LoveLines

by S. Walden

  “Can you see the inclusions?” Reece asked, holding it up.

  “Look for yourself,” Kirk replied.

  Reece studied the diamond. The only thing he could see was sparkle and shine. He looked at the salesperson and shrugged.

  “Exactly,” Kirk said. “Unless you’re a gemologist, you wouldn’t be able to see them.”

  “Them?”

  “There are two. May I?” he asked, extending his hand.

  Reece dropped the diamond in his palm, and Kirk turned it over.

  “You see?” he said.

  Reece leaned in close and noticed a small black speck in the diamond. Kirk turned over the stone.

  “Now look again,” he instructed.

  Reece squinted his eyes but couldn’t see it.

  “So the underside doesn’t count?” Reece asked.

  “When it’s mounted, who will see it?”

  “Is it cheap to purchase a flawed diamond?”

  “Depends on what’s important to you. She’ll never see that speck unless you point it out. If you look at the surface of the stone, it’s bright, clear, and big. For most women, that’s all that matters,” Kirk said, glimpsing Erica for agreement.

  “You got that right,” Erica said.

  “You said two flaws,” Reece reminded the salesperson.

  Kirk turned over the stone and pointed out the second speck—a dark gray pinprick dot. Barely noticeable.

  “You and Bailey,” Erica said.

  “Huh?”

  “The two flaws. They’re you and Bailey,” Erica explained.

  “That’s cute,” Reece replied, rolling his eyes.

  “I’m being serious! This is your diamond, Reece. It’s real and flawed and gorgeous.” She snatched the diamond from Kirk and held it under Reece’s nose. “Look at this thing! It’s breathtaking.”

  “Is it?” Reece asked Kirk.

  Kirk nodded. “If that diamond didn’t have inclusions, it’d be twice the price.”

  “TWICE?”

  Kirk nodded.

  “Inclusions are good,” Erica said. “Inclusions are real.”

  Reece rubbed his jaw. “And she’d like this cut?” he asked Erica.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “And she wouldn’t want yellow gold?”

  “Does she look like a yellow gold girl to you?” Erica asked. “I mean, nothing against yellow gold, but that’s not her.”

  Reece nodded, thinking.

  “Would you like to see some settings?” Kirk asked.

  “We sure would,” Erica replied cheerfully.

  Christopher and Camden cracked up as Reece relayed the entire visit to the jeweler.

  “So basically Bailey’s best friend is proposing,” Camden said.

  “You’d think. She bossed me the entire time,” Reece replied.

  “You oughta be happy she was there. She kept you from buying an ugly ass ring,” Christopher pointed out.

  “It wasn’t ugly!” Reece argued. “Just not her style evidently.”

  “No, her style happens to have a one-carat minimum requirement,” Camden said.

  The men laughed.

  “Women,” Christopher muttered, shaking his head. “They don’t know what they put us through. I fear the day when I gotta diamond shop.”

  “A Honda Civic,” Camden said.

  “For real,” Christopher replied. “How she gonna justify wearin’ a Honda Civic on her finger?”

  “I don’t think they look at it that way,” Reece said.

  “I’m practical,” Christopher went on. “I’d save that money for a down payment on a house.”

  Camden laughed. “Man, no you wouldn’t! As soon as you find the girl you’re gonna marry, you’ll plunk down all your cash for the ring she likes. That’s one area where women have all the power.”

  “One of many areas,” Reece added.

  “How come we do anything they want?” Christopher asked as he chomped.

  “You know the answer to that,” Reece replied.

  “Tits and pussies,” Camden explained.

  Reece rolled his eyes. “You didn’t have to say it.”

  Camden grinned. “Tits. And. Pussies.”

  “Stop saying ‘pussy.’ Kids are in here,” Reece admonished.

  “So is that a Honda Civic in that box?” Christopher asked.

  “You wanna see the stone again?” Reece replied.

  Christopher smirked and finished his slice.

  “You taking her somewhere special?” Camden asked.

