I leaned back on the counter, only vaguely realizing the jellyfish sting didn’t hurt anymore. “Guess so. Might depend on what they decide, though.”
“They love each other, Lane. That’s obvious. But they stopped talking. People change. What we want changes. If we stop sharing who we are along the way, how’s the other person supposed to know?”
“They can’t?”
“Bingo.” He tipped the lid of the rice to the side and peered inside before turning off the heat underneath it. “Honestly, I don’t know if they’ll be fine. I hope so, and I think they’re both willing to try, so I have a good feeling about it. But the only thing you can do now is tell them you love them, and then let them do what they need to do.”
“When did you get to be so knowledgeable about relationships?”
“This afternoon. When I thought your dad was going to murder me, I had a second to think about stuff.” He chuckled and faced me. “You really want to know?” He waited for me to nod. “Because, for the last year, I’ve spent every waking moment thanking the universe for the one I have.”
We kissed. Two lips meeting two lips. Something simple that meant so much.
We separated when we heard someone clear their throat.
“You kids mind if we skip dinner?” my dad asked. “I’d like to take your mother somewhere.”
“Where?” I asked.
I regretted the question as soon as I saw the blush on my mom’s cheeks. Oh God, what if he was taking her to a sex shop or something? Please don’t answer. Please don’t answer. Please don’t answer.
“You want to tell them or should I?” My dad nudged her.
“We’re going to the art store.”
If art store had another meaning, I didn’t want to know.
Thankfully, my mom clarified, and not in the way I dreaded.
“I’m going to start painting again.”
“You’ve inspired your mother, Laney. She wants to be an artist again.”
I squealed and ran to her for a hug. “That’s awesome, Mom!”
She spoke into my ear. “You were right. I forgot how much I needed it. I’ll never be me without it.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I whispered. When we pulled apart, I saw my dad shaking Carson’s hand.
“You might want to grab something to eat while you’re out,” Carson was saying. “I don’t think I can scrape enough charcoal off these for four of us.”
“Next time you come to visit, let’s plan on actually making it to the boat.”
“As long as you promise to bring me back alive, you’re on.”
We followed them into the living room where they gathered their stuff.
“Bill?” Carson asked. “Does this mean you think I’m good enough for your daughter?”
My dad took a deep breath, pondering his answer. Just that much of a delay set us all on edge.
“Does it really matter what I think?” he asked eventually. “Okay, if you really want to know what I think, here it is…” He cleared his throat. “I never thought it was possible for anyone to want our daughter to be as happy as we do and love her as much as we do. You proved me wrong, son. You proved me wrong.”
34
Carson
After Lane’s parents went out, she and I spent the rest of the evening watching repeats of The Big Bang Theory. It gave both of us an escape and Lane a chance to process what had gone down with her folks. As much as I wanted to press her to talk about it, I didn’t.
By the time Bill and Jane got back around ten o’clock, Lane was fast asleep, her legs tucked up on the couch and her head on my lap.
“It’s after ten o’clock. On a school night.” I chose to go with a parental-sounding stern yet quiet tone, so I wouldn’t wake up my girl. “Where have you two been?”
“The art store,” Jane answered guiltily.
“Sure you were.” Nobody winked, but we were all aware that art stores didn’t stay open until ten. Any details beyond that, I didn’t want to know.
Too bad Lane missed seeing the smiles on their faces, the way they looked at each other as they tiptoed into their bedroom…together. Okay, she was probably better off not seeing that part, but she’d find out tomorrow. Our flight home didn’t leave until noon.
I slipped out from under her and carried her to bed. I’d have loved to bring her to my room, to know I’d wake up next to her, but that would’ve been against house rules. Even if her parents wouldn’t care anymore, Lane would. And that was what mattered. So I carefully set her down on her bed and flipped the ends of the comforter up around her until she looked like a green and blue striped burrito.
A few minutes later, I made my way to the guest room, desperately trying not to hear any noise from her parent’s room.
As soon as I got into bed, I grabbed the book of fairytales, hoping they’d put me to sleep. They did.
* * *
I woke up at nine-something, put on clothing this time, and wandered toward the voices.
Jane and Bill looked up from their breakfasts to say, “Good morning.”
“Would you like some coffee?” Jane asked, scooting her chair back.
“More than world peace at the moment, yeah. But I’ll get it.” I took the biggest mug they had out of the cupboard.
It said, “Often the most difficult roads lead to the most beautiful destinations.”
And all the other times, they lead to cliffs, or bars, or bad decision making.
“Where’s Lane?”
“She’s in her room on the phone, just like when she was a teenager. You know her friend Hillary, don’t you?”
“Yep.” Better than I wished I did. I peeked under the Tupperware cloche covering a plate on the counter. Two slices of bacon, scrambled eggs, and a slice of toast. “Is this spoken for?”
Jane shook her head. “It’s all yours. I learned my lesson yesterday, but if it’s not enough—”
“It’s perfect. You’re a great mom.” I shoved a slice of bacon into my mouth and brought the plate to the table. “So how was it, going back to the art store again after all this time away?”
