Cop a plea, p.17
Cop a Plea, page 17
“You think?” she asked sarcastically. Then her voice turned somber. “You really hurt me, Pete. I thought you were holding a grudge from our childhood. While I knew I was so much more than the kid who coined you Penis in elementary school, I still internalized your words. They ate at me.” She started to draw shapes on my leg with her finger again. “My reaction threw me. Normally, I’d be able to move on and put your insensitivity behind me. But I couldn’t because you wormed your way under my skin. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I hated myself for being so weak.”
“I’m sorry,” I said automatically.
“Don’t apologize. You more than made up for your slight. At the time, though, I was struggling. My track record with guys was crap. I thought I finally found a good one.” She looked up at me and smiled, warming my heart. “When I felt like you thought I was a bad apple? It did a number on my self-esteem. I had zero desire to face my needy, self-absorbed sister and her curated-Insta-perfect life when I felt so pathetic about my own existence.”
“Is she really that bad?”
“Sort of, although Merritt does usually provide some great comic relief. It’s sad that we all can’t have perfect sisters like Nancy. If you think I’m kidding or exaggerating, I’m not. You were home from the hospital for only two days. Instead of checking on your progress, or my sanity, she wanted to know if Sydney’s sister still worked for the department store. And when I said yes, she had the nerve to ask if I could call in some favors and try to snag some swag for some fundraising event she was running! Helping her take the easy way out of her obligations was the last thing I wanted to do then.”
“I bet. Although, I’d wager you did ask Syd, though.”
She groaned. “Yeah, I did. Deep down, I have a big heart. I’m like an M&M—I have a hard shell, but inside, I am a gentle soul.” She poked me in the rib. “Like you are. But before you design the statue in my honor, I kept two-thirds of the swag I collected for the penny auction at Clara’s school.”
“Ha! Love it.”
“Figured you would. So, once we got together, I was excited to visit and sing your praises. I was on cloud nine, and I practically floated down to South Carolina. I was in such a great mood I didn’t even have one disagreement with Merritt—a true Christmas miracle.” She giggled. “Oh, sorry. You were asking about me meeting Clara...”
“Yeah, but feel free to go on tangents.”
“We’ll be here all week if I don’t stay on point,” she said, joking.
Fine by me.
“I was so nervous when you suggested it. I thought it was too soon, too big a step. But you insisted. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I went to your house. I brought a box of cupcakes from Crazy Cakes with me, which she liked.”
“Who could blame her?”
“I could go for a couple of dozen now myself.” Then she added, “Seriously, despite the baked goods, she still gave me the cold shoulder!”
“Why? Sugar was always the way to her heart.”
She laughed. “Like her dad, the girl’s got a good memory and can hold a grudge like a champ.”
“What do you mean?” Did the kid get all my bad traits?
“I met Clara once before. At the farmer’s market. You wanted to talk, but I was too stubborn to give you a chance. Then I did something I instantly regretted to try to make you jealous.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
“Never mind. Sometimes your loss of memory has its advantages.” She laughed. “Let’s just say my ploy worked like a charm. According to Clara, you became Mr. Cranky Pants, and her perfect afternoon was ruined.”
“Poor kid.” Poor me.
“I think she only let me in the front door because of the bright blue bakery box I was holding. ‘Oh, it’s you’ were her exact words when she saw my face. Then she turned around and stomped away. I wanted to run away too.”
“Oh god. What did I do?”
“You took the box from me and practically dragged me into the house and tried to soothe the situation. You told her I was your friend, and you even begged her to give me a chance. She remained silent. Eventually, the cake was the deal-breaker. Clara must have realized she wasn’t getting any if she kept up the poor behavior, so she told you she’d consider being nice after she ate a cupcake.”
“And?”
“Then we went ice skating.”
“But I don’t skate.”
“Yeah, but I do. You had previously told me Clara was taking lessons at the Pebble Cove rink. When I suggested hitting the ice, her frosty disposition thawed a bit.”
I closed my eyes. I pictured the scene.
“When we got to the rink, you were concerned. Images of me nose-diving on the dance floor were swimming in your head. I assured you I could handle the ice and only fall when I wear high-heeled shoes.”
“I bet I was hoping for an excuse to carry you off the rink like I did the night of the reunion.”
“No doubt!” she exclaimed. “Clara and I started slow. She even held my hand, which was quite the milestone. You must have felt left out, sitting on the sidelines with the other suckers, because eventually, you and your shaky feet joined us.”
“We must have looked cute.”
“Are you kidding me, Ennis? I was too nervous a wreck to look cute! You were wiggling and wobbling all over the place. I kept yelling at you to go slower and be careful, which Clara enjoyed. You’re too big a guy—you were a menace to the entire rink. One wrong move and you’d land on a kid and squish them to death. I even threatened to get you an ice skate pusher.”
I gasped. “You mean one of those plastic walker things the little kids use?”
She laughed. “Yes. And I would have done it too. Fortunately for you, there were none higher than your mid-calf. You think I’m joking. You could have used the help! Eventually, somehow, you found your sea legs, or maybe Clara gave you a couple of pointers. I don’t remember. All I know is I asked Clara if she wanted to see me do a trick, and, of course, she did.”
