by Ellie Cahill
“There are bigger secrets,” a little voice spoke and we all turned to see Hadley nervously twisting her fingers together.
Jake shook his head. “Don’t,” he said.
“No, it’s okay,” she said. Her voice was so soft it was hard to hear over the ocean.
“Don’t,” Jake repeated, more forcefully.
Hadley ignored him as she turned to face Brady. “Will, I need to tell you something.”
“Hadley, shut up,” Jake snapped.
“Hey, man, what the fuck is your problem?” Brady asked, taking a step toward Jake.
“Don’t wait,” Jake said.
“What?” The big man looked confused.
“Just trust me. Don’t wait anymore.”
“What, now?”
“Yeah.”
“The hell…” Brady muttered. He looked around at the small crowd gathered on the dark beach. “This isn’t…” He shook his head. “Okay. Why the fuck not?”
Jake found my hand and gave it a squeeze.
Brady took Hadley by the hand a pulled her a few steps down the beach. They were still well within earshot and we could see everything by the pale moonlight, but he seemed to need a little extra space. Maybe it was just to accommodate the suddenly nervous energy he was radiating.
“HB, I wish I could have thought of something better to say to you, because you deserve it. But I love you like crazy. You’re just—I love everything about you. And I was thinking we should have one of these wedding things for ourselves for once.” He fumbled in his pocket for a second, then dropped to one knee in front of her, holding up a ring. “Will you marry me?”
A collective gasp of pleasure reminded all of us that there was a definitely crowd watching this very personal moment.
“Oh my god.” Hadley put one hand on his shoulder at first, dropping her head forward as if overwhelmed. “Oh my god.” Then she did something I’d never seen in any of the hundreds of romantic movies I’ve watched over my lifetime. She took a seat on his upraised knee and propped her head on her hands. “Sorry, I just…” she paused. “I’m a little lightheaded here.”
I started to rush forward, nursing instincts on full alert, but Jake wouldn’t let go of my hand.
“Give her a second,” he whispered.
“Hads?” Brady asked.
“I’m here,” she said
“Umm…you’re kind of leaving me hanging here.”
“Sorry, sorry.” She straightened up a little and revealed a tear-stained face. “I want to say yes,” she said.
“Don’t say but,” he said.
“No, no, it’s not like that.” She slid off his leg, dropping to her knees in the sand to face him and reached up to cup his cheeks. “I want to say yes. Just know that. I want to marry you.”
“Okay. Then say it. Say yes, and then stop talking, because I am still hearing a but coming my way and I don’t like that.”
“I’m pregnant,” she said.
Everyone watching gasped again.
“You’re what?”
“I’m pregnant,” she repeated, more confidently. Her voice still quavered with “And I don’t want you to marry me because you feel like you have to. Please don’t marry me because you have to. That would kill me. I would rather not get married than have you do it because it’s the right thing to do, okay?”
“Holy shit, you’re pregnant?” His tone was pure wonder, as he sank back on his heels. “How did—? When—? Are you…we’re gonna have a baby?”
“Is that okay?” she asked, suddenly timid again.
“Hell yes, it’s okay. Now are you going to marry me or what?”
She laughed, still crying, and nodded. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes!”
A cheer went up from the crowd. Brady slid the ring on her finger and pulled her into a fierce hug that ultimately landed them both on the ground. He kissed her all over her face while she giggled and then went still when put a gentle hand on her stomach.
“Are we seriously going to have a baby?”
She nodded. “I know it’s not what you probably had in mind, but yeah.”
He grinned. “No birth control in the universe can stop my swim team!”
She put a hand over his face. “Oh god, don’t make me give you this ring back.”
He batted her hand away and raised his face to look at the rest of us. “We’re gonna get married and have a baby you guys.”
We screamed and cheered as they got to their feet and returned to the group for a million hugs and congratulations.
28
How to Plan for No Plans
“You knew,” I said to Jake as we walked back to his room. We were hand-in-hand, which felt perfect. “You knew Brady was going to propose.”
“Yeah, I knew.”
“When did he tell you?” I asked. Not because I felt like I should have been in on the secret. Purely out of curiosity.
“Around the time he got the ring,” he said. “And then right before we came here, he said he was going to ask her while they were here.”
“And you knew she didn’t want him to marry her out of obligation.”
“Right.”
I wrapped my other hand around his bicep, giving his arm and awkward hug as we walked. “You did a good thing, Jake.”
“Thanks.” We came to a stop outside his door and he used his wristband to let us into the room. “You think Ashley’s going to be pissed when she figures out Brady told me first?”
