by M. J. Pullen
Lily rolled her eyes. “You can be the wedding planner. We just need to find a caterer and a seamstress and we’re all set.”
“Ugh. NO weddings. I’m not even sure I want to do proposals any more. I’m fed up with other people’s disgusting happiness.” She hesitated, then looked at Lily. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“This Jared guy has you really upset, huh?”
“I know. It’s stupid.” Charlotte threw herself back against the chair and put her hands over her eyes. “I thought I’d left my college drama behind.”
“Yeah, you’ve barely mentioned this guy since I met you. You’ve talked a tiny bit about Boyd…”
“Boyd,” Charlotte echoed. “Yet another man who I trusted with my innermost self, only to have him wind up marrying someone else.”
Lily opened her mouth and closed it, picking at imaginary lint on their spotless white couch.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Lily.”
“Okay, it’s just…I hate to argue with you when I know my job as your friend is to feed you ice cream and tell you he’s a jerk…”
“But?”
“But you didn’t trust him with your innermost self, did you? You didn’t track him down after he left Athens, or even after you left Boyd. And these last two days, have you told him how you feel? I mean, in a way that didn’t come off like a criticism of his girlfriend?”
“You hate his girlfriend! And I—” Charlotte started to defend herself, but stopped talking as she considered whether Lily might be right.
“And, if I can challenge you a little further.” Lily gently rested a hand on Charlotte’s knee. “He’s also not marrying someone else. Not yet. Not tonight. He won’t even be engaged until tomorrow night.”
“What are you suggesting? That I make an even bigger ass of myself than I already have? Track him down and throw myself at him, when I’m not even sure how I feel? We’re in this business, Lils. We know what a big deal it is to ruin someone’s proposal.”
“I’m suggesting,” Lily stood and put the lid on her Cherry Garcia, “that I’ve never known you to accept defeat so easily. And maybe if your feelings are this strong, you should go after your own happiness instead of resenting everyone else’s.”
She bent down and kissed Charlotte on the forehead. “I’d tell you to get some rest, but I think we both know that’s not happening tonight.”
“I really am happy for you and Darren.”
“I know you are. And I’m counting on you to take my side when it comes to giving my equipment space in our apartment.”
Charlotte watched her shuffle off toward the stairs and bed, wondering how she would have survived her first five years in San Francisco without her implacable, weird roommate.
Charlotte woke up early the next morning and threw on a comfortable jersey skirt and ratty t-shirt. She spent Saturday focused on conspicuously normal things. She walked to the corner bakery for her favorite coffee and croissant, and forced herself to sit at a sidewalk table with the newspaper, though she found her eyes strayed constantly from the words to the people passing. Had Jared spent the night with Brianna? Were they going to walk past her any moment, hand in hand?
She did every bit of her laundry, including the hand wash items. Perhaps in response to her first time ever being fired by a client, she re-organized her proposal portfolio, updating the book with some of the recent engagements that made her the proudest.
There was the Giants fan who’d recruited his family and friends to wear t-shirts that spelled out “MARRY ME SUSAN” during the seventh inning stretch at AT&T Park. The musical theater star who proposed to her boyfriend by singing “What About Love?” from The Color Purple in the middle of a crowded BART train. The Renaissance Faire proposal that had involved flaming swords and minstrels and one particularly randy grandfather in a kilt.
Charlotte paused, smiling, on her favorite proposal of the year. Bernard was a painfully shy IT executive who’d somehow managed to walk onstage in front of five hundred strangers to propose to Tim, his middle school band-director boyfriend. Together, she and Bernard (and a very accommodating band booster club) had recruited the kids to play a surprise wedding march at the end of their annual eighth-grade concert. Somehow, the parents, and a helpful chorale teacher down the hall, had coordinated having the kids rehearse the extra song in secret, so that just when he was ready to relax after the concert, their beloved director got the shock of his life.
Lily had captured the moment beautifully—shock, tears, laughter, kiss, applause. Charlotte ran an affectionate finger over the glossy, happy faces of the couple, surrounded by kids cheering and hoisting their instruments in the air in triumph. Her heart swelled with pride. This was what she loved: bringing people together.
Was that what Charlotte did?
In her best moments, she felt proud of creating unforgettable moments, stories that would be handed down to children and grandchildren as part of the family lore.
But in her worst moments, like this one—alone in her apartment, trying desperately not to look at the clock as the time to Jared’s big night ticked away—she sometimes felt she had the silliest profession on earth. Her clients already knew who they wanted to be with. Presumably if her services were not available, they would find other ways of proposing. Like the traditional candlelit dinner or the ring hidden in the cake. Or just turning to each other in a quiet moment and saying, “Let’s do this.” Was all the pomp and drama really necessary? What did it prove?
In the stack of photos from the middle school—Lily had taken hundreds, apparently—there was a shot of three girls from the woodwind section, grinning faces pressed together, holding a congratulatory sign that all the kids had autographed. Charlotte had not looked closely at this shot before, but now she noticed Tim and Bernard in the near distance behind the girls, faces pressed close as they shared some snippet of private conversation. Bernard was still splotchy from the embarrassment of declaring himself in front of all those people—poor thing, he’d been so terrified backstage that Charlotte had almost offered him a Xanax. Tim looked delighted, of course, but his hand on Bernard’s shoulder conveyed something else.