I closed my eyes and listened to her words.
“I left you two practically hugging the wall, picked up speed, and then skated to the center of the rink. Then muscle memory kicked in, and I busted out my old figure skating moves. First, I did a double Lutz. Then I raised my ankle high in the air, held onto it with my hand, and spun in circles.”
I let out a slow whistle. “Wow.”
“The look on your face was priceless. Although, I don’t know why. By then, you were well aware of just how flexible I was.”
I couldn’t help it and let out a little moan, which she noticed. Should I kiss her?
She reached up and ran her hand down my face. “Your reaction wasn’t much different then. Somehow, you and Clara managed to skate to the center where I was. You didn’t care that your kid and an entire rink of strangers were watching us. You wrapped me up in your arms and gave me the biggest, most intense kiss ever. Then Clara hugged us both. Instead of reacting to her showing me affection, you just kept on kissing me. It was super romantic, totally Hollywood-worthy.”
Waverly
forty-two
I knew precisely what Pete would ask next, and he didn’t disappoint.
“What was the worst moment?”
“Hmm. Hard one. I don’t know. It’s a toss-up between you nearly dying and not remembering me.”
He tickled me, just like he used to. “That doesn’t count. I want you to tell me something I don’t remember.”
“Oh,” I said as I looked into his eyes. “Shouldn’t we stick to the good moments only? Wouldn’t that be a better way to jog your memory?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t want a fairytale.”
Sometimes I felt like our whirlwind relationship was a modern-day fairytale. Or at least a Lifetime movie.
When I didn’t reply, he added, “I want to keep it real. No relationship is perfect. I’m sure we got on each other’s nerves or disagreed about things.”
“Except for me stealing all the covers, which you eventually got used to, we didn’t irritate each other. Sure, there would be a flash of frustration here or there, but we’d usually be able to laugh off the annoyance fairly quickly.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming. Come on—don’t hold back—spit it out.”
“Fine.” I grimaced. “Your mother has been the bane of my existence.”
He laughed. “Shocker. She does have a special way about her.”
I nodded. “Ironically, after spending so much time with her in the hospital, I think I understand her better, although it doesn’t make dealing with her any easier.”
“She’s a tough cookie.”
“Yeah, but instead of warning me about her, you kept me away from her. Now, I understand why. But before your accident, you never told me about the difficulties Caroline had with her.”
“That was stupid of me.”
“Yeah, it was. Very.”
“I was probably trying to protect you.”
“Maybe… Your good intentions hurt me in the end.” I faced him. “Listen, Pete. We don’t know what will happen next or what our future holds for us. If somehow, we can make this work, which I desperately want, you can’t keep secrets or try to shield me. I’m tough and strong.”
“I know. The last few months prove it.”
“Good. Now, back to then… Your silence allowed my over-active, anxiety-prone brain to craft the story of why you were afraid to have her meet me.” I resumed my invisible doodles on his thigh as I reflected. “I gushed so much about you, my mom and sister couldn’t wait to meet you. And I couldn’t wait to show you off.
“We went down to South Carolina for Presidents’ Weekend when the schools were closed. While Merritt may be a brat, her kids are terrific. Clara had so much fun with them, and you charmed the socks off Merritt and my mother. The trip couldn’t have been better.
“Soon after we returned to New York, we had dinner with Nancy and Tom, which was super fun. Then, Billy had a meeting in the city and brought Kim for the weekend. We met them in Soho, and I hit it off with them, too. I desperately wanted to meet your parents, but you kept hemming and hawing, making excuses. I couldn’t grasp why you wanted to keep me away from them.
“As time went on, I became more upset and more concerned, which I vocalized. We fought. I accused you of being ashamed of me, not caring about me, and everything in between. Then, finally, after almost four months of us dating, you caved and arranged a lunch at your mom’s house.”
“Do I need to ask how it went?”
“I’m sure you can figure out some parts,” I teased. “It was a good thing we grew up only forty-five minutes from here because I was a nervous wreck as we drove to our hometown. My anxiety was driving you crazy. When we arrived at your parents’, your dad was terrific. He was so warm and welcoming and funny. I adored him immediately.”
“But Mom?”
I frowned. “Karen was a total pill. She muttered snide comment after snide comment. She dug out an old photo album and reminisced about every second of your difficult childhood. Maybe it wasn’t intentional, but your mother made me feel like she blamed me for all your struggles and always would. It was extremely upsetting and hard to keep my emotions to myself. I mustered every stubborn tendency to hide my hurt and control my tongue. While I may have fooled your folks with my saccharine smile, you saw right through my tough girl act.”
“Did I say something to her?”
“No. I wanted you to. I hoped you would. But you didn’t. Which hurt.” I wiped a tear off my cheek. “Little did I know you had something better in mind.”
“I did? What?”
