by Bonnie Dee
While she was gone, I took the ring box from my pocket and flipped it open. The ring looked smaller and less shiny than it had under the lights in the pawnshop. The stone was too small, barely a diamond chip, really. Anna would hate it. Or she wouldn’t, because I would never give it to her. The whole idea was stupid.
Baby pulled at the lead, straining to get at some new and interesting smell. Probably dog shit. I moved along with her, hunching my shoulders against the wind and wishing I’d remembered to put on a hat.
Anna joined me and took the leash from my hand so I could take my turn at the restroom. The little building was warm and empty. Surprisingly few other travelers on the road today. I did my thing, then let the hand dryer warm up my frozen hands. I walked over to the Ohio map on the wall and the display of brochures that announced all the interesting tourist sites in the state. There weren’t many.
I stared at the map, reading the town names to myself as I rolled the little box over and over in my palm inside my pocket. I was going to do this thing. I loved Anna, and I wanted her to know I intended to have a future with her. The only question was when. Maybe waiting for Christmas Eve was wrong. Maybe I should tell her before we arrived, giving her time to think about it, and then later we could announce it to her parents.
A rosy daydream in which the result was all smiles and champagne toasts played out in my head. I must have lost track of time, because Anna popped up beside me again.
“Hey, I thought maybe some creepy trucker abducted you.” She slipped her arm through mine and rested her cheek against my shoulder. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just looking at…this interesting map.”
“Oo-kay. Guess we’d better get back on the road.”
I dropped the box into the bottom of my pocket and took Anna’s hand. We walked back to the car, where Baby was barking at the window to welcome us back.
The rest of the four-hour drive between Columbus and Anna’s childhood home in Michigan passed uneventfully, with plenty of rest stops and no snow squalls. We circled the outskirts of Detroit, avoiding the decayed heart of the city, and soon were driving through neighborhoods with homes like castles draped in tons of Christmas lights. A flurry of snow began to fall, just enough to add to the winter wonderland scene.
I looked over at Anna. She was frowning slightly, either concentrating on her driving or worrying about her mother again. And I found even that little pucker between her eyebrows adorable. I wanted to kiss it smooth. A powerful surge of emotion pushed through me, filled me with a sense of joy and the feeling that anything was possible.
I reached into my pocket and felt the ring box again, and my pulse began to race. “Um, Anna. Could you pull over for a minute?”
“Sure. What’s wrong? We’re only a few blocks away. Can it wait?”
“No.” The box was burning my hand now, and I felt like I might start hyperventilating. “There’s something I want to talk to you about before we get to your parents’ house.”
Anna stopped the car and turned to face me with a worried frown. “Are you okay? ’Cause they’re really not as horrible as I make them out to be. I mean, you met them. Sure, it was awkward, but now that my mom has adjusted to the idea of us being together I’m sure it will be—”
I grabbed her wrist. “Stop talking and let me get this out. It has nothing to do with your parents.”
And then I took the box from my pocket and offered it to her.
About a split second later, I knew it was a big mistake.
Anna
I stared at the little square blue box on Jason’s palm and felt as if all the air had been sucked from the car. My heart began pounding. Of all the events I guessed might happen on this trip, a proposal didn’t even make the list. We’d never discussed it. I’d had no clue Jason was thinking in those terms.
“Oh” was all I could manage to push out of my mouth. Then, as I considered that maybe it was just an early Christmas present, a pair of earrings perhaps, I added, “Is that…?”
He flipped the lid up, and, yes, it was a ring. A pretty little sparkling thing that looked as if it would fit my finger perfectly.
“Oh, Jason. It’s so… I had no idea. How long have you been planning this?”
“Not too long. I just started thinking about how much you mean to me. I love you, and I wanted to show it in a concrete kind of way.” He stared at the ring, then into my eyes again. “But I can tell it’s too soon. It was a bad idea.”
He closed the box, and his eyes got that shuttered look I recognized from earlier in our relationship.
