The Truth About Ever After

by Rachel Schurig

  Once we were back in the car, Eric pulled out his phone. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling into work for the rest of the day,” he said. “No way am I leaving you now.”

  I leaned back into my seat, feeling even happier than I had this morning. How was that possible?

  “Let’s go to Greenfield Village,” he said suddenly, turning to me with an excited look on his face. “We haven’t done that in ages.”

  “Greenfield Village, eh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “How very sentimental of you.”

  He just grinned at me and put the car into gear. “Greenfield Village it is.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The day that Eric proposed was, up until that point, the best day of my life.

  It started off just like any other normal Tuesday. I overslept, which meant my morning consisted of frantic running around, trying to find an outfit and get my makeup done. By the time I made it downstairs, both of my parents had already left the house. I grabbed a muffin from the counter, filled up my thermos with coffee, and managed to get out the door only five minutes later than normal.

  But I never made it to my car. Because standing on my front porch was Eric, holding a single daisy in one hand and a large white envelope in the other.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, immediately breaking into a smile. It had been a mere eight hours since I had seen him last, and already I missed him. I truly had it bad for this man.

  “Got a surprise for you,” he said, returning my grin.

  “Sweetie, it’s not exactly the best time,” I said, looking down at my watch and feeling disappointed. I loved surprises. “I’m running late already—”

  “You’re not going to work today,” Eric interrupted, his grin growing larger. “You’re playing hooky.”

  “I can’t—”

  “Sure you can. I talked to your boss, who happens to be a close friend.” He winked at me and I giggled. My boss, of course, being my dad. “We’re all set to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “You tell me.” Eric handed me the envelope. “You’re in charge here; I’m just the driver.”

  I took the envelope, giving him a questioning look. Beneath my confusion, I was feeling the beginning stirrings of excitement. What game was this?

  “Open the envelope,” he urged.

  I ripped into the heavy paper and found a single typed page. Go to the place where we first shared breakfast. There you will find your next clue.

  “What is this?” I asked, grinning at him.

  “A game,” he said, smiling back.

  “Like a scavenger hunt?”

  “Yup. Just like a scavenger hunt. Wanna play?”

  I felt excitement bubble up inside me. This was so unlike Eric, to plan something like this. Not that he was boring or anything like that. But he was usually so much more laid back, a go-along-for-the-ride kind of guy.

  It’s for you, I realized. He knows you’ll like it, whether it’s his kind of thing or not. The realization made my heart beat faster. I loved him so much.

  “Of course!” I said, reaching out to take his hand. “Of course I want to play. Let’s go!”

  We climbed into Eric’s truck and he pulled out of the driveway, heading toward the highway. I smelled my daisy, feeling happy and excited. On one of our earliest dates I had mentioned to Eric that daisies were my favorite flower. I had woken up the next morning to a massive bouquet of them delivered to the house. He had always remembered how much I loved daisies.

  “So tell me where to go,” Eric said. “You’re in charge. Did you figure it out?”

  “Of course,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I know exactly where to go. The diner on Eleven Mile, in Royal Oak.”

  He turned to me briefly and smiled, before directing his attention to the road. “If you say so.”

  It only took us about fifteen minutes to reach the diner. It was a smallish place, with a very dedicated clientele. The parking lot was completely packed with the breakfast crowd. I assumed we would have to wait for a table to open up, but the hostess smiled at us the moment we walked in and led us to a booth. As Eric took my jacket I noticed a little sign on the table. Reserved. In the center of the table was a small vase containing a single daisy.

  “You made reservations?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at Eric. “At a diner? I didn’t think a place like this even took reservations.”

  “Special exception,” he said, sliding into the booth across from me. “Just for you. That flower’s yours, by the way.”

  I knew I was grinning like an idiot, but I just couldn’t help myself. This had to be one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. And who knew what would come next?

  “What are you having?” I asked Eric, looking around for a menu.

  “I actually ordered already,” he said, a little sheepishly. “Hope you don’t mind.” I looked at him quizzically. “Trust me,” he continued. I decided to drop it and go with the flow. To be honest, I felt way too excited to eat anyhow.

  A moment later the waitress arrived with our plates. Eric had ordered us each a heaping serving of pancakes with sides of bacon and two hot chocolates. I looked at him in surprise.

  “How did you remember this?” I asked, feeling touched.

  “It was a pretty big day for me,” Eric said, looking me straight in the eyes.

  The first time we had been to this diner together, the first time we’d ever had breakfast together, in fact, we had shared this exact same meal. It hadn’t been the happiest of occasions, though, and I wondered why it had made such an impression on him.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You eat,” Eric said, pointing at my plate. “I’ll talk.”

  I took a big bite of my pancakes and groaned a little. They were delicious.

  “The morning that we came here,” Eric said, “was the first time I realized that I liked you. That I really liked you, and wanted to get to know you. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that morning.”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded. He had never told me this before.

  “I take it you didn’t notice?” he asked. I shook my head. “That doesn’t surprise me. You were too busy taking care of Matt.”

