Melt

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Melt Page 17

by Aarons, Carrie


  And knowing that, I enjoyed mounds of heaping family-style Italian food with some of my lifelines, until my stomach threatened to explode.

  * * *

  “Does the person who helps pick out the ring get a present too? Because I see some earrings over there calling my name.”

  Lila stands next to me at the gleaming glass counter, the sales associate gone to fetch us some rings to look at. The jewelry store I picked is one in the middle of DC, an upscale, elegant place with sleek wood floors and rows and rows of priceless gems. They offered us champagne when we arrived, thinking we were a couple. Lila played it up for one second, but then cringed at trying on rings on her finger. Apparently, that was bad luck and she just couldn’t do it to Samantha.

  “I’ll buy you a candy necklace.” I smile, but bounce on the heels of my boat shoes as the anxiety courses through me.

  “Normally, I’d ask if you were sure you wanted to do this. It’s been only a short amount of time, and I don’t want my Samantha or Lennon hurt. In fact, I’ll skin you alive if you hurt either of them. But, I’ve seen how you are with them this weekend, and how they are with you. You’re all really good together. I wouldn’t be here helping if I didn’t think so. So relax, Jake.”

  Lila lays a hand over mine, and I notice I’m leaving sweat marks on the glass. “I don’t even know what to look for. Shit, should I have looked at one of her Pinterest boards or whatever?”

  She slants her eyes at me. “Do you really think Samantha is the type of girl who has a Pinterest board, much less time for one?”

  “Yeah, okay, you’re right. I just … I know she’s probably thought about the perfect situation for all of this, and I want to do it right.”

  The sales woman is making her way back, but Lila scoffs. “I think Samantha used to dream about a wedding or fairy tale because she had the wrong guy next to her. It was nicer than facing the reality that she’d never have it with Derek. Harsh but true. With you, it won’t matter if you pull that rock out of a paper lunch bag. She loves you in a way I’ve never seen her love before. You’re the fairy tale, and the rest will just fall into place. Now let’s look at some bling before you make me vomit on the sweet shit that’s coming out of my mouth.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Deal. Just don’t pick an ugly one, because I’ll blame it on you if she hates it.”

  We look at the velvet jewelry cases set out before us, thousands of dollars sitting out on that counter. Square diamonds and round ones, yellow ones that I don’t really like, bands with a lot of jewels and those with none. Gold and silver, thick and thin, ornate and simple.

  “I’ve got to be honest, I’m completely lost.” I fist a hand in my hair.

  I feel like women should just constantly have a running Christmas list with anything they’ll ever want to have on there. I’m not a chick, I don’t read minds. One purse looks the same as another to me. And I definitely have no taste in jewelry.

  “Okay, calm down. Gold is out, as are any other color diamonds but traditional. And she likes a round diamond, so that narrows us down.” Lila shoos away some rings with her hand and the woman removes them from the bunch.

  We’re left with about eight, and my eyes automatically go to one in particular. It’s unique, a little different from the others, and unlike any I’ve seen on another woman’s finger. Not that I check much.

  But it’s solely Samantha. Unique, not round but not square … never fitting a stereotype or role. It flourishes in a bunch of ordinary, and at the end of the day is always the brightest thing in the room. This ring is her, and I want to make her mine.

  “That one. That’s it.”

  Thirty-Five

  Samantha

  Jake was wedged into Lennon’s twin bed, her curled up into him was the cutest thing I’d ever seen.

  “And then the princess let down her hair, and he climbed right up! But the bad bear stood at the bottom, growling as he said, ‘I will get you!’”

  He did a voice for each character and was much better at story time than I’d ever been. Case in point, Lennon only asked for him now when it was time to get in bed. She told me it was because, “Jake better at stories, Mommy,” while she’d gently patted me on the arm. I’ll admit I’d teared up then, partly because she wanted someone else besides me, but also because she seemed to be growing up in front of my eyes.