“As soon I finished helping your mom with the dishes, you snaked your arm around my waist, winked at Clara, and said, ‘Come on, girls, let’s go for a walk.’ Since she knew where we were headed, she raced to the door. I was a bit more hesitant. I was worried us dashing off would further infuriate your mom more, but you were pretty insistent. And I was glad. The fresh air did me a world of good. I had so many questions for you and so much I wanted to say, but I remained silent. I didn’t want to say anything derogatory about your mom in front of your daughter.”
“Thanks,” he said automatically. “Where did we go?”
“In your words, the scene of the crime.”
“Huh?”
“The playground—at our old elementary school.”
“How romantic,” he said, and I poked him in the ribs.
“When we got to the park, it was practically empty. You took me by the hand and told Clara to go and play. When she saw you dangling from the monkey bars, with me sitting underneath as directed, she came running back. She called you silly and said you were too big for them, but you ignored her. Instead, you stared at me with this goofy grin.”
I squinted. “Really?”
“Yup. You were wearing shorts, and you caught me looking up, just like I had done when we were kids. Another pang of guilt hit me. Before I could say anything, you asked me if I was still interested in what lurked beneath your Spiderman Underoos.”
We both laughed.
“I said, ‘I think you already know the answer.’ Then you jumped down from the monkey bars and dropped to one knee.”
I untangled myself from his lap and sat next to him. I reached for his hand. I wanted to see his eyes when I told him the rest.
“I was shocked and thrilled, especially when you pulled a diamond ring out of your pocket. You took my shaking hand and placed the ring on my finger. Then you said you knew it was soon, but you didn’t see the point in waiting since we were perfect for each other, just as your fourteen-year-old self always knew. Then you told me the last few months were the happiest of your life and that you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with me as your wife.”
His eyes were as damp as mine.
Was he emotional because of hearing about his grand gesture or due to memories of Caroline?
“I was speechless,” I said. “A few minutes earlier, at your mom's, I doubted our future. And then, boom”—I held out my hand—“I was staring at this ring in disbelief. You never gave me any indication you intended to propose.”
His eyes twinkled. “What fun would it have been for me if you knew what I had up my sleeve, or better put, in my pocket.”
“I guess,” I said. “I asked when you decided to pop the question at the playground, and you said fifteen minutes before. Which confused me. Then you explained that you had been carrying the ring around everywhere for weeks, trying to find the perfect time. When we were at your mom’s place, you said you realized it was foolish to wait longer. You wanted me to know you wanted to be by my side, always.”
“Then you said yes?”
I groaned. “No. I was about to, but I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, which must have registered on my face. You knew exactly what I was about to ask. You cupped my face in your hands. You told me the ring wasn’t Caroline’s—hers was tucked away in a safety deposit box for Clara.
“I was about to ask something else, but you stopped me. You complained that for someone who only needed to answer yes or no, I had a lot of questions. Oh!” I added. “You were still on one knee. You looked so uncomfortable yet content at the same time. I stood and pulled you up with me. I wrapped my arms around your neck and said I might have a lot of questions, but I had only one answer: yes. Then I said I loved you and wanted to experience every up and down life brings with you.” I stared at his lips. “Then I kissed you.”
He looked torn as he said, “Too bad life threw us this curveball.”
I rested my head back down on his lap. It was easier not to look at him when I asked, “Do you think we’ll make it?”
Waverly
forty-three
He didn’t answer my question, but he did do something unexpected.
He snuck his hand underneath my shirt and ran it slowly down the side of my body, electrifying every cell. Except for maybe in the doctor’s office, it was the first time he touched me in a way that didn’t feel brotherly since his accident. His hand settled on my stomach and rested there for a few seconds, probably waiting for our son to kick again. I cherished the sensation.
“Is this too much?” he asked.
My voice quivered with desire. I swear, every nerve ending stirred and tingled. I cuddled in a little closer. “No. It’s not nearly enough.”
“Good.” I could hear the happiness in his voice. “Now, tell me about our baby.”
“You don’t need an explanation.” I snickered. “You were at the edge of your seat in Mr. Philips’s health class, remember?”
He roared with laughter. “So I wasn’t one-hundred-percent invisible to you after all? I was fourteen at the time, so you know who I was thinking about during the entire class.” He ran his hand over my stomach again; unfortunately, it was over my shirt this time.
I placed my hand over his. “We weren’t exactly trying, but we weren’t not trying either. Did you know, besides being a real estate attorney, Lauren is part witch?”
He snorted. “No. That’s news to me.”
“Well, she is.” I looked around the room. “We moved here in steps.”
“What do you mean?”
“About a month after we got engaged, I put my house up for sale and moved into your old house. After the contract was signed on my place, we listed yours and started looking for a home together. Both took a bit more time than expected, but eventually, you found a buyer, and we fell in love with this house. Lauren worked up all the contracts. We hit some unexpected snags with the seller. We must have spent countless hours on the phone and video calls sorting out the documents and legalities.”
“Doesn’t sound like fun. I hate paperwork.”
“I know, which was why you made me handle it all. Sometimes, I come in handy.” If this were the good old days, I’d show him how handy I could be.
Stop thinking those thoughts! All this closeness and reminiscing was sending my hormones into overdrive!