Pride. Tim’s future husband had extended himself way, way outside his comfort zone to declare his love. That was what meant the most, Charlotte realized. On top of the kids, and the sweet drama of surprise. Bernard had done what was hardest for him, what was riskiest. That was love.
Scrambling up to find the tissues and her keys, Charlotte glanced at the clock. Six thirty, just an hour before sunset. She would never make it, but she sure as hell had to try.
Just as Charlotte was careening out the door, phone in hand, she nearly slammed into Lily on the front stoop. Lily was on her phone with her back to the door and Charlotte was trying to text Jared as she flew toward the car. Please wait. We need to talk.
“Where are you going?” Lily ended her call. “I was just coming home to see if you wanted to go out for a drink.”
“Not now.” Charlotte dodged past her. “I have to go break up an engagement.”
“Are you serious?” Lily’s face was bright with astonishment. But she shook her head. “I can’t let you do that.”
“I’m just doing what you said last night,” Charlotte said. “Screw professionalism. Screw etiquette. None of it means anything if you can’t tell someone you love them, right?”
“Right,” Lily agreed. “I’m totally in favor of this weird, career-sabotaging long shot of a romantic gesture. I just can’t let you do it alone.”
They grinned at each other and Charlotte tossed Lily her keys. “You drive. I’ll navigate.”
They pulled up by the restaurant on the Iron Horse Trail where Jared and Charlotte had eaten just the day before, leaving the Prius with the valet and scaling down the embankment around the back. Charlotte heard laughter
from the downstairs area of the restaurant as they passed its open door, but she refused to look in. If they were already celebrating, she didn’t want to know. Hard facts and painful realities could come later. She had to see his face, had to make him understand.
For now, she focused on making it to the clearing, and ignoring the fact that she was leaving Lily farther and farther behind as she hit the trail and began the uphill jog toward the clearing.
Her legs were sore and the flip-flops rubbed painfully between her toes as she ran. She should’ve taken the time to trade for sneakers, but physical concerns were the last thing on her mind right now. Were they here? Would she see them in the clearing when she crested the hill? Or were they still rollerblading up? She glanced at the setting sun. The thought of Jared down on one knee, or kissing Brianna in the dusk beneath the string lights, was too much. She broke into a run.
When her feet pounded into view of the clearing, her heart lurched as her vision struggled to adjust. The string lights glowed in a gorgeous semi-circle, just as she’d imagined, and there was a white linen tablecloth off to the side with a metal ice bucket, just as she’d instructed the Perfect Proposals staff. In the middle, a couple danced slowly, as though the rest of the world—including a few late passersby on the trail oohing and aahing as they went past—did not exist.
Charlotte’s heart shattered.
She nearly collapsed on the concrete path as memories assaulted her, from the last two days, and from college before that. Jared, leaning over her at the techno club, guarding her body, with his face so close to hers. Jared, holding her hand on a park bench after she and Boyd had some stupid fight in college. You know I love the guy, she could still hear him say, but I’m not sure he’s good enough to love you. How had she not known then? Why hadn’t she leaned in to kiss him right that minute and forgotten about stupid, cheating Boyd?
Jared, face contorted with anguish, as he kissed her on the forehead and drove his old Sentra away to start his life’s adventure. Jared, face clouded with anger and hurt as she undermined and ruined his happiness—yet again—last night.
Oh, God. I’m a terrible person.
Charlotte turned away from the clearing, shame pricking at her eyes. For the last five years, she’d prided herself on bringing happiness to others, but when it came to the person she loved most, she’d brought him nothing but heartbreak and disappointment. How could she have been thinking of breaking up the happiest moment of his life? How could she ruin her best friend’s proposal to the love of his life?
Worse than a terrible person.
A terrible engagement planner.
She turned to walk back down the hill, seeing Lily on the phone a few paces ahead, shuffling toward her at a lackluster pace. She couldn’t hear what Lily was saying, but her smile told Charlotte she was likely talking to Darren. Charlotte felt a twinge of amused happiness, followed by an irrational urge to shove that phone down Lily’s smug, happy little throat. Followed by the sinking feeling that perhaps she wasn’t a very good friend to Lily, either.
Lily saw her and ended the conversation as they closed the distance between them. “Everything okay?” she said cheerfully.
“Of course not,” Charlotte said bitterly. “It’s already happened. They’re dancing in the clearing like the end of a freaking Hallmark movie. Can we just go before they come this way?”
“It’s…already happened?” Lily looked genuinely confused.
“We knew it was a long shot. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Lily. I’m sorry, but I’ve done enough damage here. He’s engaged to someone else and I have to go home and cry in my wine. Maybe figure out how to be a better human.”
“That’s…” Lily wrinkled her nose. “That’s a weird thing to say. But I meant, are you sure that’s Jared in the clearing? Did you see his face?”
“Yes. Wait…” Had she?
