The Proposal

by Katie Ashley

  The Proposal

  By Katie Ashley

  Copyright © 2013 Katie Ashley

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Dedication

  For my grandmother, Big Mama—a woman of tiny stature whose courage, faith, and conviction of character earned her status as big. May you always live on not just through the thousands of wonderful memories I possess, but through every woman I write who is strong and deals with the hand life dealt her with courage not complaint, who has an immense love of family and a strong faith, and who is smart, sassy, and sometimes just a little naughty.

  Preface

  Aidan tried to still the rapid beating of his heart as he raced up the front walkway. Stumbling on the porch steps, he lurched towards the front door. He banged both of his fists against the wood as hard as he could. “Please! Please open up! I have to talk to you!” he shouted. His hand slid down the jamb to the doorbell. His finger punched it relentlessly like a SOS call in Morse Code.

  Finally, his desperate ministrations were rewarded by the front door swinging open. At the sight of her tear stained face, his soul twisted in agony. “Please…please just let me talk to you!”

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing left to say, Aidan. We’ve been down this road too many times. I’ve come to the conclusion that your actions will always speak louder than your words.”

  “No, last night is not what I want. It’s just I was scared with the baby and everything that’s happened between us in the last few weeks.”

  When she tried sweeping past him out the door, he pushed himself in front of her like a shield. “Aidan, move. I have to get to work. Nothing you have to say is going to change the way I feel right now.”

  “Can’t you call in? I love you, and I want to make this right.” He raked a shaky hand through his already disheveled hair. He was still in the wrinkled clothes he had worn the day before. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten—he had spent the night consumed with how to get her back. “No matter what you think, I do love you…and I do want the baby.”

  She raised her head to glare at him. Aidan took a step back at the unadulterated rage that burned in her eyes. “Don’t you dare say that! I know how you really feel about me being pregnant—the burden it is on your life. If anything, it’s the reason you were fucking that girl! Because when you’re scared, you always manage to screw up!”

  Shoving him out of the way, she stomped down the porch steps. He followed close on her heels. “Okay, you’re right. It was a burden—maybe it still is. But I realize now I was just being stupid. I love you, and I do want to marry you and raise our child.”

  She skidded to a stop. Her shoulders sagged before she slowly turned around. “Right now you think that’s what you want. But I know you too well. Before we get married or before the baby is born, you’ll get scared and cheat again.” She shook her head sadly. “I was stupid to think me being pregnant would change you. That somehow it would make you commit. But you can’t even be faithful for your baby.”

  Aidan reached out for her, but she spun away and ran down the sidewalk. When he finally caught up to her, she had locked herself in the car.

  He banged his fist against the window. “Please. Please don’t do this!”

  She threw the car in reverse and squealed out of the driveway. The engine roared as she sped down the street. Aidan closed his eyes in defeat. He staggered back, trying desperately to stop himself from hyperventilating.

  Then the sound of screeching tires and busting glass caused Aidan’s heart to shudder to a stop. He sprinted to the edge of the driveway. His entire world slowed to a crawl at the sight of the mangled heap of twisted metal in the distance.

  “AMY!” he screamed.

  Chapter One

  Aidan jolted out of his nightmare to find himself facedown on the kitchen table. Sweat trickled down his face. He raised a trembling hand to swipe it away. That was when he realized it was tears, not sweat, soaking his cheeks. He hadn’t had a nightmare about Amy’s accident in years. It only took a second for him to remember what had brought it on.

  Emma.

  Everything he thought he had felt for Amy was magnified a million times with Emma. He had only thought he knew what love was. Without even trying, she had managed to illicit feelings in him he never could have imagined. And now she was gone.

  A defeated cry of agony slipped from his lips.

  “I see we’re back to the nightmares, huh?”

  Aidan jumped before jerking his gaze over his shoulder. “Hello to you too, Pop. How’d you get in?”

  Patrick gave him a tight smile. “I have a key, son.”

  When he whirled around in his chair, Aidan’s head spun, and he had to grip the table to steady himself. “Yeah, well, whatever happened to knocking?”

  “I did, but you never came to the door. Now I can see why.”

  Aidan stared up at the blurry double images of his father’s frowning face. One look of absolute and total disgust would have been enough, but damned if in his drunken state, there had to be two.

  Patrick leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Son, I do believe you’re shit-faced!”

  After snorting contemptuously, Aidan’s face smacked hard onto the table. His chest rose and fell in laughter at the fact his father had actually said the word shit-faced. Of course his level of inebriation also made it funnier.

  When he finally composed himself, he exclaimed, “Actually, Pop, I was shit-faced five beers and three shots of Patron ago. I think it’s safe to say I’m fucking plastered.”

  “So is this where we are again?” Patrick huffed.

  Raising his head, Aidan furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

  Patrick’s face clouded over in anger. “You know exactly what I mean. You’re starting the same damn patterns as you did nine years ago, right down to the drinking like a lush.”

  “I called you because I wanted your help, not a lecture. So if you came over here to yell at me then you can just fuck off!”