“No.” I rushed to relieve his doubt. “It’s not that. I mean, I love you too, but I wasn’t expecting this, like, at all. We never talked about it. I need time to process.”
Jason nodded. “Sure. I get it. There’s a lot to consider.”
He still sat with the ring box on his palm. I reached out and took it. His hand dropped into his lap.
“This is horrible timing, right?” he said. “I should’ve known better. I was thinking I’d ask you Christmas Eve and it would be a romantic gesture, but I should’ve waited till we were at home. Stupid!” He talked faster, gesturing with one hand.
I captured his hand in mine and held on. “No. Not stupid. Very romantic.”
“At first I thought I should wait until I have more money saved, but we both know my income’s never going to equal yours. I’m never going to ‘get ahead,’ so I decided I’d just take the plunge. Go with my heart instead of common sense.”
Tears welled in my eyes, and I swallowed a lump in my throat as I leaned forward to throw my arms around him. “I love your heart.”
I realized I was a breath away from accepting his proposal. But the rationality instilled in me since birth beat down that emotional instinct. The older I got, the more I realized how much my mother’s daughter I was. Planning, discipline, and logic, the three-pronged approach to life. About the only instances of spontaneity I could remember were the day I’d picked Baby from a litter of puppies at a street fair, and the night I agreed to go out for coffee with the janitor in my building.
I let go of the Jason’s warm, solid body and sat back on my side of the car. “I’m…honored that you asked me. Just give me some time to think, and we’ll talk about it again, okay?”
“Yeah. That’s fine.” He shrugged. “It would be only an engagement anyway. Those can go on as long as you want.”
I nodded and smiled at him, wishing I could give an instant answer. There seemed to be nothing else to say. From the radio, a jazzed-up version of “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” filled the silence.
I put the car back in gear and headed through the last familiar streets to the house I’d grown up in. After living in an apartment in the city for a while, I’d forgotten how spacious a neighborhood could be. Huge houses were each set in parklike settings of trees, lawns, and gardens. No one’s view was interrupted by other houses. Low stone walls or wrought iron gates encircled each estate. I turned into my parents’ long driveway, passing matched pairs of lampposts wrapped in evergreen boughs and twinkle lights. The house loomed in front of us, equally decked out in Christmas cheer, every window lit up.
I glanced at Jason to gauge his impression, and I tried to imagine us coming here for many Christmases to come, maybe with a couple of kids in tow. If it was something I could picture, then maybe starting to think of marriage was the right thing to do.
“So this is where you grew up,” he said. “It’s—”
“Over the top, right? Too big for a family of three, let alone just my mom and dad rattling around in there. They should think of moving to a condo or something.”
“No. I was going to say it’s beautiful. Looks like a Christmas card.”
I looked again. It really did, especially now that snow had started to drift down in sparse flakes to cover the grass in white lace. An abrupt pang of nostalgia shot through me as a hundred holiday memories blossomed in my mind. The parties, the visiting relatives, my
friends coming to stay, and bright Christmas mornings full of excitement—I’d allowed myself to forget the wonderful times and focus on the tension and arguments of my last few years at home. Life with my mom and dad hadn’t really been all that bad, and this visit wouldn’t be either.
Chapter Four
Jason
“Your cousin’s name is Chloe. Her husband is Worthy, and their boys are…” I paused, waiting for the pieces to click into place. “Gulliver and Haynes.”
“Yes, they are.” Anna shook her head. “They actually are. Those poor kids.”
“So, your cousin’s a little, uh, weird?” I looked at the front of the house, every window brightly lit. My mom would’ve had a fit about the electric bill.
“She’s nice enough, but we never had much in common. We hung out when our parents got together like cousins do. A forced friendship.”
“Oh yeah. I remember that.” I thought of my Connecticut relatives and a fight I’d once had with my cousin. I was grateful to even have the memory. It had taken some time for a picture of my old life to fall back in place after the accident. There were many pieces I was still gathering.