I regretted the question as soon as I saw Jane blush.
“It was perfect, Carson,” Bill said. “Thank you.”
I’d like to think I had nothing to do with the art store or anything else they might have done last night. But if I asked why he just thanked me, I was afraid I’d get more information about them than I really wanted to know.
“Cool.”
As soon as I started eating, they both stood and brought their dishes to the sink.
“We’re going to go get ready. Flight leaves at noon, right?”
I nodded.
“Then we’ll need to leave pretty soon or you won’t get through security in time.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave.
Not sure how long it took other people to take off their belt and shoes, but I didn’t need two hours. In fact, I could get Lane naked and ready for a strip search in less than a minute. But I didn’t argue—as much as I liked this place and these people, I couldn’t wait to get home.
“Thanks again, Carson,” Jane said as they left.
“You’re welcome?”
I couldn’t hear individual words, but I recognized Lane’s voice coming from the hallway. Since she was already smiling when she saw me, I figured she’d spoken to her parents while I was still asleep.
“I don’t know what you said to my father yesterday, but it worked.” She scooted a chair closer to mine and sat down. “Growing up, I never saw them unhappy, so I assumed they were happy. But it’s pretty obvious now, isn’t it? So, whatever it was, thank you.”
I shrugged as she leaned in and kissed me. “I have a lot of bad karma to make up for.”
When she pulled away a second later, I put my hand at the nape of her neck to stop her from getting too far. “I saved the day, remember? So I hope you weren’t expecting me to be content with our lips touching.”
“Fi
ne.” Her smile negated the eye roll she gave me. “But only because you saved the day.”
I’m not sure how long we kissed. All I know is that I didn’t give a shit if Jane or Bill or all the high school band kids came in—I wasn’t going to let Lane go.
Until I heard the clink of dishes and remembered my breakfast.
“Get away from me, woman.” I jokingly shoved her away and grabbed my fork. “I need to eat this before it gets cold.”
“You’re not doing anything at the end of May, are you?” She stole a piece of my toast and took a bite. Brave woman.
“Well, I have some showers planned... with soap. Probably some drinking. Definitely some eating and making love to you… and some eating while making love to you. Why?”
“Hillary and Eric just set a date for their wedding.”
“Oh, goody.” Yeah, that response didn’t even sound a little bit excited.
“I know what you mean.” She slumped back into her chair, taking the coffee cup out of my hand and gulping down a third of it. “Honestly, I’m so sick of everything to do with marriage—the beginnings of them and the fear of them ending. Why does everything have to be so dramatic?”
I took the cup back before she finished it. “Chicks dig drama, especially wedding drama.”
“Not me. I don’t want any of that. All I want is you and me, a couple friends, and maybe some music.”
It was the first time she’d ever actually said what she wanted, other than during the makeup sex. And I’d learned not to believe anything anyone said during sex—her or me. But it did give me an idea.
* * *
Before we left for the airport, I pulled her mom into the guest room. “Jane, could I talk to you about something?”
“I think you’ve earned the right to talk to me about anything, Carson.” She waited for me to speak. Then she gave up because it was taking me too damn long to figure out how to start. “Is it about your mother?”
“Definitely not. I promised Lane I wouldn’t curse in front of you, so that makes talking about Renee impossible. Plus, I like you too much to subject you to anything I could say about her. I was just… um… wondering if you might be able to make it up to San Francisco the week after next. You and Bill. I’d be happy to get you tickets.”
“We’d love to. But why so soon?”
“The reveal of the lobby installation Lane was contracted to do is in ten days. If you stayed the whole weekend, we could show you some of the city.”
“We’d love to, Carson.” She put her hand on my arm. “Thank you for inviting us.”
“Lane would want you to be there. And… I’d like you to be there too.” I’d spent my life hating the idea of mothers, but not anymore. First of all, I couldn’t wait to help make Lane be one. Aside from the fun of the initial set-up, I wanted to know the little person who grew inside her, who’d have a childhood so different from mine. Who’d have an awesome mom, one fantastic grandma, and supervised visits with the other.
He’d—yes, still hoping for a boy, at least until I could handle a girl—have a good life. Because no matter how badly I screwed up, he’d still have a good male role model in Uncle Hayden. And his Aunt Andi could teach him what every kid should know, like how to hide porn on his computer when he hit puberty.
“I’d also like to surprise her with something,” I said, running a hand through my hair, “but I’m still not exactly sure the best way…”
“To ask her?” Jane said smiling. How did she know?
“Yeah,” I grumbled. “I wanted to give her the whole fairytale happy ending, but I’m not a fairytale kind of guy.”
“What brought you two together, Carson?”
“Um…” A bad pickup line? The best first kiss ever? My self-sacrificing offer to fuck her without any strings attached? “I was kind of a jerk actually. But for some reason, she kept me around.”
“Laney has never needed anyone to save her. She fell in love with you because she knew you were a good man. The man she needed—warts and all.”
