by Grace Palmer
She whipped her hands away and smacked him on top of the head. “I knew it! You are so bad.”
“I’m sorry, Tash. I couldn’t help myself.” He got up and hugged her, giving her a saucy kiss on the cheek.
She accepted it reluctantly and tried to keep her voice laid back and nonchalant. “Don’t be. I saw it coming. Just a shame there was nobody here to see it. Everyone else in town seems to find you hilarious.”
He was still wiping tears of laughter off his cheeks as they made their way out of the community theater. “They do seem entertained.”
He had been pulling these fake proposal pranks for about six months now. It all started when, after several beers, he’d won a ridiculously large plastic ring at the state fair and jokingly proposed to her in front of a roller coaster. An elderly woman, unaware that they messing around, though it was a serious proposal and alerted the assorted crowd to the special moment, much to the amusement of the two would-be fiancées. The crowd had started applauding, and Eddie had been so entertained by the misunderstanding that he started to re-create the moment several times around Willow Beach. It was a guaranteed hit to any townsfolk who happened to be in the area, though most of the citizens were now, for the most part, in on the joke.
However, as of late, Eddie had taken it a little far and sprung these fake proposals on her again and again without warning. It was still funny, for sure. At least, that’s what everyone else seemed to agree on.
But Tasha found that, lately, her heart gave her a little jolt of disappointment each and every time.
That took her by surprise—her whole life, she’d never thought of herself as the marrying type. She and Eddie had talked about exactly that, about their parents and how marriage seemed to leave so many people unhappy. At the time, it’d been easy and true for her to say that she didn’t care about marriage.
And if you asked her now, she’d say the same thing. Who cares about a wedding or a marriage license? She loved Eddie and Eddie loved her. A silly signed marriage certificate wouldn’t change that.
That was all well and good. But there was a little part of her that hoped, each and every time she turned to find Eddie on one knee, that this time—maybe, just maybe—it might be real.
3
Drew
Six Months Earlier
“You’re quiet as a church mouse, Drew. That scared of me, eh?” Greg Pearson, the father of Drew’s girlfriend Ashley, chuckled beside him.
Drew blinked, at a loss for words for a moment. He cleared his throat and then quietly replied, keeping his tone hushed, “I’m sorry, Mr. Pearson. When I went out fishing with my dad, he’d always tell me to keep quiet so we didn’t chase the fish away. I guess old habits die hard.”
He shrugged and forced a grin on his face. The truth was that it wasn’t the fish he was trying to get on friendly terms with. He needed to impress Ashley’s dad, needed to keep him in a good mood if he wanted to make the most of this fishing trip.
Mr. Pearson nodded, sympathy in his green eyes. “I understand. Well, when you’re out with me, don’t you worry about a little chatter. As long as you don’t start yodeling at the top of your lungs, the fish won’t mind a little muted conversation.”
Drew nodded at this and threw his line out once more. It was tranquil out here on the Damariscotta River, just outside of Willow Beach. But Mr. Pearson’s South Carolina accent had a nasty knack for reminding Drew of his time playing baseball with the Rock Hill Rangers. Or rather, the painful time that followed with his being cut from the team.
He’d made a solemn promise never to think of it again, but every time Mr. Pearson spoke, it was like he was being transported back to those awful days when his dreams of being a professional athlete had come to a screeching halt. The aftereffects of the flashbacks—sweaty palms, a distant look in his eyes, sometimes even a stammer in his voice—certainly weren’t helping him charm the man, either.
Ashley’s folks had ended up purchasing a vacation home in Willow Beach, so he’d been seeing quite a lot of them. More than he liked, if he was honest. Greg Pearson was a nice enough fellow, but he was a big, burly bear of a man who was more than overly protective of his daughter. He didn’t have a problem deciding what was best for his little girl, either, drawing a line in the sand between good and bad. Anything that was deemed “bad” was strictly off limits for Ashley, even though she was in her twenties and perfectly capable of making her own decisions by now.