  Reece shook his head. “Nope. I’ve got it all planned out in the back yard.”

  “The back yard?” Camden said doubtfully.

  “You’ve seen Bailey’s back yard,” Reece said.

  “You mean y’all’s back yard,” Christopher corrected.

  Reece nodded. “I’ve been cleaning it up and repairing the walkways and everything since March. She’s been helping me plant. It’ll be ready for her birthday.”

  “I don’t get it,” Camden said.

  Reece paused, deciding how much he wanted to share.

  “Don’t make fun of me,” he began.

  “Oh, we will,” Camden said. “And then we’ll steal the idea when we’re ready to propose.”

  Reece chuckled. “Well, I’m gonna decorate the back yard. She used to have twinkle lights all over before the hurricane destroyed everything. I’m gonna string lights all around, and put candles everywhere, and surprise her with a new and improved oasis. And cook dinner for her. And get her these little cakes she loves from a bakery down the road.” He fell silent and waited.

  “I like it,” Christopher said finally.

  Reece wasn’t convinced. “She’ll get it. She’ll understand. Her back yard is really important to her.”

  Christopher and Camden grinned at one another.

  “Dude, it’s a really good plan,” Camden said. “And it’s special. Much better than going to some restaurant. She’s gonna love it.”

  Reece smiled. He felt more encouraged.

  “Just four weeks to go,” he said. “I’m itching to give it to her.”

  “I can imagine,” Camden replied. “But why’d you buy the ring so early?”

  Reece thought for a moment, and then he smiled. “She’s turned me into a planner.”

  ***

  It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. Not that he was happy Erica was sick, but that Bailey would have a legitimate reason to be away from the house all day. She offered to help Erica with the kids since Noah was away on a business trip, and it gave Reece all the time he needed to stage the back yard for optimal romance. Christopher and Camden offered to help. They argued that the job was too big for one man. As much as Reece wanted to take all the credit, he agreed with them and made plans to meet at nine the following morning.

  “All right, lover boy,” Camden said. “What’s in your bag of tricks?”

  The men sat around the kitchen table drinking coffee and eating Bojangles biscuits before the work began.

  “I have a shed full of plants,” Reece said. “I’ve been hiding them for three days.”

  Christopher burst out laughing. “How much you spend on those plants?”

  “I don’t know. Like four hundred bucks,” Reece replied.

  Now Camden laughed. “Reece, you’re an idiot.”

  “What?!”

  “How you gonna put plants in a dark shed for three days and expect them not to wither and die?” Christopher asked.

  “I’ve been checking on them, doofus,” Reece replied. “Only chance I got to buy them was three days ago. I’ve been trying to sneak stuff in this house all week without Bailey finding out! It’s really hard when she knows every square inch of this place and what’s in it! Get off my back!”

  Christopher’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. Calm down.”

  “I’m stressed out over here!” Reece went on.

  “‘Cause you put too much pressure on yourself,” Camden explained. “You don’t hav
e to ask the world’s most romantic proposal, Reece. “

  Reece snapped his head up. “Yes, I do.”

  Camden sighed. “Look, Bailey’s gonna like whatever you do. She’d like if you asked her over corn dogs at the fair. She’s chill like that.”

  Christopher nodded. “She’d like if you went surfing with her and asked her.”

  “Oh, a beach proposal,” Camden chimed in. “Yeah, that sounds right up her alley. You could—”

  “I’m not asking her over corn dogs!” Reece cried. “I’m not asking her surfing! This is what I’m doing!” He jabbed his finger on the table to make a point. “This right here! I’m planting those goddamn flowers and stringing lights, okay? That’s what I’m doing!”

  “That’s cool,” Christopher mumbled.

  “I hear ya, buddy,” Camden said.

  “She don’t want no corn dog anyway,” Christopher went on. “I don’t even think she likes corn dogs . . .”

  “Chris, shut up,” Reece said, and hopped up from the table.

