He gestured toward the backyard. “You saw her. A day or two after I…proposed…she started going downhill quickly.” He ran a hand through his blond hair. “I really thought she was going to—” He cut himself off, blinking, his jaw working to hide a trembling lip. “I told her we were engaged, so she could die knowing I would be okay. I honestly thought that was it. I didn’t think she’d get better.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, calming myself. My own jaw was starting to hurt from all the tension of the past few days. “I understand why you told her, Rob; I do.” I wasn’t mad about that—not really. He was desperate, and I just happened to get wrapped up in it. He only thought he was jumping the gun. “But what happens now? We’re not engaged.”
“Yet.” His face lit up hopefully.
I blew out a long, shaky breath. “I have to tell you something.”
His brow furrowed. I took my time searching for the words, pacing along the front sidewalk until I came and stopped right in front of him.
I waited a few beats. “Darius proposed to me.”
He exhaled. “Shit.” Then he frowned. “And what was your response?”
“I told him I’d think about it, but Rob…” I paused. “I’m going to turn him down.”
He grinned, his shoulders relaxing with relief. “Good.”
I held up a hand. “But that’s not all.”
“It’s not?”
“There’s…someone else…” Me of two years ago—heck, me of two months ago—would not recognize the soap opera my life had become.
He shook his head in disbelief. “Someone else you texted.”
“No. Someone I met more recently and who I have very real feelings for.”
His lips parted for a moment in surprise, but he quickly morphed that into a tight smile. “Okay.”
“I slept with him.”
“You slept with this guy you have feelings for.” His voice came out measured and calm. Too calm.
“Yes,” I said, “and we want to continue seeing each other. We’re serious about giving this thing between us a real shot. I’m so sorry, Rob. I had no idea this would happen.” I chuckled. “I mean, I’d barely had a second date in years.”
Rob set his jaw, and now it was his turn to pace. I waited until he returned to me. “That’s…fine,” he said finally, his shoulders squared and strong.
“What do you mean, ‘that’s fine’?”
He stood straight, chin up. “I mean, you and I are an unconventional couple.”
I resisted the urge to remind him that we weren’t even actually a couple.
He kept looking off to the side, and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “These are the kinds of things that we’ll have to work out between us before we’re married.”
“You do know we’re not actually engaged,” I muttered.
His eyes snapped to me, but he caught himself quickly and lowered the temperature of his reaction. A wan smile on his face, he said, “Who’s this guy? This third guy?”
“He’s”—I shook my head, shrugging—“he’s a musician.”
Rob laughed. “A musician.”
“He’s wonderful, really,” I told him. “So smart and kind and funny—”
“You know.” Rob spoke in a slow, even voice. “A musician isn’t going to give you what you want.”
“And what’s that?” I folded my arms. I’d barely spent time with Rob since high school, and now he was an expert on what I wanted? All he thought he knew about me he got from one drunken text and two dates.
“You want stability, companionship, and commitment.” He waved his hand. “Isn’t that why we’re here right now?”
“Yes, and I think Dax—I think he will be able to give me those things.” At least I hoped he would, or that they’d magically no longer matter to me someday. Either way, we were going to try to make this work. I doubled down. “I’m sure he will.”
“Okay, Annie,” Rob said. “Maybe it will work out; maybe it won’t. But I’ve been married before, and I’m older than you.”
“One year,” I reminded him, holding up an index finger. “One.”
“My prediction is that eventually you’ll find yourself alone again and you’ll wish you’d picked stability over passion.”
“I won’t, but thanks.” This conversation took me right back to my childhood when Rob and I would play board games together and he always knew the rules better than anyone. You couldn’t tell Rob Casey anything he didn’t already know. He had that one year on me, and he still wouldn’t let me forget it. “Tell our moms I’m sorry but I had a medical emergency.” I couldn’t go back in the yard and listen to the wedding plans, but I wouldn’t bust up Regina’s healthy glow, either.
“Annie.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be an ass. I’m very clumsily trying to tell you that I’ll be here for you, if and when you come to the decision that you still want stability.”
“Fine,” I said. “Thanks.” I couldn’t wait to get back home to Dax, where I wouldn’t have to think about these other two guys anymore.
Ugh, but I still had to get through one more of these conversations. That was the problem with juggling two guys—double the breakups.
“One thing.” Rob reached into his jeans pocket and grabbed something. “Here. Take this. In case your mom or my mom or whoever asks to see it.” He placed his engagement ring in my palm. “Just until she…”
I stared at it for a moment, like it was a toad or a hideous spider or something. Still, I’d stick to my promise. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize Mrs. Casey’s health and well-being. I clamped my hand around the ring and shoved it down into the bottom of my purse. “Okay. Sure. Goodbye, Rob.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
N’THINK
I finally got a hold of Darius late Saturday afternoon, and he gave me more of the same rigamarole: Dax and I would never last; I was welcome to call him when my little flight of fancy finally ended; and only he, Darius, could give me the commitment I craved.
“Noted,” I told him. “When can we meet up so I can give you the ring back?”