So Drew just had to make sure he ended up on the right side of that line.
He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the question he wanted to ask. Before he got the chance, Mr. Pearson whistled as something tucked on his line.
“Got a big one!” He reeled it in and expertly retrieved the fish from the water. He unhooked the fish and tossed it into a bucket on the small boat they currently shared.
“Wow, that’s awesome!” Drew hoped he sounded sincere. “That’s a keeper. Good start to the day.”
“I agree, son. I agree.” He readied the line and threw it out again before the two men fell silent once more.
Drew closed his eyes then, readying himself for the second time. He never felt nerves like this when he used to play ball. During a big game, when everything depended on him doing his part, he knew he had what it took.
Truth be told, he missed that feeling—how simple life seemed when he was up to bat. Only one thing to worry about: the ball coming across the dirt, white leather and red stitching blurring together as it hurtled towards him. The feeling of all his muscles clenched as he tightened, pivoted, and then the beautiful release of the swing. Perfect rhythm, blissful contact…
This was far more complicated. He felt lost, hazy, and a little confused. But he knew what he wanted. That much at least he was certain about. He wanted to marry Ashley Pearson, and in order for that to happen, he needed her father’s blessing.
No time like the present, he thought. Just wind up and swing.
He cleared his throat and turned to the man. “So, uh. Mr. Pearson, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”
The reply was a grunt and a sideways glance. “Have you now? Go on then.” Without pulling his line, Ashley’s father pinched his lips together and waited for Drew to speak.
Drew took a deep breath and charged forward. “Well, you see… Ashley and I have been together for a while now. Going on two years. And, so…Well, I was thinking, I would very much like to spend the rest of my life with her. So before that, or I mean, in order to, well, I… I would like your blessing. For her hand. In marriage.”
Inwardly, Drew groaned. This was not at all how he’d practiced asking this question. At home in front of his mirror, or when rehearsing this moment with Tasha, his words came out smooth and confident.
Now, when it actually mattered, he sounded as he had the summer before high school, when he’d accidentally hit a baseball through the inn’s front window and found himself in need to explain the situation to their father. Stumbling, silly, and way, way out of his league.
Making matters worse, Mr. Pearson sat quietly for what felt like hours. When at last he moved, it was only to pull in his line. He placed the rod on the bench and turned, facing Drew, who knew right then that the news he was about to receive was not good.
He was right about that much.
“Drew, you are a nice kid,” Mr. Pearson said. “Ashley loves you; I can tell that. In the future, who knows? It might be feasible you two could get married. However, I will tell you that right now is not that time.”
Drew swallowed, mortified at this reply. “But why? I don’t understand.”
Mr. Pearson sighed and shook his head. “That is exactly why. You ain’t mature enough yet to understand you are in no position to make such a request. Look at your life. You had a bright future ahead of you and it didn’t work out. That’s unfortunate. But that’s life. You gotta pull yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep on trucking, young man. I ain’t seen no sign of that. So far, in fac
t, it seems you’re floundering. I mean, working at a mechanic’s as a helper? I thought you had something going with the freelance journalism, but you seem to have given up on that. So. Mechanic’s helper it is. Is that the future you see for yourself? And for my daughter?” He shook his head. “It don’t exactly put a father’s mind at ease. I can’t allow that for my little girl.”
Drew swallowed. He enjoyed working with his sort-of uncle, Sam, down at the auto shop. It had never occurred to him before to be embarrassed about that. He’d found solace there after getting cut from the Rock Hill Rangers.
Did he see his future in car mechanics? No. But it paid the bills while he waited on an epiphany, and it felt good to do things with his hands. To make customers happy. To end the day tired, sore, and dirty, like he’d done a real man’s work. Surely that was worthwhile?
He didn’t know how to say all that to Mr. Pearson, though. “I’ll find the right career path sooner or later,” he protested. “But Mr. Pearson, I can provide for your daughter. I promise I can. Isn’t my word good enough? Why does it matter how I do it?”
