“You told me not to propose.”
“Since when do you listen to me?”
The dimple that appeared when he half-smiled made me want to forget this whole thing and ravage him again. “For once,” he said with amusement, “I’m not the one bringing this up.”
“You used to all the time, but you don’t anymore.” I lowered my eyes to his chest. “I know you’re not having second thoughts about us, but . . . are you having second thoughts?”
He laughed. “No, Birdy. Of course not. It’s because other things have been taking up space in my mind.”
Other things? What other things? Manning had a terribly sweet habit of putting me first all the time. He’d once canceled his workday to drive me into Pomona when my car had broken down the morning of an exam—one reason I’d started staying at school before anything important. Then he’d picked me up at the end of that week in my newly fixed car. Any night I was home to make dinner, he stopped everything the moment I called for him, even when he was in the zone. In the bedroom, my needs came first—literally. If he was thinking about something other than me or work, I couldn’t say I blamed him—but it was out of character. “What things?”
He looked up at the ceiling, blinking a few times as if choosing his words. “I like to think one of the lessons I’ve learned over the years is that perfect doesn’t exist. The day I marry you, finally hearing you’re my wife will be enough, but I can’t help that I want it to be as close to perfect as possible.”
My nerves fizzled out. I thought we’d moved on from this. At first, Manning had stayed away because he was afraid he’d ruin me. Then, it’d taken him years to bring me to the home he’d built us due to some ridiculous expectations he’d invented. I hadn’t needed perfection then, and I didn’t now. I just needed Manning. I couldn’t help feeling as if this was a setback for us. “I don’t need some grand-gesture proposal, Manning. Ask whenever you’re ready. Then, we can go to City Hall for all I care.”
The way he scolded me with a simple look, I could see City Hall was not an option.
“I don’t need or even want perfect,” I continued. “Especially if it means you’re going to put distance between us the way you have in the past.”
His expression eased. “Let me rephrase. I don’t need perfect. All I care about, and I think you want this, too, is that the wedding is us. And we are far from perfect.”
“Exactly,” I said. “So what’s the problem?”
“I never want you to look back at that day with any regrets.”
“Are you kidding? How could you think . . .” Regret. The meaning of his words dawned on me. When Manning spoke of regret, it was usually in regard to one thing. “Is this about my family?”
He scratched the bridge of his nose and said, “They should be there.”
“We’ve been over this. They don’t want to be there, and I’ve made my peace with that.”
“So you’ve talked with them about this?” he asked.
He knew I hadn’t. I spoke to my mom and Tiffany even less frequently than I had when I’d lived in New York. I couldn’t just come out and tell them I was with Manning. Not only did the idea of it make my stomach churn, but it wasn’t news to break over the phone. On the rare occasion we did talk, keeping them in the dark about the most important part of my life felt like lying. It was easier not speaking to them at all.
Not bothering to hold back a scowl, I started to get up. “I haven’t, but I guess you have.”
Manning tugged me back onto his chest by my elbow. “Your dad and I mainly talk about my business. He has no idea I speak to you, as you know.” He sighed. “My point is that you don’t know what they want. You’re using that as an excuse not to make the first move.”
“Are you giving me an ultimatum?” I asked. “If I don’t make up with my family, you won’t marry me?”
“Come on now. You know there’s nothing in the world that can keep me from making you my wife. I’ve just begun to realize that it’s more important for you to have your father walk you down the aisle than it is for me to get what I want as soon as possible.” The fire popped beside us as Manning tilted his head. “If it means waiting until you realize it, too, I’m willing to do that.”
The idea of my father, who’d wanted nothing to do with me for over a decade, walking me down the aisle was so painful that my nose tingled with unwelcome tears. It would never happen. It wasn’t an image I’d been prepared for, and Manning had lobbed it at me without warning. This time, I managed to get up before he could pull me back. “Then I hope you’re prepared to wait a while.” I covered myself with a throw, tucking it under my arms. “It’s not as if I haven’t thought about having them there, but I don’t see how it would work.”
“It’s not as impossible as you think,” he said, sitting up. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Manning and I had been doing so well. The thought that he’d let anything come between us anymore—especially things we’d already defeated, like my family and his, and the stupidity of perfection—angered me. “You sound like a middle school inspirational poster,” I said, hoping it came out as bitchy as I meant it to.
“If you can tell me with complete sincerity that you have absolutely no desire for them to be there, then I’ll accept that,” he said. “You can’t know how badly I want to marry you, and I’m not willing to let them come between us again. But you should know that I’m going to talk to your father before we do this. And Tiffany, too.”
I turned to look down at him, my face heating. “How can you go to him for permission? Of course he’ll say no. He never wanted us together, and in case you’ve forgotten, he got his way on that issue for a very long time.”
“It’s not permission. It’s respect.”
“Why? Why do you care what they think?”
“Maybe they don’t mean anything to you anymore, but they were my family once, too.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “This is important to me, Lake.”
“What should be important to you is the fact that you and I lost several years together thanks to him. Thanks to both of them. Is that the kind of family you want?”