“All Chloe ever wanted to do was have weddings for our Barbies or play dress up and act out a wedding. No surprise she became a wedding planner. As for Gulliver and Haynes… She always wanted unique names for the kids she’d have someday. ”
“Guess she achieved two goals, then.” I laughed, and Anna did too. For a moment, things were normal between us, and we forgot the huge fucking elephant of a ring in the room.
Light spilled from the open front door as Anna’s mom and dad came out under the portico.
“Ready?” Anna squeezed my hand, and then we got out of the car and went to meet her parents, leaving Baby to steam up the windows with her frenzied barking until after the greetings were over.
We entered the warmth and spicy fragrance of a holiday wonderland. Christmas oozed out of every pore of the pine-bough-and-ribbon-draped house. The next few minutes were a blur of hand shaking, smiles, and small talk. Anna and her cousin exclaimed and hugged as if they were best friends who’d been parted. I remember saying how well the drive had gone, and I remember Mr. Stevens’s firm grip when he shook my hand and how he stared into my eyes with an intensity that made me want to shit my pants. Anna’s mom gave me an equally calculating look while she smiled and talked about the other relatives who’d be there for the holiday.
Meanwhile, the two little kids, both way younger than my twelve-year-old sister Katie, were running around the grown-ups, tagging each other and shouting. Their mother—Callie?—occasionally ordered them to stop, but they didn’t pay any attention. And here Anna’s mom was worried that our dog would be annoying.
One of the two boys stopped to stare at me. He had a toy spacecraft clutched in one hand, and he studied me and Anna as if we were aliens who’d arrived.
The overlapping adult conversations were too much for me to process all at once, so I squatted down to talk with the kid. “What you got there?”
The boy continued to stare at me.
“When I was your age, I used to have a Millennium Falcon. You know, from the Star Wars movies. You ever watch those?”
He nodded, so I knew he was capable of understanding human speech.
“You like outer space stuff.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s your favorite show?”
“Captain Starstrider and the Planeterians.”
“A cartoon?” I guessed.
Before the kid could answer, his older brother darted by and snatched the toy from his hands. The little boy screamed, then they were off again, thumping up the stairs that led from the foyer.
I started to rise, but after hours in the car, my hip had stiffened, and suddenly my leg started to buckle. I had to grab Anna’s arm to get my balance.
She reached out to steady me. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” My face burned, and I prayed it wasn’t as red as it felt. The last thing I needed in this already awkward situation was the humiliation of seeming physically weak in front of Anna’s family. “I, uh, think I’ll go get Baby from the car. Give her a little walk.”
“Anna. I’m sorry to be such a stickler about the dog,” Mrs. Stevens said. “I got your text, and I understand the last-minute change in plans couldn’t be helped, but you know how I feel about animals in the house. Your pet will have to stay in the garage.”
“Yes, Mom. I realize. That’s what I expected. We brought her crate, and she’ll do fine out there.” Though her tone was pleasant, Anna’s jaw was tight when she turned to me. “I’ll help you.”
Her dad stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. “That’s all right. You ladies go catch up. We’ll bring in the luggage.”
And so I was cut off from the herd by my prospective father-in-law and Chloe’s husband, something that started with a W… Woolly? They flanked me and marched me out to the car, where Baby was in the midst of a nuclear meltdown. I was right there with her as she barked and barked her frustration.
I opened the door, and before I could get a grip on her leash, Baby leaped out and started to run around. She ignored my calls, too beside herself with excitement to respond as she normally would. Then she squatted right in the middle of a dormant flower bed and took a dump.
I hurried to catch hold of Baby’s trailing leash. After I’d gotten her under control, grabbed her furry face, and whispered that she was the worst dog in the world and if she didn’t stop acting up, I’d sell her, I returned to the car with a smile fixed on my face and the leash wrapped several times around my hand.