  “Get away, you mongrel!” Jake made a swishing sword noise and pretended to be Prince Charming, fighting off the bear.

  He looked to her for a reaction, but little miss was already yawning, her eyes closed and her hand twirling in a curl.

  I stand in the doorway, watching as he puts a finger to his lips and scoots out of the bed as if he might just wake the sleeping dragon. I have to put my hand over my mouth to not let the laughter out as he crosses the room on his tiptoes as if the rug was made of hot lava. Together, we look back on her, sunken down into her pillows now, and turn off the light.

  “I swear, every time I accomplish putting her to bed, I feel like I’ve run twenty-six point two miles. We will never in our life have to run a marathon, because we have a kid.”

  His use of the word we made butterflies swirl in my stomach. Why was the best thing in the world a goofy leftovers dinner in my apartment with my boyfriend and daughter? There was one time in my life where expensive shoes and traveling the world would have been my biggest goals. Now? I was sublimely happy with cold Chinese and a Bloodline binge on the couch.

  “Wait for Christmas season. You’ll feel like you did an Iron Man.” I sat down on the couch, stretching my legs out and trying to fight off the Sunday Scaries. “Do we have to go back to work tomorrow?”

  Jake sat beside me, taking my feet in his lap and massaging them. “Yes, we do. But maybe if you’re lucky I’ll swing by with a surprise at lunchtime.”

  Three times this month, Jake had swung by with lunch. I was beginning to get spoiled, and fat. I guess that wasn’t to be helped if your boyfriend was a dessert chef and had connections at all of the best restaurants in town.

  He set my feet down, and was fiddling with something in his pocket that he couldn’t seem to get out.

  “Do you really need to check your phone right now? Aren’t the Nationals on rain delay?” I whine, mostly because the foot rub felt good and I didn’t want him to stop.

  He then got down on the floor, and I was even more annoyed thinking he dropped the damn device. He fumbled for a minute, and I laid my head back, reveling in the silence with Lennon asleep.

  “Babe, can we just massage my legs more?” I kicked said legs out, whining more.

  “I was going to wait until tomorrow at lunch to do this, with the truck all dressed up and ice cream spelling out the words or something. But this thing has been burning a hole in my pocket all night, and I don’t want to wait another second.”

  I look back up, having no clue what this man is talking about, and my heart catches in my throat.

  There, on the living room floor, kneels Jake. With a small box in his hand, opened up to reveal a sparkling diamond ring.

  “Samantha, will you marry me?” His voice is so hopeful, his green eyes shining up at me.

  “Are you fucking crazy?” The words pop out before I can control them.

  He shakes his head, laughing. “I’ve been told at times I can be, but in all honesty, I’ve never been more sane than in this moment.”

  “It’s crazy, Jake! We’ve only been dating for a few months!” My head spun as I looked at the ring.

  He stayed on one knee, the sound of Lennon’s ballerina music box tinkling in the background.

  “Samantha, you waited years before. You told me you never thought you were enough, that there was something wrong with you because he wouldn’t commit. Well here I am, telling you that I am so serious about you and I, and that little girl, that I want in forever. It doesn’t matter if I’ve known you five years or five minutes, you are it for me. I want to make us a family, and I’m telling you that for me, you a
re always enough. More than enough. So marry me. Live your life with me. Live our lives together. Give that beautiful girl a bunch of brothers and sisters. We can get a dog if you want, or gerbils. Hell, I don’t care. Just say yes.”

  I can taste the saltiness of my tears as I hiccup, love and overwhelming emotion swamping my heart and mind. We may have been together only a few short months, but he was right. This was so different than any relationship I’d ever been in. He was steady, caring, committed, loved Lennon. And I was in love with him, every quirky, annoying, workaholic part of him. Jake was the first person I wanted to tell about my day, he was the one I wanted to look at across the dinner table. I’d waited so long last time for validation, that it felt insane to get it so quickly now. But … when I’d moved here I had vowed to be open to whatever life had in store for us. And it turned out, love and Jake were it.