The man shook his head. “That’s just it, Drew. It matters. If you’d told me just now that your heart is set on being a mechanic, that you love it and it fulfills you, I might not have minded. But your heart isn’t in it. It’s just a job, and not much of one at that. You’ve said so many times. The truth is, you don’t know what you want. You’ve not found your place. And I fear you are pulling my Ashley down that same path.”
Drew shook his head. “I don’t mean to keep contradicting you, sir, but that’s not it at all. Ashley wants to be a vet and I want that for her. I want to support her.”
Again, the older man shook his head and scratched the stubble on his chin. “And as you know, Drew, Ashley already made life-altering choices because of you. She was all set to go to Oregon to start her studies, but she meets you and all of the sudden, I found out she’s switching to school here in Maine instead? And then, to top it off, she’s taking a year off before even doing that much? It ain’t good, Drew. I don’t like the way things have progressed.”
Drew didn’t know what to say. Everything Mr. Pearson was saying was true. Ashley transferred to USM to complete her bachelor’s degree in biology and was meant to enroll in the veterinary program straight after. Since the program took four years, they’d decided she would take a year off to intern with Melanie at her clinic so she and Drew could spend more time together. He was aware this didn’t exactly please her ornery father, but that he’d use it as an excuse to turn down his request to marry her baffled Drew.
He sat silently, brooding, as her father placed a hand on his shoulder. “Give it some time, son. Figure out what you want. Find a proper career. Make sure my girl is on the path to do what she always wanted to do and then we can talk again. Right? Now, these fish will get bored soon if we don’t pay them any attention.” He winked and patted the bench as if that sealed things up.
Turning his attention back to the lake, Mr. Pearson left Drew to sit and stew silently, his hopes now dashed before him. His eyes fell toward the fish in the bucket who was still struggling. Flailing. Floundering. Far from where he belonged.
Drew could certainly relate.
“Baldwin?”
Drew looked up to see Matt Harrison, his supervisor, standing over his desk, a bemused expression on his face.
“Sorry, Mr. Harrison. Lost in thought, I’m afraid.”
Harrison waved a hand dismissively. “No worries. Thinking longingly back to your days as a ball player?”
Drew shook his head. “Those days are long gone.”
He paused, aware he had to come up with something interesting to tell the guy. He couldn’t very well tell him he’d been reminiscing about the day six months ago that his potential father-in-law had dashed all his hopes of marrying the girl of his dreams. That might then lead to an uncomfortable conversation about how he ended up working here, at a property developer’s office, and he might accidentally let it slip that he didn’t exactly have a “burning, heartfelt desire” to become a property developer in the future, as he’d claimed in his interview. Sometimes, you had to fib to get ahead in life. He’d learned that the hard way.
He couldn’t have very well told the truth during the interview. Geez, Mr. Harrison. I don’t really care one bit about developing property or the real estate market. I kinda like tinkering with cars, but my girlfriend’s dad demands I get a proper career before I can marry her. So, I saw this position open up and I figured, why the heck not? Can I start Monday? What do you say? He smiled to himself as he imagined how that might have gone.
Aware of his supervisor’s eyes still on him, he looked up.
“Actually, I was thinking about the lineup for the weekend. We have a game against the Newport Hawks.” This caused his supervisor’s face to light up. As it should. Drew volunteered at the Willow Beach High School as a coach on the very same baseball team Matt Harrison’s son played on.
“Oh, yeah, we’ll be there. I hope Mike’s playing.”
Drew nodded. “He sure is. He’s got potential.” This at least was the truth. Mike Harrison was one of the best players on the team.
“Good. Love to hear it. Now, ready for the staff meeting?”
Drew glanced at the clock. It was almost two. Their weekly meeting was about to begin. He nodded and gathered his papers together and then followed Matt Harrison into the conference room.