  The next thing Aidan knew Patrick had yanked him up by his hair and was glaring down at him. “Don’t you ever speak that way to me again! I’m still your father, and you will show me respect. You got that?”

  “Just leave me alone!” Aidan blared, trying to pull himself away.

  Patrick tightened his grip on Aidan’s hair, causing him to wince in pain. “All right. That’s it. I’m going to treat you just like I would a prick of a recruit in The Corp who had screwed up!”

  Before Aidan could protest, Patrick dragged him out of the kitchen chair. It clattered noisily to the floor. “Didn’t know you still had it in you, old man. You’re pretty agile for a seventy-two year old,” Aidan mused.

  “You better shut up if you know what’s good for you!” Patrick snarled before shoving Aidan towards the hallway. He might’ve passed out again if Patrick hadn’t kept a firm hold on the scruff of his neck along with his belt buckle.

  When they got into the master bedroom, Patrick pushed him in the bathroom. Aidan whirled around to catch Patrick locking the door. Dread washed over him. Nervously he staggered back as Patrick stalked over to him. “Shit, Pop, you aren’t gonna beat my ass again like the time in high school when you discovered that pot stash under my bed, are you?”

  Ignoring him, Patrick went to the shower. After flipping on the water, he grabbed Aidan’s arm and jerked him into the stall. Ice cold water rained down on h
im. Even through his clothes, each droplet felt like a jagged knife piercing his skin. He tried to get out, but Patrick slammed the shower door shut. “You’re going to stay in there until you can sober up and discuss what happened like a man!”

  Aidan thrashed against the door, but Patrick held firm. “I’m too old for this bullshit, son. I may not be around in nine years when you try to pull another stunt like this again. At least let me die in peace knowing that you’ve got a wife and child to love!”

  Patrick’s words froze Aidan more than the cold water pelting him. Just the thought of how he had hurt Emma sent pangs of regret reverberating through him. Instead of protesting any further, he turned and stood under the shower nozzle, letting the icy water sting him like the lashes of the whip. Hanging his head, he wished it was a whip. He deserved to be beaten for everything he had said and done in the last few weeks to Emma and in turn his son. Physical punishment would be a welcome relief to release the emotional torment within him.

  “You manning up now?” Patrick asked.

  “Yes sir,” Aidan murmured under the stream of water.

  “Good. I’ll go put on a pot of coffee. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready to talk.”

  Biting his lip, Aidan couldn’t stop the tears filling his eyes from spilling over his cheeks. He wanted more than anything for his father to somehow find a way to help him get Emma back. “Thanks, Pop,” he said, his voice wavering with emotion.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Aidan forced himself to stay under the water until his cloudy senses became clearer. When he could walk without staggering, he got out of the shower. His teeth chattered as he tore off his soaked clothes. After toweling off at record speed, he padded into the bedroom and threw on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt.

  When he got to the kitchen, Patrick sat at the table. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Sorry I had to go all Marines on you.”

  Aidan shook his head. “I deserved it. Frankly, you should’ve kicked my ass.”

  “Becoming a masochist, are we?”

  Shrugging, Aidan poured himself a cup of coffee. “I deserve nothing less. I hurt the ones I care about the most.”

  Patrick sighed. “I don’t know about that. There’s a lot of goodness in you, Aidan. I wish you could see that.”

  “Must not be much goodness in me if I keep fucking up.”

  “Speaking of that…” Patrick eased back in his chair, resting his arm along the top rung. “Before I offer to help, I have to know one thing.”

  Aidan arched his brows and took a tentative sip of coffee. The scorching liquid seared his tongue. “What is it?” he croaked.

  “Do you honestly want Emma back because you love her, or is it because you feel guilty?”

  “This isn’t like what happened with Amy,” Aidan protested.

  “It’s just a simple question, son. Do you want to spend the rest of your life with Emma and your son or not? I mean, most men who are truly in love don’t go and try to sleep with other women.”

  Hot, bitter tears stung Aidan’s eyes. “I do love her, Pop. That’s the God’s honest truth.” He ground the tears out of his eyes with his fists. Sinking down in a chair across from Patrick, he related all the details of the day on the dock. “Even though I couldn’t say it to her then or even tonight when she wanted me to, I do love Emma.”

  “So the year you tried to get Amy back that was all about—”

  Aidan closed his eyes in pain. “Guilt, not love. She managed to kill the love I had for her by deceiving me. But because of the baby, I was going to stand by her.”

  “Does Emma know any of this?”

  Snapping open his eyelids, Aidan replied, “I only told her about the cheating. I didn’t think she could handle the rest.”

  “I think you need to tell her.”

  Aidan grimaced. “I will. If she ever speaks to me again.”

  “I have a feeling she’ll come around.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s because of your damn Irish intuition,” Aidan said, quirking his eyebrows.

  “No, it’s because Becky got a hold of her leaving here tonight.”

  Groaning, Aidan rubbed his hands over his face. “Great. I’m sure they’ll be leading a charge over here at any moment to roast my manhood over an open flame!”