  “Yes … yes, Jake, I will marry you,” I whisper it, the words feeling too grand to be said fully.

  He hops up off his knee, catching me in a hug and lifting me off my feet. The living room whirls in my vision, and I’m caught in a stir of emotions that I can’t place words to. Everything inside of me feels overwhelmingly happy … it’s akin to the first time I ever held Lennon in my arms.

  Looking down my arm as Jake kisses my cheeks, I catch the flash of the ring.

  And it is gorgeous. Not that that’s the most important part of this moment, but a good ring is always something to be appreciated. It’s a simple, thin silver band topped with an oval diamond surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds. It glints even in the dim light of the living room, and my girly heart falls in love with it instantly. Even though I’d thought so much about getting engaged in the past, I’d truly never thought of what kind of ring I’d like.

  “How did you pick it out? It’s perfect, baby.”

  “You didn’t think Lila was just in town to hang out with you, did you?” My eyes skim down to his lips, which are parted in a mischievous smile.

  “Are you kidding me?! That little sneak.” I couldn’t believe it.

  We’d had a great long weekend together, and in the background, she’d known that Jake was about to ask me to marry him the whole time. Shit, I had a great best friend.

  “Thank you for not doing some big thing like flying me up in a hot air balloon.”

  “I was thinking of riding in on an elephant to your parking lot at work, but then thought better.” That dimple pops out.

  “This was perfect, just us. How it always should be.” I look at the ring again, shocked at how beautiful it is, and that there is that significant piece of jewelry sitting on my left hand.

  “Should we wake Lennon up?” His hands move up under my shirt, finding my bare skin.

  I nuzzle into his neck. “That depends, did you want sex or not? Because you know that if we wake the sleeping beast, you’ll have no alone time with me tonight.”

  “In that case, let me introduce you to my sleeping beast.” He takes my left hand, the one with the large rock on the fourth finger, and puts it over his sweatpants where he is growing.

  “My fiancé is so corny.” I swish the word around in my mouth, testing it like every new engaged girl imagined she would.

  “Say it again.” Jake moves over me, my body molding to his as he leans me back into the couch.

  “Fiancé,” I whispered in my best phone sex voice.

  “Oh yeah, baby …” He smiles and shakes his head as if I’m turning him on so much by uttering the word. “Now come here and let me finish that proposal. Because I can make it so much sweeter.”

  Epilogue

  Jake

  One Year Later

  “I thought we said we’d talk about getting a different mattress.” I shift my weight, groaning as I threw an arm over Samantha.

  “Nope, this one is perfect. Pillowy softness.” She grins as she melts into me, kissing my stubbly morning cheek.

  “It’s like laying on a bunch of pillows. A mattress should be firm, have a backbone like hardwood.” I grunt, thrusting my hips against her, my cock pressing to her thigh.

  “Honey, what’s mine is yours, and marriage is all about compromise. Or at least, it will be starting today.”

  “It’s wedding day!” Lennon ran into our room, launching herself at the bed and giggling as she snuggled herself between us. I scooted over, making sure to cover my nether regions with a pillow, even as I felt myself shrink. It was amazing what kids could do to the libido.

  She ran her hands over Samantha’s face, mussing up her hair in a way that she must have thought looked pretty, but really made my fiancée look like a witch.

  “Are you ready for your flower girl duties?” Samantha kissed Lennon’s cheek and wrestled her down, pinning her arms so she couldn’t mess up her long dark locks any more.

  “I have my basket all ready. I practiced last night with Dad.”

  My heart absolutely puddled at my feet. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was lying in a mushy pool on the floor at the edge of the bed. For the last six months, ever since Lennon had really grasped that we were all officially going to become a family, she’d been calling me Dad. Never Daddy, that was the name she used for Derek, but I was so honored to hold that title in her life.

  “You’ll be so pretty.” I kiss her forehead as she snuggles between Samantha and me.