“I know it’s easier to think this is all their fault, but it isn’t.” He grabbed for his underwear, probably sensing our canoodling was done for the night. The way he was headed, he might even be sleeping on the couch. “I made my own decisions back then, and your father had less impact on those decisions than you think.”
Definitely the couch. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re failing miserably,” I shot back as I turned to blow out the candles.
“I want you to put this behind you,” he said. “Your old man’s stubborn, and he’s not going to give in.”
If I’d known the marriage topic would veer into such dangerous territory as my family, I never would’ve broached it. Although I held lingering resentment for the fact that my father had gone out of his way to keep us apart, what really angered me was that he couldn’t admit to his mistakes, respect my decision not to attend USC, and try to reconcile with me. He’d let a stupid cluster of buildings come between us.
I pulled one pillow from under Manning and then another, tossing them on the couch as I kept my chin high. “So why do I have to be the one to bridge the gap?”
“Because pride isn’t a good enough reason to ruin a relationship with the man who raised you—a man who only ever wanted what was best for you.”
“I think you’re forgetting one thing,” I said, holding the throw closed with one hand as I deconstructed Manning’s bed of pillows—and our romantic night. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me, either. It’s not all my stubbornness.”
“Your dad misses you.” He got up and pulled on his underwear. “I’ve been saying it for years. I’d never encourage you to reconcile with him if I didn’t believe that.”
I turned to put out the fire, which I’d only done a couple times. I picked up the poker I’d seen Manning use and hesitated. He
watched silently, which was almost worse than arguing with me. It was hard to ignore him when he wasn’t speaking.
Finally, he came and took the poker from me. “I know how much his rejection hurts you, but I believe he wants to be back in your life as much as you believe he doesn’t.”
“Then explain to me why he still hasn’t been able to pick up the phone. I’m finally on a ‘respectable’ career path by his standards. Why hasn’t that been enough of a reason to reach out?”
“Let me ask you this,” Manning said, crossing his arms, “what could Charles possibly say to excuse his behavior the past decade and a half?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m sure that’s what he thinks as well. Like you, he’s convinced there’s too big a gulf between you.”
“There is.” I picked up the dregs of our whisky. “I can’t even believe you’re bringing this up now. I was so excited to talk about us—our future—and now all I can think about is them. I thought you understood. I thought you were on my side.”
“I’m always on your side, Lake, and that’s why I’m pushing this. Not because it’d make me happy, even though it would. It’s because I want you to be happy. You can’t hide the fact that you miss your family forever.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” I said, turning to leave the room. On my way out, I added, “You don’t see me asking you to reconcile with your father so I can have a perfect wedding full of family fun.”
As I said it, my throat thickened with the threat of tears. This was not how I’d anticipated the night would go. Now, not only was I embarrassed that I’d asked for a proposal I hadn’t received, but I’d also made a huge mistake by mentioning his father. I knew our situations were night and day, but I couldn’t help feeling as if Manning was siding with a man who would’ve preferred Manning and I never met at all.
I was angry, but not with Manning. He and I were solid—we’d moved the stars on our own. Despite my dad. For more than a decade, I’d been without the man who’d raised me—he’d gone that long not caring to close the gap between us. He hadn’t congratulated me on my graduation from NYU. Hadn’t checked in on my life beyond whatever he got from my phone calls with Mom. He’d let pride get in the way of all of that and he’d missed too much of my life. He didn’t deserve to come in at the best part.
“Lake,” Manning said from behind me as I set our glasses in the sink.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose as I glanced out into the backyard. It was a command to turn around, but I didn’t want to face him after what I’d said. I should never have brought his father into this. He was a monster from his core. That wasn’t my dad, no matter how he’d hurt me.
I turned to find Manning leaning in the doorway in his underwear, arms crossed over his oiled chest, hair sticking up in all directions. The man was equal parts sexy and cute and wholly impossible to stay angry with.
“I’m sorry,” I said, deflating. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I know you didn’t mean it that way.”
“I just don’t understand why this matters so much to you.”
“One of the reasons I never touched you was because I knew it would ruin your relationship with your family.” His torso expanded with a breath, a frown on his face. “You know if you and I had gotten together, even if Tiffany hadn’t been in the picture, it would’ve created a rift between you and your dad. I can’t help feeling this is my fault.”
“It isn’t, though,” I said.
“Regardless if it is or isn’t, you and I are older now. We’re as much adults as they are. If your dad and I have been able to keep in touch, you and he should be able to at least try.”
“But I’m happy, Manning. Truly happy—as happy as I could ever get. What gives my dad the right to skip all the hard and scary parts of my life and come in when everything is great?”
“I already told you.” Manning crossed the kitchen and slid a hand under my hair, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “This isn’t about him. It’s about you. And us.”
“Are we not okay?” I asked quietly. “Was I wrong to think everything was as close to perfect as it could get?”