“Is the boss coming today?” he asked as he sat down next to Rachel Roberts, his fellow leasing agent. They were hired the same week and had completed all of their training together. Given that Drew had a long-standing rivalry with Rachel’s brother, Rex, they were not exactly friends. Still, they got along well enough.
“Doubt it. It’s been six months and I still have yet to meet this mystery man. Don’t you think it’s odd?”
Drew shrugged. He supposed it was strange. Maxwell Porter, the owner of Porter Property Development, was indeed a man shrouded in mystery. There was an office at the end of the hall with his name on it, but the man was never there. Or at least, not when the office was open and populated with people.
“Maybe he doesn’t like working around other people. Might be a night owl.”
Rachel shrugged, “Suppose so. Still strange.”
They fell silent for a moment while Drew’s eyes were wandering toward the tray of donuts on the table head of them. While a man of mystery, Maxwell Porter seemed keen to provide his employees with as many empty calories as possible since there were always donuts, cakes, and bagels available. He did his best to refrain—he’d learned the hard way that eating like a ballplayer without working out like one led to nothing but trouble in the love handle department.
Rachel had no such qualms. She grabbed a raspberry-filled donut and bit into it, sending red jam shooting out of the side. He shuddered, uncomfortably reminded of the first time he’d reacquainted himself with her brother, Rex.
“What is it?” Rachel asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. You just reminded me of Rex.”
“Uh, don’t say that. How’s me eating a donut making you think of him anyway?”
Drew turned and saw more of his colleagues still trickling in one after the other. He leaned over toward Rachel. “It’s the jam. It reminded me of the fight I had with him. He ended up with a bloody lip. As did I.”
She chuckled. “I remember. You got yourself arrested at The Duke Saloon. He still talks about it whenever anyone mentions Duke’s. Or you. Or the police. You two were lucky all the charges were dropped. You’d never have gotten this job.”
Drew nodded silently. He was well aware of exactly that.
“What was the fight over anyhow? To hear Rex tell it, you made a move on the girl he was interested in.”
Drew let out a whooping sound which drew the attention of Harrison, who frowned.
“Sorry,” he said before lowering his voice. “It was my girl he made a move on. Ashley, in fact. You know? M
y live-in girlfriend? Rex pushed his way into the conversation and…well. You know the rest.”
Rachel rolled her eyes then. “I do, quite well. It was memorable, at least for Rex. And as it turns out, all for nothing, since you’re still with Ashley while he can’t keep a girl for more than a month.”
Drew turned and looked out of the window. There were snow flurries falling outside, giving the town a magical look. It would be lovely for when they walked around town later on that evening.
He loved spending the holidays with Ashley. He loved spending any day with Ashley, actually. She was everything to him. Despite their rocky start, he knew she was all he ever wanted.
If only her father would relent and give his blessing. He knew Ashley well enough to know she’d never agree to marry him if her parents were against it. She was loyal like that. Hopefully, working his way up in this company would convince her father he was serious about life, and marriage.
He glanced around the room. The meeting was now in progress. One by one, his colleagues gave their updates, a dull drone of facts and figures and different projects underway.
The large leather chair in the middle, belonging to the owner, was empty as usual. Drew leaned back and sighed. This wasn’t his world at all. He didn’t thrive in this environment, but it was his future now. It had to be.
“Mr. Baldwin?”
He looked up and found his supervisor staring at him. Right. It was his turn to report. He cleared his throat and shuffled papers.
“Right. Uh… Yeah, so I got the condo on Burton Beach all booked up into February and I’m about to launch the campaign for spring break on Instagram and Twitter, aiming for the younger college crowd to come in. I have a marketing plan ready for the new Inverness property, too. I’m happy to share it with you.”
Harrison nodded. “Awesome. Burton Beach is hopping now, as the kids say. Expanding into Inverness is smart as well. Work with Charles on that.” He paused. “Might put you on some new accounts we’ve got coming up in Willow Beach.”