I rolled my eyes. “If she is I’ll just have to remind her she’s not the open book she claims to be.”
Jake raised his eyebrows at me. “Oh?”
It was so against my personal policy to reveal anyone else’s secrets to a third party. I prided myself on being trustworthy. But Jake had always been someone I could trust as much as I wanted other people to trust me.
I opened my mouth to speak a couple of times, but hesitated and chewed my lip. The words would be so easy, Ashley’s a dancer at a strip club. But she didn’t want anyone to know, and I’d promised.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Jake said.
“I hate how much I want to tell you,” I admitted. “It’s not like me.”
“Then don’t.” He stepped closer, and ran the back of his fingers down my arm. “I can think of a thousand better things to do than gossip about Ashley.”
“Speaking of gossip, I was shocked they didn’t say anything about…” I gestured between us.
“I’m sure they’ll make up for it tomorrow when you bring your stuff into my room.”
“I’m bringing my stuff?”
“If I only get two more days with you, I’m going to make them count.”
The thought made my stomach drop and my eyes burn. I wasn’t ready to think about leaving him.
Jake shook his head. “No no no, no tears. Don’t think about it now.” He cupped my chin and tilted my head up to kiss me. “Not yet.” He said between kisses. “Right now, we’re here. Just be here.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are.” He kissed my wet cheeks. “I love that you’re trying. I hate that you have to.”
We didn’t sleep well that night. Scratch that. We didn’t sleep for long. Every time I fell asleep, it was deep, satisfying sleep. Jake was my perfect big spoon, curling around me and fitting into every curve and angle. I loved the feel of his arm draped over my waist and and the gentle sound of his breathing.
Although I woke frequently, it wasn’t restlessness. It was the strange newness of sharing my bed with another person. And each time I woke, the surprise and delight of realizing it was Jake beside me.
“Do you really have to go back to Chicago?” I murmured to him as he left sleepy kisses along my hairline. “Can’t you just stay?”
“You don’t live here either, silly.”
“Maybe we should stay here. In this hotel. Together.”
He chuckled sleepily. “I think we’ll be broke pretty quick.�
��
Some time passed where I may have fallen asleep, but I couldn’t be sure. All I knew was he startled me when he spoke again. “Will you come to Chicago? Come see me?”
“To visit?”
“Mmm hmm.” He sounded as if he might fall asleep.
“Yes,” I promised. “As soon as I can get a few days off. I’ll come.”
“Good.”
“And will you come to California? Come back and see me?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to have to experience Sunday spaghetti,” I told him. “It’s required.”
“Mmm hmm.” His breathing grew slow and steady and I knew he’d fallen asleep.
Sometime later I woke again, and stretched to unkink my neck. There were still things to be learned about sleeping with another person. My movement stirred Jake, who had unfurled onto his back at some point. His arm was trapped beneath me and it took a bit of wiggling until we were both comfortable again. This time I was the big spoon, though I didn’t cover him as perfectly as he’d covered me.
I kissed his spine between his shoulders, taking a moment to savor the freedom I had to do so. Jake pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “Remind me to thank Emmy and Beck for getting us all in the same place,” he said.
“What if they didn’t?” I asked. “What if we hadn’t seen each other again?”
“We would have,” he murmured. “Remember? We’re conditionally engaged.”
“So you would have just waited another five years and showed up on my 30th birthday to claim your bride?” I kissed his shoulder.
“That could have been pretty awkward, huh?”
“Especially since I didn’t remember that part. What would you have done if I met someone else?”
“Were you planning to meet someone else?”
“My sister keeps trying to set me up with other Marines.”
“Well, I guess she’ll have to stop doing that.” He twisted around to gather me in his arms. “You’re mine now.”
“I still don’t know how we’re going to do this, Jake.”
“Me, either.”
“I’m still trying not to freak out.”
“I know.” He kissed my forehead, my nose, my lips. “But it’s going to work out. I know it.”
* * *
The rest of our time in Mexico moved as slow as molasses and faster than the speed of light. All at once. There was such intense joy in being with Jake. The realization of all my years of dreaming. He was quite simply, my person. Everything I could have asked for. All except for the geography.
The others teased us, of course, but it was all done with a happy smile and a lot of exclamations of “finally!”
I was exhausted as we waited for the shuttle service to take us back to the airport. Days and days of being in the sun and the ocean, coupled with the emotional highs and lows, and a severe lack of sleep as Jake and I tried to squeeze every second out of our time together. My body ached in ways and in places I hadn’t realized could ache.