“Oh, Birdy,” he whispered. “You weren’t wrong. I wouldn’t change a thing about our life together.” He put both palms to my cheeks. “I guess part of me just wanted to give you what I don’t have and never will. Maybe, selfishly, I want those things back . . . a father, a sibling, even a mother. I don’t have them anymore, and it kills me that you don’t, either—because of me.”
My heart dropped. I had been the selfish one, thinking this was only about me. Manning had needs that’d been easy for me to ignore. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I forget that you’ve lost not only your mom and dad, but mine as well. I know you had good times with your family until Maddy’s death.”
“That was a different life. Maybe I need to let go rather than trying to get you to forgive them. It’s my own insecurities bringing all this up.”
Having lost any sense of family as a teen, he reminded me all the time that I came first. Him and me, us—we were his priority. I leaned into his touch, sinking into the familiar roughness of his palm. “I’m your family.”
“And I don’t want to wait any longer to make that official. I want you as my wife—now. I want you pregnant with my child—now.”
The abruptness of his words caused heat to bloom from my chest to my face. A minute ago, I’d been concerned he was having second thoughts. Suddenly, we were talking babies? It wasn’t as if the idea of children never came up—it did frequently—but there was something extra arousing about his impatience. “You’ve said that before. Careful, or one of these days, you might wear me down.”
He narrowed his eyes on my mouth. “You say that like it’s a threat.”
“It is. There’s no reason we can’t start planning a wedding, but we’re definitely not ready for a baby.”
“Remind me again why not? You graduate in less than six months. If I knock you up now—”
I widened my eyes. “We won’t even be married by then.”
He shrugged, slipping a firm hand inside the blanket and down my ribs. “So maybe your wedding dress is a little snug around the middle.”
“Manning—”
He groaned, walking me back until my ass hit the counter. “You have any idea what that image does to me, you as a pregnant bride?”
Truthfully, it did things to me, too. For years, it’d been our plan to wait until I’d been working a year or two, but that didn’t mean I didn’t think about it all the time. “I’m supposed to start looking for a job soon.”
“There’s always a reason for us not to be together, not to get married, not to have a baby,” he said, gathering up the throw to expose my thigh. “If we’ve done nothing else right in our lives, we have bad timing down to an art, so why fight it?”
Manning’s fiendish need for a baby excited me, and not just because he was growing hard against my stomach. That happened whenever he went into protect, provide, mate mode. But tonight, his impatience made me pause. I needed to know there was no chance Manning needed a baby to fill a hole left by both his family and mine. Manning would never accept an unfilled hole in my soul. I owed him the same. I could give him back a family he’d once had. If I was the only thing keeping him from them, I couldn’t be selfish any longer.
Maybe Manning was right about this. He knew the true meaning of a bad father. I’d kept my dad at arm’s length for so long and for reasons I wasn’t even sure were still important to me. It was hard to hold a grudge when I had the life I’d always wanted. I could’ve grown up in a household like Manning’s. Instead, my parents had done nothing but try to give me every opportunity. As Manning held onto me, his trust in me as solid as ever, I had to admit I’d done wrong by him. I hadn’t thought of how deeply all of this impacted him. Not only did I want Manning to be a father, but I wanted him to have one, too. I hadn’t acted that way, though. I’d given Manning shit on mo
re than one occasion for keeping in touch with my dad. For too long, I’d pretended as if their relationship was a problem, when the reality was, in Manning’s eyes, it was probably a gift.
I sighed heavily, defeat working its way through me. Manning held me close as my body went slack. “What is it?” he asked.
“My mom invited me for Sunday dinner recently.”
“Me too,” he said. “She does every few months. You tell her no. I tell her no.”
What was I thinking? I wasn’t sure. I only knew if I didn’t make a move now, it might be another decade before I worked up the nerve to see them again. And I wasn’t waiting that long to marry the man in front of me. “What if he doesn’t want to make things right?” I muttered. “What if I go there and my own dad can’t even look at me?”
“Then I’ll make him look at you. Show him this has gone on too long. I will do everything in my power to mend what’s missing in your life, and if I can’t, you’ll have to be satisfied knowing it’ll only be you and me—but it’ll always be you and me.”
I smiled a little. “I suppose I can live with that.”
I’d thought many times about contacting my dad; I’d just never considered actually doing it. The thought terrified me, but Manning had given me so much over the years, I wanted to do this for him, and for our relationship. And, if I was honest, for myself. I missed my father, regardless of how he’d treated us, and I’d gone long enough on my own. Maybe that should have strengthened my resolve, knowing I could live without him, but I wanted my family back in my life. Not only my dad, but my sister, too, if she and I could ever move past the man between us.
It was time to go home.
4
Standing before my parents’ front door, Manning and I were faced with a version of the same welcoming holiday wreath my mother had hung every year of my childhood—crisp greenery offset by a red, poufy felt bow. Like always, the cul-de-sac curved with neat lawns, and LED lights trimmed every roof, even weeks after Christmas. An ocean breeze cooled the back of my neck. Not much had changed in the years since I’d moved away, and yet, everything was different.
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