“Whoa, now.” I put up both hands in submission, one hand in front of my mouth to hide my smile. “I don’t know what she told you, but I’ve never had—
“Oh.” I felt the truth hit me, what I’d been missing this whole time. Lane didn’t need an extravagant, YouTube-worthy proposal. She could’ve gotten that from anyone. The reason she was with me was because I wasn’t like all the other guys she’d dated. I never pretended to be a prince or a hero. I wasn’t anything until I met her.
I looked around the room until I saw the book I’d been reading myself to sleep with. “Can I borrow this?”
As confused as she looked, Jane didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
I grabbed it and flopped onto the foot of the bed, flipping through pages until I found it.
Jane sat next to me and read over my shoulder. “The Frog Prince?”
“Yep,” I whispered.
The Frog Prince.
Our story.
35
Carson
It had been nine days since we’d said goodbye to Lane’s parents in San Diego. Nine days of Lane obsessing over every splinter of wood, every brush of urethane. Nine days of falling asleep before she’d come to bed and waking up after she’d already left.
Nine miserable days of seeing her so stressed out the only way I could get her to stop pacing was to pin her to the bed with my body.
Okay, that was a good afternoon.
But the rest were hell.
Her parents would be flying in later tonight. Maybe I’d get to play tour guide for the full day tomorrow so Lane could get in a little more panicking before her event started.
Obviously, this would be the best time to pile another stressor on top of everything else. And get it done in the twenty minutes between when Lane took an Uber from the building downtown to her shop, grabbed some emergency wax and rags and wood stuff, and came back here in the Uber.
I would’ve offered to go for her so she could stay here and micromanage the set-up of her tables and benches. But I had a stupid plan to execute. Plus Lane knew I would’ve grabbed the wrong stuff no matter how good her instructions were.
As soon as the door closed behind her, I grabbed my bag, ducked and weaved through her lily pad tables, and headed straight for the infinity fountain at the far end of the lobby.
A stone ledge defined the perimeter of the fountain with a five-inch wide moat running next to it all the way around. The water looked like it was topped with a huge sheet of glass right up to the very edge. From there, a tiny amount spilled over, forming a continuous waterfall that rained down into the moat and was pumped back up into the fountain—the infinity part of the infinity fountain.
I took the four-inch golden ball out of the hidden pocket in my bag and unwrapped it. It had to be rushed and custom made because, shockingly, not many people needed a watertight ball covered in sealed gold leaf that could also hold an engagement ring inside it. Well, not many people who hired the only guy I’d found in the city who could do it. I’m sure there was a big demand for them on the East Coast though.
Problem I should have anticipated number one: I didn’t know how deep the water was. To get to it, I had to step up about a foot, and the ledge came up to around my knees. So the fountain could be knee deep, knee-plus-step deep, or abyss-deep for all I knew.
Problem number two: The guy had made the ball heavy enough to stay on the bottom of the fountain. So if I chucked it into the water, it might plummet to the bottom, crack open like an egg, and Lane’s fancy ring would end up being nothing more than a very valuable shiny thing she could make a wish on. Until someone stole it.
With only about fifteen more minutes to get this done, I walked around the fountain, looking for a pole or floaties or—
“Net!” Perfect. A pool net with an extendable metal pole was leaning up against a tall supply closet decorated to look like vegetation, at the least-accessible end of the fountain.
I took it back t
o where I’d left my stuff, carefully set the ball into the net, and slowly lowered it into the water. I turned it over and shook the ball out about ten feet away from the ledge, where Lane would be able to see it when I casually brought her over here after the party.
Then I put the net back right where I’d found it and spent the next few minutes staring into the water, hoping this plan was “us” enough.
* * *
When Lane got back from her errand, I was hyperventilating in a corner. Luckily she was too preoccupied and tired to really notice.
Deep breaths. I could do this. Probably. Oh shit, what had I done? A golden fucking ball like in The Frog Prince? That was my great idea? It was worse than the last idea I thought was the worst ever. What I needed to do now was come up with a good idea to get out of this.
Okay. I’d wait until she was asleep tonight, then sneak back here and tell the security guard it was an emergency and I had to get inside the building.
What was the emergency? Well, sir, I accidentally left my golden ball in the infinity fountain and needed to get it. Yep, in the middle of the night.
Uh… no.
Okay, start over. I could get Hayden to distract her by—
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lane said, looking down into the water. Oh, crap.
“Hey, babe!” I called back, pointing toward the other side of the lobby. “I think someone needs you to do something.” Not a lie—I needed her to get the hell away from where she was before she saw my ball.
“Be there in a second. But first, I need your help, Carson. Some asshole tossed something in the fountain.”
Not some asshole. Me. I was the asshole.
Yeah, it would be a total fail to let someone else fish the golden ball out, but you can’t blame a guy for dreaming. I’d hoped Lane would have gotten it out herself, opened it, had a chance to weigh her options, and then come find me when she had an answer. Preferably a “Yes” answer.
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