The Bloom Girls
Page 13
She rolled her eyes dramatically, hoping the exaggerated expression covered the tiny spark lighting inside, the one that said maybe this time he was for real.
Chapter Fourteen
Gabi finished topping off everyone’s wineglasses before taking a seat next to her fiancé. This was it—everyone on both sides of their family around one table. Things could only get better after Gabi’s homecoming and the Harris brunch, right?
“Well,” Gigi said, raising her glass. “How about a toast to the happy couple?” She glanced at Ethan before her gaze volleyed to Gabi. “May you have much health and happiness…And let’s see if the boy can put a ring on it before we book a venue.” She followed the words with a theatrical sprinkle of laughter, and in that moment Gabi knew they weren’t leaving this dinner completely unscathed.
Et tu, Gigi?
Ruth Harris, Ethan’s mom, raised her own glass. “And before we book our rabbi.”
And because Grandma Ev couldn’t be the odd woman out, she chimed in, “Or our rabbi. This is all still up for discussion, of course.”
Glasses clinked. Drinks were drunk. And then the table erupted into a cacophony of two generations of various practices of Judaism spouting phrases like, “If the bride’s family is paying, shouldn’t they get to choose the rabbi?” Grandma Ev, of course.
“But if the bride’s maternal grandmother doesn’t actually belong to a synagogue, shouldn’t the paternal grandmother get her say? I have a friend who is a doula, a meditation teacher, and an ordained rabbi who can officiate a wedding in total silence if you want—and help deliver a baby in one fell swoop!”
Gabi caught her parents giving each other a worried look, and she guessed they were just as surprised at Gigi as Gabi was.
Gabi stared at her mom, who was staring right back. Alissa nodded over Gabi’s shoulder and mouthed, Run!
“Come on,” Gabi said, grabbing Ethan’s hand from her knee and an unfinished bottle of wine from the table, then sliding her chair back.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“We’re escaping,” she said with a grin, and that was all it took for him to follow her out of the gazebo as her uncle and the twins were finally headed back to the table for cake.
She led him across the expansive yard and around to the front, to the old but still-sturdy maple tree and the ladder that led to Gabi’s childhood tree house.
She dropped Ethan’s hand and began the climb—bottle of wine still in hand—up the wooden ladder attached to the trunk.
“Wait,” he called, and she turned to look over her shoulder with a grin.
“Come on!” she called back. “Before my little cousins chase after us!”
“So this thing is stable?” he asked, eyeing the ladder.
“Yes!” she promised. “Miriam and I came up here just a few months ago. If it could hold us then, it’ll hold us now.”
“Wait!” Ethan called as she was halfway up the ladder. “Has anyone been up here since then? I mean, how do we know it’s still stable? Time changes things, Bloom. Bloom?”
She continued until she was through the opening on top, pausing briefly at Ethan’s question about stability and time. She knew he meant the tree house, but the words made the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She shook away the odd feeling and climbed out onto the small balcony.
Ethan was still on the ground below.
Then it hit her.
“Are you—afraid of heights?” she asked, not having considered the possibility.
“No…” He paused. “I’m just not a fan of the prospect of falling from distances greater than here.” He indicated a spot right above his torso.
Gabi laughed. “You have no problem driving recklessly through the streets of Ireland on a moped and crashing, but a tree house?” She set the bottle of wine down and then held on to the balcony railing, jumping up and down a few times. “See?”
He motioned for her to stop like he was a police officer directing traffic. “Shit, Gabi.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “I thought you wanted me to join you.”
She winced. “Sorry! I promise I’ll behave, and I promise it’s safe. Please come up?”
He blew out a breath and shook his head, then made his way up the ladder, through the entrance and straight into the tree house, avoiding the balcony altogether.
The inside was simple and spare, the wood painted white on the floor and sage green on the walls, and two teal beanbag chairs on the ground.
“Gigi totally burned some sage in here to clear out negative energy,” Gabi said with a laugh as she followed Ethan inside, wine in hand.
“Is that what I smell?” Ethan asked.
He lowered himself gingerly into one of the chairs while Gabi collapsed into the other. His flinch was microscopic yet noticeable.
“Sorry,” she said again. “This is a real thing for you, huh? But you flew all the way to Europe!”
He shrugged, then reached for the bottle in her hand, which she relinquished willingly. “I sit on the aisle,” he said. “Out of sight, out of mind. It also helps that they serve alcohol on airplanes.” He made a gesture of cheers with the bottle, then took a long, healthy swig. “Nora drove us up from the city, so I’m not afraid to polish this off,” he added.
But Gabi swiped it back from him before he could.
“You know things could go full Montague and Capulet down there all based on rabbi choice, right? And Gigi wasn’t kidding about her doula friend. If anyone’s going to polish off this lovely Chardonnay, it’s going to be me.”
Ethan patted the spot next to him on his oversized chair. “Well then get over here, Juliet. Unless you think the tree house can’t handle all our weight concentrated into one spot.”
