by Tracy Ewens
Ella was already dreading the weekend and it was only Wednesday. She had Saturday and Sunday off and nothing on her agenda save rewashing her bedspread and going to the grocery store for food she didn’t want. She couldn’t shake the sadness, but there was no way she was getting out of dinner with the girls, so she didn’t bother trying. Besides, Vienna and Thad were moving in together and she had orders for three wedding cakes in four weeks. Her friend was over the moon personally and professionally. The least Ella could do was put her weeping heart away for one night.
By the time the second or third round of laughter filled her living room, she was better. She meant what she’d said to Mason. They would all be fine. She didn’t know how long that would take, but spending time with friends was a start.
“Do you think you could make Twinkies?” Aspen asked as Ella came back from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne. What started as dinner had turned into a celebration for Vienna and Thad. Ella filled the crystal flutes her aunt on her mother’s side gave her years ago. It was nice to use things that had been tucked away in a cabinet for most of her life. Ella allowed herself a half glass even though she worked the next day. Living on the wild side, as Bri’s expression said across the room.
“Can I make Twinkies,” Vienna scoffed. “I make yellow sponge cake and cream filling. You’ll forget you’ve ever tasted a Twinkie. Twinkie, what? That’ll be you.”
They all laughed and clinked glasses. Ella had not had champagne since her parents’ anniversary party. This was joy, she thought as she set the bottle on her coffee table.
“I would like to make a toast.” Vienna unfolded herself from the couch and her eyes took in the space. “To my friends. My sisters in crime.”
“And yoga,” Ella said.
Vienna nodded. “And bendy time. Thank you for having my back and eating your weight in sugar and flour to keep me from eating cat food. I love you.” She raised her glass and they all joined her.
“When do you move in?” Sistine asked, grabbing a chocolate chip cookie off the tray on the coffee table.
“I don’t, he does. I have the better house, so he gave notice and we’ll be living together next month.”
“All in,” Ella said without even realizing it.
Vienna nodded. “Well, he can still move out. I can still throw him out, not that I’m thinking about it.”
“You won’t,” Ella said.
“Personal experience, ladies. Even after the ring and the fancy dress, it’s never all in, not all the time,” Bri said.
“What does that mean?” Aspen asked, pouring more champagne.
“Sometimes it’s seventy-thirty, other times it’s fifty-fifty, but life isn’t one hundred percent of anything all the time. No one is perfect. Now my marriage got to be like ninety me and ten him for about a year. That’s when things start to crumble. But neither of you are in that situation.”
They all sat staring at Bri, silent.
“You mean I’m not in that situation. Wait, are we talking about me still?” Vienna asked.
Bri looked at Ella.
“Don’t start,” Ella began to raise her hand in a gesture her friends rarely tolerated these days.
“Oh, put that thing down. Bri has something to say. The bubbles are flowing, sister, let it out,” Vienna said.
Bri shrugged. “Boyd is a great guy. His life is complicated, but he loves you, and so what if things are a little lopsided right now? They’ll ebb and flow. That’s real life, Ella.”
They were all still quiet. Ella couldn’t recall a better woman-the-hell-up speech. Bri was right, probably because she’d been through a lot. Ella, on the other hand, was only recently dealing in real life.
She stood up and brushed the cookie crumbs off the front of her sweatpants.
“Oh no, let’s not let this ruin the night. Bri, back out of Ella’s ice den, will ya?” Sistine said.
Ella’s eyes met Bri’s, and for not the first time, she saw the pain of loss, the disappointment of a failed fairy tale. She leaned forward and kissed her friend on the cheek.
“You better be right.”
Bri’s teary eyes turned to sarcasm. “I keep trying to tell you, I’m always right.”
Ella nodded. “Probably true.” She took in her cluttered living room. She was so glad she had her friends over, but in that moment, she needed to be somewhere. “I need an Uber.”
“Yeah, you do,” Aspen said, high-fiving Vienna.
“I think we have better Lyft coverage this time of night, but I’ll try both.” Sistine was already typing on her phone.
They all laughed, and Ella was filled with an urgency to fix things that had nothing to do with the physical body for the first time in her life. Her heart leaped in her chest and she liked the way that felt.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ella was tucked into a Lyft and on her way to Boyd’s house when she got the text that he needed to see her right away. At first, she thought something was wrong. She’d bumped into him a couple of times around town in the last few weeks and while they were back to “pleasantries,” as her mother would say, Ella certainly wasn’t his go-to person in an emergency. She gave her driver the new address and tried to quiet her enthusiastic heart.
The Tap House was dark as she walked up. Closed at 9:00 p.m. on a Wednesday? She stepped across the threshold and called out. Nothing. She checked her phone to confirm he’d said The Tap House and then what sounded like a shuffle of feet cut through the space. Before she had a chance to panic, a string of lights illuminated the darkness and Boyd walked in from the shadows. It seemed like he was moving through stars. Her breath caught and she wondered how long it would take before the sight of him dulled, before her heart learned its place again.