Lily grabbed her hand and dragged Charlotte up the hill. “You know what? We came a long way for this and there’s a lot at stake. Let’s go for visual confirmation, shall we?”
Charlotte allowed herself to be pulled up the hill, hoping Lily would look first. If that was Jared in the clearing and she had to see it for herself, she might never recover. But if it wasn’t…
“See?” Lily said triumphantly while Charlotte stared at her aching feet at the top of the hill. But she couldn’t look up. “They’re like, in their sixties, girl. Either your friend Jared has aged a lot in the last twenty-four hours, or we’ve got a case of mistaken identity.”
Charlotte looked more closely now, seeing that the couple was indeed much older than she’d originally thought. The man wore a plaid button-down, shorts and Birkenstocks, but now that she was paying attention, his hair was certainly silvery. And the woman was not only half a foot shorter than Brianna, with wider hips beneath her broomstick skirt, but she was also clearly African American. Both wore dull gold wedding rings that shone just enough to be visible in the fairy lights. Way to go, Charlotte. You’re a genius.
As though they felt the scrutiny, the couple slowed and drifted apart at their approach. The man’s grin was sheepish as he put an arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Sorry. Did you have something planned here?” He gestured at the clearing. “We always walk out here and this little spot looks so pretty all decked out. It just seemed like it needed dancing.” He paused and gently pushed the woman forward. “My wife talked me into it.”
The woman stepped back and smacked him lightly on the arm. “I did not, you old liar. I told you there was something planned here.” She looked at Charlotte. “It’s beautiful like this. We pass this clearing almost every day and I’ve never noticed how pretty it is.”
“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Charlotte said, delighted. And it was. The trees. The lights. The mosquitos and ticks and blisters between her toes. Everything was lovely again because Jared wasn’t here, getting engaged. Charlotte didn’t know what it meant. But for now, hope was enough. “Please keep dancing. We don’t need this spot anymore.”
As they turned to make their way back to the car, Charlotte tried not to be annoyed that Lily was staring at her phone, swiping and typing instead of watching where she was going or helping Charlotte brainstorm their next move. Probably texting Darren or shopping for furniture for their new place together. Charlotte waited patiently for a minute or two: slowing her own anxious, shuffling steps to match Lily’s meandering, and twice pulling her out of the path of speeding bicycles.
On the third near-collision, Charlotte broke. “For the love of God, Lily. I’m happy for you and Darren, but can’t you just focus on what the hell we’re going to do next? I have no idea how to find Jared. What if he’s getting on a plane right now and I never get to see him again?”
“That’s what I’m doing, actually,” Lily said, more triumphant than hurt. “I just downloaded the PathFinder app and I’m guessing at Jared’s username. Since that will show us exactly where he is.”
“Oh.” Charlotte was floored. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “Brilliant idea, Lils.”
Lily pretended to be insulted. “Once in a while, I can get things right.”
They stopped on the side of the darkening path, staring hopefully at the screen between them as it loaded.
“This can’t be right.” Charlotte buckled her seat belt as Lily steered the Prius out of the restaurant parking lot.
“I know.” Lily fumbled to adjust the driver’s seat. “You can’t tell until after you’ve tipped the valet whether they’ve completely screwed up your seat placement and changed your radio station. It’s one of the great injustices of modern life.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, this says Jared is at the Children’s Creativity Museum, and they’re not open this late on Saturday. Unless…” She got a sick, tightening feeling in her stomach. Unless Owen had suggested it as
an alternate proposal site. Of course he wouldn’t use the Iron Horse spot after the argument with Charlotte. “The carousel area is gorgeous at night.” She cringed. “They do rent out for private events.”
“No,” Lily said firmly. “It would never have been available last minute. Even for your friend Richie Rich.”
Charlotte bit her lip, doubtful. Jared could pull off just about anything he wanted. He wasn’t a “take no for an answer” kind of guy. Which was exactly what she was afraid of.
“I’m sure there is another perfectly reasonable explanation for him being on that particular corner. Maybe the app isn’t as precise as we think.”
Charlotte let it drop. There was only one way to find out what Jared was up to, and that was to see for themselves. They were forty minutes from the city, and guessing in advance would only make her feel worse. Still, as they exited the Bay Bridge, she found herself staring at the tiny blue hiking boot that represented Jared on the map, thinking how lovely the glass-encased Children’s Museum carousel looked at night.
“Wait!” She smacked Lily’s leg as they turned onto Fourth Street. “He’s moving! Turn right.”
“I can’t turn here—it’s one-way. And a mess.”
Traffic on the next block was snarled, as blinking construction signs forced drivers into a single lane and evening commuters refused to let others get over. A large dump truck ahead was backing forcefully into the road, careless of the congestion. Seeing a gap in the lane next to them, Lily jammed the wheel hard to the right and floored it. Charlotte covered her eyes as the car in the next lane stopped inches from her door. They sat at an awkward angle across the lanes for two cycles of the light while impotent horns blared and no one moved around them.
“It’d be faster to walk,” Charlotte said abysmally. “He’s two blocks away already. Do you think they’re together?”