  His friends, who still had half their biscuits to eat, abandoned them and followed Reece out the kitchen door. That seemed like the wise thing to do. Reece was on edge—on the very edge of the edge.

  And then the work began. Reece had one last garden to plant. He and Bailey restored the others, salvaged what they could of the old pergola and built a new one, and replaced the cracked pavers in all the walkways winding about the yard. Reece even installed a small fish pond with a waterfall near the pergola, and today’s task was turning it to magic.

  The men planted, mulched, raked, scrubbed, swept, and clipped all day long. Reece wanted vases of fresh flowers on the patio table and the tables under the pergola, and put Camden in charge of arranging the bouquets. They didn’t turn out quite as he’d hoped.

  “What is this?” Reece asked, panicked.

  “Your beautiful bouquets,” Camden replied, slipping in the last flower.

  “Camden . . .” But there was no time to fix them. And Reece wasn’t sure he would have done a better job. Why didn’t he just buy bouquets? And then he reminded himself that he wanted flowers out of Bailey’s garden—their garden.

  “Yoohoo! Reeces!” Soledad called over the fence. She never called him “Reece.” It was always “Reeces,” and he figured it was a subconscious decision based on the Reese’s candy commercials she heard on TV.

  Reece waved his neighbor over.

  “¿Qué estás haciendo?” she asked, approaching the table. “¿Y quién puso esto junto?” She waved her hand over the bouquets, scowling.

  Reece pointed to Camden who shrugged.

  “What? They look good!” he replied, offended.

  Soledad shook her head emphatically and picked up the scissors. She pointed them at Camden while she went off about something. Or, at least, it sounded like she was going off. The men hadn’t a clue her exact words, but they gathered that Camden’s job was shit and that she had plans to redo the vases. She started pulling out all the flowers and re-trimming them.

  “Whatever,” Camden mumbled. “I dunno how to do this shit. I work in sales.” And he trudged off to help Christopher hang twinkle lights.

  “I’m proposing,” Reece told Soledad.

  She smiled, not understanding.

  Reece tried again, this time sinking to his knee and taking Soledad’s hand. “I’m proposing.”

  Her face lit up. “Oh, Reeces! Usted y Bailey son perfectos juntos! Estoy tan feliz de que ha encontrado un buen hombre! Todos sus otros hombres no eran buenos, Reeces. No eran buenos.”

  He nodded. She pulled him to his feet and grabbed his face, kissing one cheek and then the other. And then she took over—shouting commands in Spanish while she finished rearranging the vases. The men did the best they could. Soledad smacked Christopher’s hand once and popped the back of Camden’s head twice, but for the most part, they were good about understanding the gist of her orders. By five o’clock the back yard was a wonderland. The gardens teemed with summer color. Candles floated about the fish pond. Even more of them dotted the walkways and crowded the tables. Reece couldn’t wait to light them all.

  “You owe us lots and lots of beer,” Camden said.

  “And food, too,” Christopher chimed in. “I mean, on account of the smacking.”

  Reece chuckled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Soledad planned to come over, but I’m sure as hell glad she did.”

  The men grunted.

  “Food, on account of the smacking,” Christopher repeated slowly.

  Reece nodded. “All right, all right.”

  He thanked his friends then started in on the second phase of his preparations: cooking.

  ***

  “You’re the best friend a girl could have,” Erica sniffed as she lay spread out on the couch, wrapped in three blankets. “I’m totally ruining your birthday.”

  I handed the puzzle piece to Little Noah.

  “Nonsense. I wasn’t gonna abandon you with two small kids when you’re like this,” I replied. “What do you have anyway?”

  “The flu. A bad, bad flu,” Erica croaked.

  “Poor thing,” I replied. “Don’t you dare get me sick.”

  “I’ve been disinfecting like mad,” she said. “And I don’t think I’m contagious anymore. Isn’t it like once you start exhibiting signs you’re out of the contagious phase?”

  I shrugged. “How should I know? Just don’t get me sick, or I’ll murder you.”

  “Not a fan of being sick in the summertime?” Erica asked.