“You know when you ask people how they are and they say they’re fine?”
Ella nodded.
“I think when Mason was born and Claire bailed, I loved him so much that nothing else mattered. If he was healthy and had what he needed, I was fine.”
“That makes sense. I understand. Please don’t—”
“Cade says fine is like barely living.”
“He says a lot of things. If you’re happy being fine then—”
“I’m not.”
She met his eyes, and Boyd hesitated as if he had lost his place.
“I don’t want to be fine anymore.” He stepped closer and she forgot everything she’d planned on saying.
“I’m not sure if it happened the minute I met you, or when you became Mason’s friend, no questions asked. I have no idea when it all happened but my heart.” He swallowed. “It’s never going to be the same if I can’t fix this. I love you.”
He was inches from her face now. She closed her eyes because the tenderness in his eyes was too much. She wasn’t going to be able to say a word, make things right, if he kept looking at her that way.
“I’m absolutely out of control here, Ella. Mason has a busted nose and suddenly seems smarter than I am. Claire emailed me asking what I thought if she adopted a ‘little baby’ now that our kid is getting older. Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. In fact, stop saying I’m sorry altogether.” He took her face. “I’m in love with you. I was in love with you when you first told me, but I’m not as brave as you are. You’re brilliant and gorgeous. You’re everything I never imagined walking into my life and now… Now I find that you are the calm in my storm.”
“Boyd.” Her eyes welled.
“Now, if you’ve decided that you can’t handle all my baggage, I get that, but I’m still going to try to convince you I’m worth a chance because here’s the thing: I can’t find my way back to fine. I need you more than I have ever needed anything in my life. You want all in, you want to be my one person. You are.”
“I know. I wanted to tell you that…”
Boyd dropped to one knee. “It is never going to be better than you, Ella. It never has been and it never will be. Y
ou are my one shot at more than fine and I’m going all in.” He opened the small velvet box.
“Dad?”
Boyd’s knee was killing him as he turned to find his son at the front door.
“Mason, go away. I’m busy. Wait, what are you doing here?”
“Are you down on one knee? What the hell? Do people even still do that? Aren’t you supposed to make some grand gesture? Like adventure proposal or a flash mob?”
Boyd stood. The floor was hard and the moment was now ruined. Mason walked toward them.
“Let’s try that again, why are you here?” he asked, sticking the ring box back in the pocket of his jeans.
“Uncle Trick had some ‘work flair, work flow’ he had to do. He was pissed. I… mean he was perturbed.”
Ella laughed.
“So, I told him to drop me off here so I could try to beat Aspen’s high score in Galaga before I was supposed to be home.”
“We’re closed.” He gestured to the emptiness. “The whole place is closed early so I could… I mean I wanted this to be. You thought you’d pop by a bar alone, at night?”
“I’ve got a key.”
“Wow, not the point. Okay, well I’m trying to do something here, so wait in the truck.”
“No Galaga? It’s in the back and I’ll be out of your way. Can’t I play a few rounds while you try to get Ella to marry you with your old-school knee thing?”
“You are so over the line that I might have to ground you forever. Maybe you should join Sistine’s book club, because that will be your social life in high school.”
“Is that a no on the Galaga?”
Boyd turned to Ella as if to say, “Are you seeing this?” She had wiped away any tears and now couldn’t stop smiling. It was so good to see that smile. He wanted to give her everything, starting with a ring, damn it.
“Can I play Galaga, Ella?”
“Why are you asking her?”
“She’s nicer and the way she’s looking at you, I’m guessing she’s going to say yes.”
“How do you know?” Boyd hoped like hell his son was right.
“I told you like forever ago. She broke eye contact. She likes you, probably loves you by now and besides, girls go for clumsy and nervous, remember? You’re in, Dad. She digs your weirdness.”
Boyd closed his eyes. “Two rounds, that’s it.”
“Then can we get pizza on the way home?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m starving,” Ella said.
Mason beamed and the impossible happened: Boyd loved her more.
“Finish strong, Dad. She’s the best.”
Boyd turned to her as Mason disappeared around the corner. Pulling the ring from his pocket, he gave up on the steps. Life wasn’t a series of do this and you’ll get that. He should know that by now. He wanted to marry her and he needed to ask her his way.
Letting out a slow breath, he opened the ring box and all but leaped into her beautiful eyes. “I love you. Please share my life, our life.”
She smiled, slow and gorgeous. “I’ve missed you.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Give me a minute. I want this to last as long as possible.”
“Great. Well, at least if I have a heart attack you’ll know what to do.”
She laughed and then grew serious. Touching the sides of his face, she gently kissed him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Was she going to look at the ring? Maybe this was a bad sign. Enough with the signs, he thought and instead focused on what he knew. She loved him and he was open and letting her in.
“I was on my way over to your house when I got your text.”
“Why?”
“I needed to tell you something.”
Recoiling was dramatic—he didn’t truly recoil, but it was something close to that. He had a ring, she’d seen the ring, but before all of that she needed to tell him something? Yeah, he felt a heart attack coming on.