  Patrick chuckled. “Don’t sell your sister short. She and the rest of the girls may want to castrate you for your actions, but they do love you and want to see you happy.” He leaned forward and patted Aidan’s hand. “And they know how you’ve screwed up in the past and sabotaged your own happiness.”

  Aidan’s nostrils flared in anger. “They don’t know the whole story, Pop. They don’t know what Amy did!”

  “I know that. It’s a secret that stayed firmly between you, Amy, and myself.”

  Clenching his fists, Aidan said, “Don’t you know how many times I wanted to scream at Mom when she was singing Amy’s praises, throwing it in my face about how she was married and happy? If she had only known it was Amy who fucked me up in the head for any other woman.”

  “That was your choice not to tell her, son. I didn’t like keeping it from her. Your mother and I had so few secrets, but I kept yours.”

  Aidan softened his furious expression. “I appreciated it, Pop.”

  Patrick smiled. “You’re welcome.” He got up and poured out the remainder of his coffee in the sink. “So, you’re going to talk to Emma and tell her the truth about Amy?”

  “Yeah. Just as soon as she’ll speak to me.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” Patrick glanced at his watch. “Well, I guess I better be hitting the road.”

  Aidan’s chest clenched at the prospect of being alone. “It’s awfully late for you to be out driving. Maybe you should stay here for the night.”

  He met his father’s gaze. With his eyes, Aidan tried saying what he was too embarrassed to admit: He didn’t want to be alone.

  Patrick gave a brief nod of his head. “I guess you’re right. You don’t mind putting your old man up for the night?”

  Aidan gave a half smile. “I’d be happy to.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Three Weeks Later

  “N, Thirteen,” the Bingo announcer’s voice droned.

  “What did he say, dear?” Mrs. Petersen asked Emma, glancing down at her card.

  Knowing that Mrs. Peterson was practically stone deaf, even with her hearing aids, Emma drew in a deep breath and shouted, “N, THIRTEEN!”

  Mrs. Petersen smiled and bobbed her gray head.

  When Patrick chuckled beside her, Emma arched her eyebrows. “What?”

  “Come on, Emma, you’re a beautiful, vibrant young woman. What in the hell are you doing here at the VFW with me and a bunch of other old farts?”

  She giggled. “Are you kidding? How could I miss Saturday Bingo? What about all the fabulous prizes I could win? That bulk sized box of Depends is calling my name.” When his chest vibrated with amusement, she wagged a finger at him. “Hey, you shouldn’t laugh. You’ve had a pregnant wife and daughters. You know lack of bladder control is serious business.”

  His eyes widened. “Such a little sass pot, aren’t you? What a mouth you’ve got for such a supposedly sweet girl.”

  Emma’s heart stilled as she heard Aidan’s deep voice echo in her ears, “That mouth of yours is trouble.” A raging ache burned through her chest, and she fought to catch her breath. Trying to push the painful memories away, she shook her head. “Well, you know the real reason I’m here is because you’ve been having dizzy spells and shouldn’t drive.”

  He scowled. “Becky took both sets of my car keys before she and Liz blew town!”

  “It’s Fall Break for their kids, and they’re only going to be in Disney World for four days. It’s not their fault they were worried enough about you to take your keys. It’s your own fault for allowing that damn Fitzgerald stubbornness to keep you from going to the doctor.”

  “I have an appointment next
week.” When Emma raised her eyebrows skeptically, Patrick swiped his finger over his heart and swore, “Scout’s Honor.”

  “If you say so. I should insist on taking you myself to ensure you get there.”

  Patrick groaned. “Great. Now I have another worrywart daughter on my ass all the time.”

  Emma’s heart warmed at the notion of being considered as his daughter. Regardless of how she felt about Aidan, she could never, ever distance herself from Patrick and his love.

  After a woman with a blue bouffant clapped her hands manically and shouted, “Bingo!” Patrick leaned forward in his chair, a serious expression washing over his face. “So are we not going to talk about the white elephant in the room?”

  Emma cut her eyes over to him and grinned. “You mean the fact that one of the prizes is an enema bag?”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Patrick huffed, “That is not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

  She ducked her head, staring down at her Bingo card like it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen. “I’d rather not,” she whispered.

  “Look, Em, I’m sure you’re already experiencing the intense love a parent can have for their child. Aidan is my son, and I love him with all my heart.” When she jerked her head up to glare at him, he held up both his hands in surrender. “But that doesn’t mean I condone what he did to you. Trust me, I wanted to inflict bodily harm on him.” An amused glint twinkled in his dark eyes. “Well, I sort of did.”

  Emma gasped. “What did you do?”

  He chuckled. “Trust me, it was nothing that he didn’t deserve, or that my seventy-two year old ass could actually dish out!”

  “You’re terrible!” Emma replied, but she couldn’t help giggling.

  Patrick took his hand in hers. “I just want you to know I’m Switzerland in all this, okay? I love you and my grandchild, just like I do Aidan.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” She squeezed his hand. “And I hope you know I would never ask you to take sides or try to keep you away from the baby because of what happened with Aidan.”