I’d been crying most of the morning. Just a little. Miraculously, Jake and I were on the same first leg of our journey, flying into Houston this time. But then he’d leave me there, on his way back to Chicago.
We’d already looked at our calendars, looking for upcoming weekends I’d be able to come visit him. I didn’t care how many bachelor parties I had to rehydrate on Sunday mornings to keep making the extra money I’d need to maintain a long-distance relationship with Jake. He might have faith that things would work out on their own, but I was counting on concrete plans to sustain us.
Saying goodbye to everyone else, both at the resort, and the airport as various shuttles and flights departed was sad. We promised each other not to let two years pass before we saw each other again. Emmy and Beck were hoping to get placed in jobs that would put them closer to some of us. Jake promised to be in better touch with everyone now that his graduate work was over. At least until he started on his Ph.D. he warned us.
We did the social media connecting with all our new friends from Middlesex. It was nice to know there were people who might be happy to see me from all over the country now that my life was going into limbo with Jake.
On our flight to Houston, I kept the armrest up between our seats and curled up on Jake’s chest. There was a lot of crying. Enough that I probably should have gotten his Peter the Anteater shirt out of my suitcase and offered it up as a change of clothes. The thought of being apart again broke my heart and scared me beyond words. What if we couldn’t make it work over 2000 miles? What if he grew weary of my constant sobbing over the phone if I couldn’t pull myself together ever again? How could I possibly be expected to survive without touching him?
The plane touched down in Houston all too soon. All around us the sound of people taking their phones out of airplane mode reminded me that we were back on U.S. soil. Since leaving the resort’s WiFi, we’d been completely out of touch with the rest of the world.
Jake nudged me to get me slightly off his arm so he could double-check his next flight’s status. I realized I should do the same. At least I had more than a 20 minute layover this time around. A few more moments to spend with Jake.
My phone pinged, and whirred, and bubbled with alerts of all kinds as it breathed in beautiful, fresh LTE signal. All the functions I’d forbidden it to do in Mexico it was free to do once more. Little red numbers begged for my attention from the corner of numerous apps.
The texts got my first attention. A flood of them cascaded onto the screen from different carriers. And an obnoxious one from my sister timed only minutes ago.
Rachael: Lance is free on Friday. Should I set it up?
Suddenly Jake let out a bark of laughter.
“What?” I asked distractedly, sending a quick reply to my mother’s text imploring me to let her know when I was back in the country.
“Um, I got some news…” he throat was thick and I looked up to note with surprise that he had the barest hint of tears in his eyes.
Instantly, I was concerned. “What?”
“Look.” He held his phone out to me. The screen was open to his voice mail, with the transcript typed up below an unknown number.
* * *
Hi Jake, this is Jim McCaffrey from Foundation Counseling. I was calling to let you know that we’d like to offer you the position…
* * *
I stopped reading as soon as I got the gist. “Oh my god, that’s great!” I gave him a hug. “Congratulations!”
“Mary…” he laughed in total wonder, “The clinic is in San Diego.”
Six Months Later
Save the date!
Mary and Jake are getting married!
October 10
Irvine, California
Formal invitation to follow
Acknowledgments
To my readers, who have shown exceeding patience as I took entirely too long to write this book. It has been through many drafts and plot changes as I struggled to get Mary and Jake’s story on the page while remodeling a house, moving, and some serious health issues. So thank you for sticking with me and waiting so patiently for this final installment.
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Extra thanks to:
Liz Lincoln, for listening to every little shift in the plot along the way, and keeping a straight face.
Tamsen and Becca, my princesses in the tower and roommates who kept me and my noisy stomach company during the major drafting phases.
Laura Bradford for agenting my slacker self during these last few less-than-productive years.
My family who pretty much forced me into the chair and told me to finish already. Are you happy now?
Text copyright © 2019 Liz Czukas
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, sorted in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any mean, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
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Cover Design © Liz Czukas. All rights reserved.
About the Author
ELLIE CAHILL is the not at all secret pen name of Young Adult author Liz Czukas. In addition to the rest of the Cordially Invited series (I TEMPORARILY DO and THE DESIGNATED +1) Ellie is the author of WHEN JOSS MET MATT, CALL ME MAYBE, and JUST A GIRL. She lives outside Milwaukee, WI with her family and the happiest golden retriever, and the most disdainful hound in the world.
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ALSO BY ELLIE CAHILL
When Joss Met Matt
Call Me, Maybe
Just a Girl
I Temporarily Do
The Designated +1
AS LIZ CZUKAS
Ask Again Later
Top Ten Clues You’re Clueless
Throwing My Life Away
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