Ella wrapped her arms around him. “I don’t need you to be one hundred percent all the time. That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay.”
“Sometimes it can’t be that way. We need to ebb and flow. Keep things loose and flexible. I get that now. I think that was most of it.”
He tried desperately to order his thoughts. What the hell was she saying? Ebb and flow? Christ, had she been talking to Cade?
“Ella, I just got up off my knees. I have a tiny box in my hand. I’m not looking to ebb and flow with you. I want to marry you. One hundred percent, all in. That’s what you said you needed and I’m here… giving it to you. Don’t go all Zen on me now.”
She laughed and then she started to cry. He wiped away her tears and practically drowned in her smile. Her face glowed under the soft string of lights. God, it was a miracle he’d lasted this long without her. No way in hell he was ebbing and flowing ever again.
He opened the box and her eyes went to the ring.
Patrick had helped him pick it out. It was a square stone set low into a platinum band. Simple and perfect, his brother had agreed as they stood there getting all choked up. At first the jeweler had shown them larger solitaries, but Boyd knew she would not want over the top and he wanted a ring she could wear at work. The ring had become more important than he imagined. He wanted her to carry the memory of him asking for her heart every day, even when their lives returned to the normal rhythm.
“It’s incredible,” she whispered as if there wasn’t enough air in her lungs.
“Ella.” He lifted her chin. “Marry me.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For sharing your son with me. For loving me.”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Doc.” He kissed her.
“That’s right, cry home to mama, you slimy bastards,” Mason roared from the back room.
Ella smiled, her lips still on his, and she eased back to laugh. Boyd should have told his son to watch his mouth like he had at least a hundred times before, but he’d let this one slide. He knew there would be endless family moments ahead and he wanted a little more time. A few more beats before pizza, twenty questions, and discussions about which jeans were cooler for high school. He wanted to be a guy who had asked a beautiful and smart-as-hell woman to marry him, and she’d said yes. He pulled her in closer, kissed her deeper, and knew the rest of his life was going to be so much more than fine.
Epilogue
The autumn brew had been a “piece of cake,” according to Boyd. He’d gone with vanilla and praline, flavors that “remind me of my fiancée,” he told her right before she’d had a taste. They named it Golden Lace. The man was more romantic than he knew. Ella stepped onto the back porch of Boyd and Mason’s home, soon to become their home, to watch the sun set orange and pink over the river. She had cleared the dishes and the two of them were loading the dishwasher, so she stepped out into the cold December dusk. Pulling her sweater closed, she questioned if it was possible to be too happy, to have too much love. She’d spent a good portion of her life needing approval and pushing away when her ego or her heart were left wanting.
Home, she thought, looking back at the glow of light from the kitchen window. This was what it felt like to be home. It wasn’t perfect; perfect was stifling. This was real joy sprinkled with bits of angst and frustration to keep things balanced.
She remembered Boyd’s words—that everything needed good and bad. She knew there would be challenges in their life together. In three months, she was marrying a man with a teenager, whose mostly absent mother recently adopted a baby with her new husband. Ella’s parents were not invited to the wedding, nor was her sister. They were joy suckers and she wasn’t having that on the day she was set to stand in front of her chosen family and swear to love, laugh, and protect her favorite person. She would walk herself down the aisle, give the woman she’d worked so hard to become away to a man she knew would cherish her work. Her family would still be in their future and the drama would, of cours
e, continue, but not on that day.
There were plenty of trials ahead, but in that moment, as the black of night took over the sky, Ella smelled popcorn. She heard Mason arguing with Boyd over which movie they were watching—all seemed right with her world. Christmas was less than a week away and she’d never felt more connected.
“Help.” Mason slid open the back door. “Dad wants to watch some documentary on… What was it again?” he called over his shoulder into the house.
“Sea wolves in British Columbia. Your famous uncle said it’s awesome.” Boyd was still out of sight, but his voice came through loud, deep, and clear. She loved that voice.
Mason turned to her, wide-eyed. “Help,” he mouthed without a sound. She laughed and turned to go into the house.
“Why are you out here?” he asked. “It’s cold.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, but cold as—”
“Do not say the next word,” Boyd said, appearing in the doorway and putting his arm around his son.
“I was going to say cold as… icicles or snowmen or… tiny little sea wolves.”
“Smart-ass.”
“You see it’s that kind of bad language that led to my downfall.”
“Oh really?” Boyd rolled his eyes.
Mason nodded. “No, not really. I’m a saint compared to half my high school. Balls is the least of your worries.”
Ella, still laughing, walked between them into the warmth of the house. She was used to what she now called microbursts between father and son. In the beginning of her relationship with Boyd, she worried that messing with their life might change things. There was nothing to worry about—the Boyd and Mason Show went on despite any female distraction. She sat on the couch and put the popcorn bowl in her lap. Boyd sat next to her, kissed her until Mason cleared his throat, and took a handful of popcorn. Mason sat on the other side of Ella, suddenly serious.