“Sorry about that. I’ll clean up her messes while we’re here.”
Mr. Stevens managed a tight smile. “That’s all right.”
I unlocked the trunk one-handed and struggled to unwedge Baby’s crate from between two suitcases.
“Let me get that for you,” the preppie-looking, perfectly groomed cousin said.
“I got it, Woolly.” I broke the crate loose while still hanging on to Baby’s leash. But the man was right. I couldn’t really keep control of the overexcited dog and carry the big crate.
Cousin Woolly took it from me. “So, Jackie said you work with animals?”
It took me a second to remember that Jackie meant Anna’s mom. Jackie and Stan. Two names I absolutely couldn’t falter on.
“Yeah, that’s right. Dog washing and walking and kennel cleaning.”
“That must be…a pleasant job,” Stan said. “Low stress.” All an underachiever like you can handle remained unspoken.
Trapped between a retired lawyer and a brand-new surgeon, I felt about as useless as dirty dishwater as they walked me toward the garage.
“I like working with the dogs,” I said to fill the awkward silence. “And the owners are really nice. I felt bad leaving them with a mess on their hands this morning.”
“Pipes burst, I hear?” the guy with the odd name—Woody? —said.
“Yeah. The power went off and the backup generator has to be started manually. They didn’t know till morning what had happened. By then the temperature had dropped, water froze in the lines, they broke and flooded the place.”
“Sounds like a good case for a suit,” Stan remarked. “It’s irresponsible to board animals and not have an emergency plan in place.”
I couldn’t argue with that, but I didn’t like to hear Sarah and Saffron bad-mouthed. The couple who owned Happytails Boarding had become like family to me in the short time I’d been working there.
The garage was enormous. Big enough for two cars and a third bay for whatever extra vehicle the homeowner might have from a motorcycle to a boat. Stan’s area was filled with golfing equipment and some saws and drill presses. There was also a work bench and a lot of tools hanging on the wall.
“Doing some woodworking?” I asked.
Stan pointed out the space where Woody could set the dog crate. “Yes. I’ve been making birdhouses.”
“Nice. My
dad likes to make things too. He owns a hardware store,” I offered lamely, and then silence resumed.
I longed to be at home. This three-day visit already seemed to have gone on for at least ten hours. My mind pinballed around trying to keep names straight, remembering what I needed to do next for the dog, and, of course, thinking about Anna’s less than enthusiastic reaction to my proposal. Information overload for somebody who functioned best on a regular routine.
The door from the garage into the house opened, and Anna appeared, light from behind haloing her like an angel come to save me from dysfunction.
“Hi. How’s my baby doing?” she said.
I released the kraken, and Baby charged. She leaped into Anna’s arms, wiggling and licking as if she hadn’t seen her in weeks.
“It’s all right. Good girl.” Anna soothed and patted the dog.
I remembered what I’d planned to do next and got out the dog dishes. After putting some food into one, I went inside the house to fill the other at the kitchen sink.
Jackie stood, stirring something in a mixing bowl and talking to Cousin Callie, or Chloe. They looked over at me when I entered.
“Just getting some water for the dog,” I said.
Anna’s mom drew her mouth into a polite smile that wasn’t very warm. “That’s fine.”
The smell of roasting meat and something sweet—maybe sugar cookies—made my stomach grumble. It had been a long time since we’d stopped for lunch. I tried to think of something to say, but nothing popped into my head, except the same drill about how uneventful the drive had been.
I half filled the dish and hurried out of the kitchen. Before the door closed behind me, I noticed Jackie had stopped stirring and was wiping my snow-wet footprints from the floor with paper towels.
Out in the garage, Anna was alone. Her dad and Woody had taken our luggage up to the room we’d be sharing—Anna’s bedroom. I wondered if her mom had left everything untouched. Anna had once told me I wouldn’t find boy-band posters and flowered wallpaper. Though always an overachiever, she’d dressed goth and listened to heavy metal back in the day.