She grinned and crawled over to his chair, cradling the wine against her chest, until she was nestled next to him, the floor still steady beneath them.
She kissed him on the cheek. “See? Solid as can be. Also, you know Romeo and Juliet both die in the end, right?”
He tilted his forehead against hers. “You’re the one who initiated the metaphor. If you swear we’re not going to go plummeting to the ground at any moment, I think we might be able to end our story a little differently.”
Gabi sighed. “I know part of what’s going on down there has to do with how much they all love us, but I also know it’s a little, teensy bit about control.” She took another sip. “But it’s our wedding, right?” Then she passed the bottle to him.
He drank as well, following suit. “Then it’s ultimately our decision, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but we have our investors to think about. It doesn’t look like anyone wants to be a silent partner.”
He laughed. “What if we figure out cost-friendly options, and the ones that we can cover get to be our decision alone? They can duke it out for the others.”
“I like where this is going,” Gabi said.
“Your grandmother—or Gigi—wasn’t too off base. Technically, we don’t even have to have a rabbi. I did a little research, and you can still have a Jewish wedding even if a rabbi doesn’t officiate.”
“Can we take a silent, meditative, baby-birthing wedding off the table, though?”
“If we have to,” Ethan said with a dramatic sigh.
Gabi snuggled even closer to him so they were hip-to-hip, her knee crossing over his. She secured the bottle of wine between them.
“You’ve really been researching?” she asked. “You actually want to help plan this thing?”
Down below it might be turning into the War of the Roses, but up here it felt like everything was in full, glorious bloom.
“Gabs,” he said. “You don’t ever have to doubt me. Or us. I am in this.”
She pressed her lips to his, nodding as she did.
He was right. She had to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. She and Ethan weren’t her parents. They were them. And their story could end any way they wanted it to. In fact, it didn’t have to end at all.
He cupped her cheek in his palm and brushed his thumb across her skin. “There will never be an after when it comes to us,” he said softly. “Just an us. Always.”
Gabi’s stomach dropped as he kissed her, and she felt like the tree-house floor had simply disappeared. But as Ethan held her, she knew she wasn’t falling but that if she was, he’d be there to catch her.
“Just an us,” she agreed. This was proof that she wasn’t her parents. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes they did, and she certainly didn’t need to travel farther than—well—this tree house to know that Ethan was right for her. She could ignore the tiny voice at the back of her mind, the one that whispered for her to consider whether or not she truly knew what she wanted out of life. She wanted Ethan. That was all she needed to know. “None of the other stuff matters. You’re my adventure now.” She kissed her fiancé again.
“What other stuff?” Ethan asked, and Gabi realized he hadn’t been in on the conversation in her head.
“Nothing,” she assured him. “But now that I have you alone up here, there’s something we need to do.”
He raised his brows. “What did you have in mind?”
She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow, grabbing another swig from the bottle.
“It’s time to get it all out there,” she said. “All the surprises, all the stuff we don’t know about each other. Like this fear-of-heights thing.”
“You mean other than hidden injuries and vows not to get married?”
She backhanded him on the shoulder. “I forgave you for your little omission. And had I known you were in my future, I’d have amended my stance on marriage much earlier.”
“Apology accepted,” he said.
Gabi kissed him on the cheek. “So my phobia is spiders.” She glanced around the tree house, trying to spot any uninvited eight-legged guests.
“Gabi Bloom, I promise to love you and cherish you and kill all the spiders for you,” he said.
This made her laugh. “Only if I’m in imminent danger,” she amended. “Otherwise maybe you can just set them outside.”
“Deal,” he said.
“Okay…favorite season?” she asked. “On the count of three. One, two…”
And after three, they both said autumn.
They went on like this until the Chardonnay was gone and for a while after until a knock sounded on the trapdoor.
“Come in!” Gabi called, then turned to Ethan and whisper-shouted, “They found us!”
They both laughed as Gabi’s dad poked his head through the door, one hand covering his eyes and the other sliding a dessert plate across the floor, on it one slice of her mom’s chocolate ganache cake for the two of them to share.
“Sorry to interrupt whatever you two might be doing.” He groaned at his own words. “But the twins already ate one unclaimed piece, and I didn’t want them to get the other.”
Gabi groaned. “We’re fully clothed, Dad. A little tipsy but that’s about it. Do you really think I’d tell you to come in otherwise? Give me a little credit.”
He uncovered his eyes and sighed with relief. “Sorry. I’m just—I’m trying to accept this whole you-being-an-adult thing, but I probably would have lost my shit and fallen off this ladder if the situation was otherwise, so thanks for—you know…” He rolled his eyes at himself, and Gabi had to admit it was sweet to see him so flustered about her, to see him being such a dad. “Anyway,” he added. “It’s safe if you want to come down. The rabbi decision is still under negotiation, and Gigi is still pushing for the doula, but it all feels a little less bloodthirsty now. People are starting to ask about you two, but I’ll do my best to distract them for a little while longer if you want to eat your cake first.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Gabi said. “You get extra points for saving us cake.”