  Eric and I had first come here after a heavy night of drinking with his brother. It was sophomore year, long before we had started dating. In fact, I was still under the impression that he couldn’t stand me back then. But Matt had been through a terrible few months. He had been injured over the summer in a minor league game, effectively ending his hockey career. As if that wasn’t enough, his stupid fiancé, Emily, had unceremoniously dumped him only days before. After he was no longer a pro-athlete candidate, she decided she must not have really loved him. Stupid gold-digging skank.

  Eric had told me all of this when I ran into him at the student center. He was on his way home to spend the weekend with his brother, and I insisted on coming along to help get Matt’s mind off of things. The three of us had ended up in some crap dive bar, Matt getting steadily drunker until the place shut down. We had then moved on to his apartment, where he and Eric shared a bottle of whiskey and I did my best to make sure neither of them puked on the carpet.

  Eventually I had brought them here, hoping that pancakes would serve as a hangover remedy. Matt had been pretty far gone by then, and I had quite a job of making sure he didn’t fall asleep at the table.

  “You were so awesome with him,” Eric said now, watching my face. “It floored me, because it was different from what I expected. But I could tell you really cared about him, that you were a really loyal friend.”

  “And not just some ditz?” I asked, winking at him.

  “As far from ditzy as possible,” he said firmly. “It made me see you in a new light. I realized I had been judging you. Sorry about that, by the way.”

  I laughed. “You’re forgiven. Seeing as how it was years ago.”

  “Yeah, well, this diner always brings back hap
py memories. If it wasn’t for those four a.m. pancakes, I might not ever have fallen in love with you.”

  “You know, Eric Thompson, you can be really romantic when you want to be,” I said, reaching over to take his hand.

  We finished our meal at a leisurely pace, reminiscing about our pre-dating days. I admitted to him that I thought it was love at first sight when we met, but he had ruined that with his comments to Matt. We both laughed at how silly we had been and he told me he was relieved it didn’t take him long to see the light. When it was finally time to pay, the waitress brought Eric the bill—and another white envelope to me.

  You’ve taught me many things over the years, but this is one skill that’s kept me from going under.

  I frowned as I looked up. This one was not as obvious as the first.

  “Ah, now I got you. I was hoping you wouldn’t figure them all out as quickly as the breakfast one.”

  “Skills I’ve taught you,” I muttered, looking at the clue again. “Skills… hmmm.”

  “You think about it, I’ll pay the bill,” Eric said, standing up. I stared at the paper, trying to concentrate. What skills had I taught him? Kept me from going under… I grinned as it hit me. When Eric came back to the table I was already standing and putting on my coat.

  “Did you get it?”

  “Duh,” I said teasingly. “You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to stump me, mister.”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Eric pulled his truck into the lot at the Lakeshore Boat Club. I was so excited I could barely sit still in the car. “I knew it!” I said, clapping my hands. “We’re going sailing!”

  “You got it,” Eric said, leaning over to give me a quick kiss before jumping out of the car. He came around to my side to open my door for me, a chivalrous act that I secretly loved, though I was forever telling him he didn’t have to bother.

  The day was warm and sunny, perfect for a morning out on the water. I wondered where Eric had gotten the boat from but I didn’t have to guess for long. Standing at the end of the dock was my dad’s personal assistant, Bernie. Behind him, my father’s sloop was tied up, waiting for us.

  “Good morning, Miss Barker, Mr. Thompson. She’s all ready to go for you.”

  I looked at Eric in amazement. “Your dad lent us his boat,” he said. “He said if we didn’t return it in one piece, we would both be working in the kitchen at one of his hotels for the rest of our lives.”

  I laughed, beyond shocked that Eric had made this happen. My dad was notoriously protective of this boat. In my entire life he had never let me take it out without him.

  I thanked Bernie for getting the boat ready for us and climbed aboard, Eric behind me. Bernie and Eric untied the boat and we were on our way.

  I climbed in and immediately got to work, feeling the beginnings of the thrill which always accompanied sailing. Eric paused on his way to get into position, grinning at me. “You ready?” he asked.

  “Hell yeah,” I replied.

  Eric leaned down and kissed me hard on the mouth. His intensity took my breath away. “I love you, Kiki.”

  It was a perfect day for sailing, with a good, strong wind. We ran the boat up and down the shoreline of Lake St. Clair for a good three hours before we finally brought her in. I felt like I could have stayed out all day. I had been sailing my whole life, and had gotten Eric hooked on it soon after we started dating. For ages Eric and I had talked about renting something bigger out on the Atlantic and taking a trip down the east coast. Maybe someday we’d even own our own boat. I blushed a little at the thought, glad Eric couldn’t read my mind. I was sure he’d tease me for jumping the gun.

  Back at the dock, Bernie handed me another envelope and another daisy. I was beginning to build up quite a bouquet. The next clue was even more enigmatic than the last. Thousands of kisses all started with one.

  “Did I stump you?” Eric asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, thinking it over. “Can you give me a minute?”

  “Kiki,” he said, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me close, “we have all the time in the world.”