  I shook my head. “Who gets the flu in the summertime?”

  “This is my lot in life,” Erica replied. “This is the kind of bullsh— the kind of stuff that happens to me.”

  I eyed her sternly then refocused my attention on the puzzle. Right now it was just Little Noah and me. Annie was napping. She’d been napping for an awfully long time, and I wondered if I should wake her up. Erica told me to let her sleep—that she was sick, too—and I argued that she wouldn’t go to bed tonight.

  “Noah will be home,” she explained.

  I laughed. “The poor guy’s been gone on business for a week, and now he’ll be up all night with a sick baby?”

  “He loves it,” Erica said, waving her hand dismissively. She looked at me and grinned.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” she replied airily.

  I hated when Erica did that. She obviously knew something I didn’t, was dying to tell me, but knew she wasn’t allowed. The worst part was that she wanted me to beg, and she knew I would.

  “I guess you know a surprise about my birthday?” I asked.

  “Of course, I do,” Erica replied. “Reece is doing something extra special since you two couldn’t spend the day together. I still feel badly about it.”

  “Stop feeling badly!” I chastised. “I offered to help.”

  “But I have other friends,” Erica pointed out.

  “None who would do this,” I said. “Except for your mommy friends, and you hate them.”

  “True.”

  “I just hope I’m not too tired tonight to . . . you know.” I glanced at Erica and winked.

  “Well, that’s why I didn’t ask you to take the kids to the park,” Erica said.

  I laughed.

  “I want you to have a fun birthday, Bailey,” Erica said softly.

  “Erica, I swear I am.”

  “I know you’re not big into surprises,” she went on.

  “I’m getting better about them.”

  Erica sat up too quickly and grabbed her face. “Dear. Lord.”

  “Take it easy there,” I said.

  She shut her eyes tightly as a wave of coughing took over. I instinctively covered my nose and mouth.

  “B-Bailey, I’m so . . . so p-proud of you,” she wheezed.

  “Finish coughing before you try to speak.”

  Once her coughing subsided, Erica gingerly leaned against the back of the couch, wincing at the soren
ess in her muscles.

  “Muscle aches are the worst, I think,” she said.

  I nodded.

  She took a deep breath. “So as I was saying, I’m really proud of you.”

  “Over what?”

  “Over what? Seriously? How about the fact that you walk into work at any time now.”

  “Before eight,” I clarified.

  “You know what I mean. You completely abandoned your 7:58 A.M. ritual.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you still count?”

  “Haven’t in months.”

  “And your proofreading pens?”

  “Wherever,” I replied.

  Erica’s eyebrows shot up. “Turning the stove knobs?”

  “I did that?”

  “A long time ago. In another life,” Erica said.

  I grinned.

  “And how about the hand sanitizer?”

  “Oh, I still do that, but I don’t have to apply it at exactly noon and three,” I said.

  “Oh, Bailey.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I just love how you’ve let go,” Erica said softly.

  “Me, too. I can’t believe how much I don’t care anymore. I can’t believe how another person was able to help me give up control.”

  “How did he do it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The magic of love, perhaps?”

  “Love,” Erica sighed. “It’s the most powerful force on the planet.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m so happy for you, B,” Erica said.

  “Thanks,” I replied. “And I’m happy for you. Business is booming, I hear. How do you spray all those clients?”

  “I hired a girl,” she replied.

  “What? When? You never tell me anything.”

  “About three weeks ago. I have so many clients I’m drowning,” Erica explained. She blew her nose, long and loud.

  “Is she doing it on her own yet?”

  “Today’s her first full day by herself since I trained her.”

  “Who is she?”

  “College student. Her name’s Taylor. She’s a junior. Business major.”

  “How’d you find her?”

  “Posted an ad on the boards all over campus,” Erica said. “She’s a sweetie. Really personable. Cute little thing. Fast learner, too.”

  I smiled.

  Erica thought for a moment. “She’s a quiet one, too. Totally has sh— stuff in her past I plan to dig up.”