“I’m swamped at the moment,” he told me, “so hold on to it for now. Just in case.”
“There is no ‘just in case,’” I told him. “I will give you the ring back the next time I see you.”
I pressed the “end call” button hard, wishing landlines were still a thing. Hanging up on someone used to be much more satisfying.
Feeling lighter and a bit relieved, I went downstairs to the basement, where Dax and Joanne were cuddled up on the couch. He glanced up when I came down. “Done?” he asked.
“Done.” I flopped onto a chair across from him. “I don’t like admitting anyone else was right—”
He raised an eyebrow.
“But…maybe you were right. Trying to force relationships with two guys I barely know, and…it turns out…maybe I don’t even really like, might not have been my best idea ever.”
“Ouch to them,” he said.
“No.” I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “I like them. They’re nice. It’s just…they’re not for me. Let other people have them.”
“Who is for you, then?” He shot me a crooked smile.
I grinned back. “Well, that’s a really good question. I like to think I’ve learned a lot about myself these past several weeks.” I scrunched up my face. “I think I’m looking for someone who knows a lot of useless trivia.”
“Check.” He rose from the couch.
“Maybe…plays an instrument?”
“Check.” He took a step toward me, eyes darkening with each moment.
My insides warmed. “Went to…Yale?”
“Yup.” His toes touched mine.
I sucked my lower lip under my top teeth and gazed up at him. “I want
someone who’s…over thirty-five.”
“No you fucking don’t.” He grabbed my hand and helped me up from the couch, pulling me toward him into a tight, warm embrace.
We spent the rest of the afternoon, until Dax had to go into work, cuddling in his bed, watching rom-coms and not watching rom-coms. When he finally left me alone, my arm draped around Joanne, I realized I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from me. I was—dare I say it?—happy.
I kissed the dog on top of her head. Maybe this could actually work.
…
On Tuesday night, I showed up for trivia at almost the last minute. “Sorry,” I said after kissing Dax hello. “Long day at work.”
He pushed an old-fashioned toward me, and I beamed in thanks. He could be so thoughtful. I sank into my chair, suddenly relaxing for the first time all day.
“Tell me all about it,” he said.
I shook my head and sipped my drink. “Oh, nothing huge, just some bug going around—fevers, chills, cough. Almost like a summer flu. Everyone thinks they have it.”
“Do they?”
“Nope.”
He laughed. This was lovely. Being with Dax, competing in this tournament with him, snuggling with him in bed watching movies, having him—and one of his old-fashioneds—to come home to at night after a long day. I couldn’t imagine doing all those things with either Rob or Darius. If I’d stuck with one of them, I’d probably be watching sports right now, being forced to make small talk with Ellen Miller, or I’d be getting dressed up for a fancy night out when all I wanted to do was relax and unwind after a hellish workday.
Not that those things were bad. They just weren’t for me. I knew that now.
“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” he said, “but I had a great one.”
“I can’t wait to hear about it,” I said.
But then Ronald got the trivia started—famous Nickelodeon actors, LOL—and we had to put our conversation on hold for a moment. Dax positively crushed the round.
I stirred my drink after he returned from submitting our answer sheet. “I never considered that one of the perks of dating a twenty-seven-year-old might be him knowing way too much about the cast of iCarly.” I raised my eyebrows. “Now I know what got you into Yale.”
He chuckled.
“Tell me about your amazing day.”
He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table. “Well, the thing is paying off.” After the Man on Main Street segment aired, we started calling it “the thing” to avoid talking about the Darius of it all. “This weekend, Saturday night, five short little days from now, Farouche is invited to open for…” He drummed his hands on the table. “Monica Feathers.”
My stomach dropped. “Wow, I’ve actually heard of her.”
“Now that”—he sipped his beer and waggled his eyebrows—“is truly amazing.”
I forced a smile. “I haven’t listened to her music, but I hear she’s good.” She was the kind of woman who brought a legitimate, goofy smile to Darius Carver’s face. And now my cute, young boyfriend was going to be working in her presence. Cool. Cool cool cool. So very cool.
Stop it, brain. We’re having a lovely night. Stop imagining it all imploding.
“Monica’s awesome,” he said. “The band met with her earlier today, and I think we really jibed. She’s a total pro and takes her work seriously, which always impresses me.”
“Good.” I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “I’m so happy for you.” And I was. Or, at least, I really, really wanted to be. Maybe I could convince myself this sinking feeling that the other shoe was about to drop was nothing more than joy and excitement.
“Round two!” Ronald announced.
I pulled the answer key toward me. “Let’s do this thing.” I held the pencil poised, ready to go. “Hopefully the next round is something I know about, like 30 Rock or the movies of Paul Thomas Anderson. I’d like to at least have a shot at impressing my young Yale-alumnus boyfriend.”
“He’s already impressed,” Dax said.
…
On Saturday afternoon, I put on my most churchy little black dress and kissed Dax goodbye. “Have fun,” he said.