  ***

  It turned out the clue referred to a park in Birmingham, the place where Eric and I’d had our first kiss. After we had revisited that encounter, I received my next envelope and clue, which directed us to a favorite restaurant downtown; the site of our first official date. After lunch I received my last clue. I couldn’t help but feel a little sad that the game was almost over.

  I said it there, I’ll say it today, and every day, always.

  Something about the words made me feel choked up. Who would have guessed that Eric could write so well?

  “I knew this one would stump you,” he said, looking triumphant. “You’ll never get it.”

  “Wrong,” I whispered, looking up at him. “It’s Greenfield Village.”

  His mouth popped open. “How in the world did you know that?”

  I held up the paper. “This obviously refers to you saying that you love me,” I said. “And the first time you ever said that was at the village.”

  He shook his head slightly as he started up the car. “You’re good, Kiks.”

  “I happen to have a vested interest in this relationship,” I teased.

  Greenfield Village was one of my favorite places on earth. It was part of a historical museum, The Henry Ford, which focused on American industry and invention. The village was an outdoor museum designed to show what early American life would have been like, from the seventeenth century on. It was meant to look like an old-fashioned American village, complete with authentic buildings and outdoor spaces.

  I had always loved the Henry Ford, and the village in particular, long before my dad became one of the museum’s main benefactors. Back in high school I used to drive down to Dearborn, about half an hour from my house, just to wander around the village, getting lost in the experience of it, the simplicity and the quiet.

  Eric and I had been dating for a few months when I brought him to the museum for a fundraising gala that my parents had insisted I attend. After we had done our bit of mingling, Eric snuck me outside, away from the crowds of people sucking up to me because of my father. We had wandered into the village, relieved to be out on our own. I told Eric all about the times I had spent there, even admitting to pretending I was Laura Ingalls Wilder when I wanted to escape my life.

  After I told him that, he was quiet for a moment. I began to feel embarrassed, assuming I had over-shared. But when I looked up at him to make a self-deprecating joke, the look on his face stopped me in my tracks.

  “I love you,” he had said, his voice low and steady.

  “You do?” I had squeaked, shocked. My heart was beating so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.

  “I do,” he said. “I really, really do.”

  We had kissed after that, of course, and I had told him that I loved him, too. I always wondered what made him say it, why he chose that moment, but I had never asked. I was too happy to ask questions.

  Now, as we walked out across the lawns, I couldn’t help but remember that day, our first trip there. “Come on,” Eric said. “I have one last surprise for you.”

  He led me to the far side of the village. Just beyond a grassy stretch, I could make out a small garden, set back against one of the old houses. It was there Eric led me, pulling me along, a huge grin on his face. When we reached the garden, I gasped. We were surrounded by daisies.

  “Did you know these were here?” I asked. “This is beautiful. Is this the surprise?”

  “No, Kiki,” he said, his voice low. “This is.”

  And suddenly he was down on one knee, right there in the middle of the daisies, a diamond ring in his hand.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The morning after the ultrasound, I woke up feeling crampy. I brushed it off, assuming it was a symptom of the pregnancy. I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom.

  “Hey,” Eric called
sleepily from the bed. “Where you going?”

  I turned to smile at him. “Busy day,” I said. “I skipped work yesterday to hang out at Greenfield Village with you, remember?”

  “Come back to bed,” he said, rising up to rest his head on one arm. “Jen can handle work.”

  “Sorry, babe,” I said. “I’m going to be a mother, you know. I need to be all responsible and stuff.”

  Eric snorted from the bed as I continued on into the bathroom. “That will take some work,” he called after me.

  I smiled at myself in the mirror. I looked happy, even with my messy hair and creases on my red cheeks from my pillow. Maybe I was just crazy, but it sure looked like I had that whole pregnancy glow thing going on.

  I brushed my teeth quickly, feeling the cramps in my belly intensify a little bit. I rubbed my skin through my nightshirt. I would have to look this up in the baby book. I rinsed my mouth with water and headed over to the toilet, pulling down my undies as I sat down. I glanced down, yawning, and the sight before me made my breath catch.

  “Eric!” I cried, feeling somehow hot and cold at the same time. Another cramp clenched my stomach and I felt like my heart was stopping. “Eric!”

  He was in the doorway within seconds, his face panicked, obviously able to tell from the sound of my voice that this was bad, seriously, seriously bad. In that moment, looking at his scared face take in the sight before him, his wide eyes glued to the blood dripping steadily down my leg, I knew.

  I wasn’t pregnant anymore.

  ***

  The nurses were very nice to me. Someone was waiting for us at the door, Eric having called ahead, and they took me back to the exam room immediately, not making me wait out in the lobby with all those pregnant women and their excited, happy faces. Their kindness, rather than comforting me, cemented my feeling that it was all over.

  “It’s very normal this early,” Dr. Bishop told me half an hour later. She had examined me and listened for a heartbeat before determining that I had, in fact, had a miscarriage. “Especially for a first pregnancy.” Her voice trailed off when I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I felt numb, like I was moving through a dream. This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t.