  Over the past year, we’ve become even more of a family than I even knew was possible. Growing up in a family like mine, we weren’t necessarily close. Competition and business ruled the roost there, and they had ever since. But Samantha, Lennon and I … we did everything together. They supported me on late nights when the restaurant was crazy, and I’d drop from exhaustion the minute I got home. I picked up Lennon from daycare and made dinner, carried the laundry downstairs to the basement of the building when we needed to do it. Family movie nights on Friday were a thing of tradition now, and Samantha and I typically had date night once a week. On weekend mornings, Lennon came to the restaurant with me and brought customers in. She was probably single-handedly responsible for half the business that walked inside the place; her cute little diatribes near the front door always drew people in.

  We burned dinner together, and then ordered pizza. We went on walks around the city blocks that made our feet tired and ended up with Lennon sleeping on my shoulder. Apartment hunting for a place that was big enough for three of us was a trip, with Samantha’s checklist and mine clashing so much that we ended up learning a lot about each other. Lennon begged us for a puppy every other week, and I think that my soon-to-be wife was starting to break. Each one of us fought for the last Magnum bar in the freezer … Samantha always won. We celebrated birthdays, slept in on the weekends when we could, and for the first time last year I’d had a real Christmas tree. Samantha had insisted, it wasn’t the holiday without one.

  Our new place between my office building and Samantha’s was a two bedroom, with an extra bathroom than either of us had had before, and a larger kitchen. It also boasted a patio, which we made full use of almost year round … even when we had to throw gloves and coats on.

  In our apartment, it was business as usual. I manned the scrambled eggs, Lennon helped with juice duty, and Samantha sat at the table reading The New York Times. We gave her weekend mornings off, calling our little breakfast act, “the toastsome twosome.” If it weren’t for the butterflies in my stomach, and the fluffy white dress hanging in the closet in our bedroom, you wouldn’t know that we were about to say some vows and exchange some rings today.

  After she’s done eating, I look over to where Lennon is sitting on the living room floor, taking off her Barbie’s pants again.

  “Lennon, leave those on.” What was with this little girl wanting her dolls to be nudists? “And yes, after the wedding I made you a special ice cream cake.”

  It was my first foray into cakes, and I’d insisted on making our wedding cake. I pat myself on the back, because this cake was fucking gorgeous. I was going to have Alice post pictures of
it on the company Instagram and see what response we got. We could make some big bucks if I started doing cakes to order.

  “I can have three pieces!” She claps.

  “Oh yeah, who said that?” Samantha makes a sarcastic, shocked expression at me.

  “I did. Grandma said so too.”

  “That Grandma spoils you, huh?” I finish my coffee and lace my fingers through Samantha’s. “You ready to get married to me?”

  “That depends … do I get that foot rub I was promised?” She props her feet up on my lap, her toes a light pink.

  Is it weird that even her feet are sexy to me? Because I swear, I’m sporting a semi.

  “I think I’m like your foot rub slave for the rest of my life. Isn’t that what marriage means?”

  She nodded, her face pointed toward the ceiling as I rubbed her insoles. “Pretty much.”

  “Should we go become the Brady bunch?” It was time to get moving if we were going to make our own ceremony.

  Samantha shudders. “Oh God, please don’t start that again.”

  I start to hum the theme song to the popular TV show. I’d been joking about it since we’d gotten engaged, knowing that she hated when I called us that.

  “I’m not walking down that aisle if you keep doing that.” She leaned over, slapping her hand over my mouth.

  Little did she know that I’d already made it our official wedding hashtag and told the short number on the guest list about it.

  Oh well, she’d have to live with it. She’d have to live with me. That was marriage. Taking the annoying with the amazing. And I was definitely getting the best of both worlds.

  Sometimes I thought to myself, how did I get so lucky? But really, I think I’d charmed or tricked them into picking me. I was fine with that, as long as it meant I got to come home to those two at the end of the day.

 

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