“What’s more fun than a baby’s christening?” I held up the very nondescript yellow gift bag I’d picked out for Olivia. My mom, who was taking my role as godmother very seriously, had urged me to get the baby a Bible or a rosary or something else equally religious. Instead I, as her appointed spiritual guide, bought her my favorite books from when I was a kid and wrote a personal message about why I loved them on each of the inside covers. Let someone else do the Bible thing.
“You’ll be back in time to walk Joanne?” Dax’s brow furrowed.
“I’ll make sure I am.” I double checked that I had my phone. “And then I’ll head right over to the concert.” He had to be at the venue soon to prepare for the show.
“Before you go,” he said, handing me a thumb drive. “For your ride.”
I looked at the device in my hand. “What’s this?”
“Music,” he said. “My music.”
How sweet that he’d made me a mix. “How do I play this in the car?”
He shrugged. “Don’t you have one of those high-tech vehicles that can do anything? My car still has crank windows, so I don’t know how any of this works.”
“I’ll try to play it.” I kissed him again and dropped the drive into the bottomless pit that was my purse. “Thank you very much for the thoughtful gift, and good luck at the concert.”
He recoiled in horror. “You don’t say good luck.”
“I’m sorry.” I winced. “Break a leg?”
“We’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”
A little while later, Yessi met me outside the church in Schaumburg, near where she grew up.
“What are you doing out here?” I squinted into the sunlight. “Shouldn’t you be doing the whole schmoozing-with-your-relatives thing?”
“I threw Polly to the wolves for a few minutes. My mom is insisting that I put my brother in as Olivia’s godfather instead of having two godmothers.” She shook her head. “She didn’t say it this rudely, to be fair, but she said something to the effect of, ‘Olivia needs at least one male role model.’” Her lip quivered.
I pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her tight.
When she pulled away, she wiped her eyes hard. “I mean, she’s really going to hold up Miggy as the paragon of male virtue? He’s thirty, and she still does his laundry.”
I laughed. “Who’s the other godmother?” I asked. “Your sister?”
“Nope.” Yessi waved past me, and I turned around to find Kelly coming toward us, Mark next to her.
“Hey…” I said cautiously, pulling her in for a hug, which she accepted. “How’s it going? Hi, Mark.” I hugged him, too.
“Good to see you again.”
Kelly stared at the entrance to the church. “I’m sorry about our interaction at my bridal shower. I hope your patient is doing okay.”
Mark patted her supportively on the shoulder.
“Thank you, and she is,” I said, frowning a little. Chatting with Kelly used to be so easy, so fun. We used to belt out show tunes in our kitchen, and now she could barely look at me. “How’s wedding stuff going?”
“Good,” she said stiffly. “Everything’s coming along.” She glanced at her watch. “We should probably head inside.”
Kelly and Yessi walked toward the door, but Mark hung back. “Hey, Annie. Can we talk a second?”
I watched my friends disappear behind the heavy doors. “Sure.”
“Not my place,” he said, “but since Kelly appears to be in one of her stubborn moods—”
I laughed. “So you’re already well aware of those?”
“Yes.” He grinned. “You should know: Kelly’s mo
m’s eyesight has gotten much worse over the past six months or so, and the doctors think she won’t get it back.”
My stomach dropped. “Oh no. That’s awful.” That was part of the reason Kelly had to go out to Galena in the first place—because her dad needed to get to and from rehab appointments, and her mom couldn’t drive him. “She should’ve called me. I could’ve gotten her in touch with a specialist.” I pulled out my phone. “I still can. My friend from med school—”
Mark held up a hand to stop me. “I already told her to do that, and she refused. She didn’t want to bother you, especially since things have been so tense between you two lately.”
My shoulders sank. I would do anything for Kelly—she had to know that. “I don’t care about any of that. I only want to help, if I can.”
He leaned in a little closer. “I think it’s a pride thing.”
“Right.” Kelly could be the most fun and bubbly person, but she also had a bit of a temper lurking underneath. She once put a friend of ours in college on the “dead to me” list because she drunkenly kissed Kelly’s crush at a bar one night—a guy who, to be fair, had no clue Kelly actually existed. I just never thought she’d actually cut me out of her life. “I’ll try to talk to her,” I told Mark. “Thanks for keeping me in the loop. I really appreciate it.”
“When we first met,” he said, “she used to talk about you and Yessi all the time and with such admiration.” He smiled. “I hope you all can work it out.”
“Me too.”
After the ceremony, during which I held a screaming and squirming Olivia while a priest dumped water on her head, we all went over to the Cortezes’ house for a backyard reception. I stayed in the car for a few minutes to answer some questions that had come in during the baptism. I had three messages, on a Saturday. My patients were really nervous about this flu.
I checked the clock before heading back to the party. It was three thirty now. The ceremony at the church had gone long. I had to be on the road by four to get back to walk Joanne and then order a ride to the concert. On my way in, I grabbed a bottle of water and a corner piece of cake covered in fluffy white buttercream. Kelly and Mark were at one of the back tables. I joined them.
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