He winked at her then narrowed his eyes at Ethan. “Remember that,” he said. “Always save her the last piece of cake.”
“Will do, Mr. Bloom,” Ethan said.
Gabi’s dad opened his mouth like he was going to respond but then closed it and lowered himself down the ladder, pulling the trapdoor shut behind him.
“He’s still not too happy about my existence,” Ethan said.
“He’ll come around,” Gabi assured him. “Consider that cake tip encouragement. He doesn’t share that kind of valuable information with just anyone. The more he gets to know you, the more he’ll realize that you’re the real deal. That we are.”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Speaking of real deal,” he said once they were alone again. “I should have done this earlier, but I didn’t want an audience. I have a confession.”
“Okay,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice.
“Since I already knew your favorite color was blue…” He slid his hand into his pocket and from it produced a small white box. “I know coming home has been strange and we’re still figuring this all out in the real world, but you’re my ride or die, Bloom. Just—not on a moped.”
They both sat up straight, and she took the box from him, holding her breath as she flipped it open with her thumb.
A simple white gold band with a round, solitaire sapphire peeked up at her.
“Still wanna do this thing?” he asked, but he had his answer already in the tears filling her eyes and the smile spreading across her face.
This must have cost him his whole summer’s salary—minus what he’d already spent meeting up with her in various locales across Europe whenever he had a couple of days off.
She wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t have, that they could save the money and put it toward the wedding, that she didn’t need a ring.
But as he slid it onto her finger, her need to protest disappeared.
“It’s perfect,” she said.
“So that’s a yes?”
She laughed. “Yes.”
And she kissed him and fed him cake and then kissed him some more, only keeping one eye open to stare at the beautiful reminder that even if she hadn’t planned on him, he was her plan moving forward.
“Hey,” she said, her knee sliding up his leg. “Now that we know my dad won’t be coming back and will hopefully be keeping everyone else at bay while we—um—enjoy our cake, wanna be a part of the twenty-foot-high club?”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “So you’re insinuating that I brought a condom to the meeting-of-the-in-laws dinner?”
Gabi shrugged. “If you’re saying you don’t have one then I guess I’ll take a rain check.”
She swiped her finger across the remnants of the raspberry sauce on the cake plate and then straightened as if to get up and leave, but Ethan grabbed her wrist.
“I brought a condom to the meeting-of-the-in-laws dinner,” he said. “Not that I was expecting this—us—up here. But I wasn’t sure where we’d end up after this, and what can I say? I like to be prepared.”
“Such a Boy Scout,” she teased.
“And here I thought that was you with a camera around your neck and an extra battery always in your bag.”
Gabi gasped. “I left my camera in the house! And you just officially proposed. And—”
“Gabs,” he said softly and kissed her. “Maybe that’s okay sometimes, to be in front of the lens instead of behind it.” His lips brushed against hers again, teeth nipping at her bottom lip until she grinned. “Maybe we should let moments like this be just for us.”
She nodded against him. “Moments like engagements and entering the
twenty-foot-high club?”
He nodded and laughed, a deep rasp that made her warm and tingly all over.
“Okay,” she added. “But you know I’m going straight for the camera as soon as we’re done. And we should probably make this quick. Just in case…”
Another laugh. “Gabi?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop talking, please.”
He grabbed the back of her thigh and hooked her leg over his—just in time for another knock to sound on the trapdoor, and for said door to immediately open without the knocker waiting for an invitation to come in.
“Oh my God!” Matthew Bloom yelled before letting the door slam shut—on the tips of his fingers. “Shit!” Gabi heard him hiss as he yanked his hand free.
Ethan froze, and Gabi’s cheeks burned with mortification. It wasn’t as if they’d even gotten close to needing a condom, but just the fact that they were on their way and that her dad’s surprise second entrance could have happened at an even-less-opportune time…Gabi shuddered.
“Dad?” she called out. “Are you—okay?”
The lack of a thud twenty feet below them was hopefully a good sign.
“I don’t think anything is broken, if that’s what you mean.”
Gabi let out a relieved laugh. “Did you—need something? I thought you were able to call off the dogs for a little while longer.”
“Gigi’s busting out her Neruda anthology and wanted to read a poem or two in honor of the lucky couple. I can tell her you two are busy—after I gouge out my eyes.”
Gabi groaned and crawled off her fiancé, making her way to the trapdoor. She cracked it open enough to give her father a good side eye.
“We weren’t doing anything other than kissing, Dad.”
“Yet.”
“Fine,” she said. “Yet.”
He held on to the ladder with his right hand and held his left against his chest.
He was hurt.
Her libido had indirectly injured her father.
Hat trick complete. “Achievement unlocked,” she said under her breath. “Let me see your hand.”
“I’m fine,” he said, jutting out his chin like a petulant child.