“That’s all I can get in to. But if I do well, then I can transfer to Oklahoma State University.”
“Oklahoma! What is in Oklahoma?!”
There was nothing in Oklahoma. Nothing and no one, and Summer couldn’t wait to get out there.
Jack came back through the door with his eyebrows raised, Delia following close behind. She said, “I’ve never been to Oklahoma.”
Catherine surged to her feet, shouting at Delia. “Did you do this? An open enrollment school in Oklahoma!”
Summer just watched Jack. He stopped for a brief moment, glancing at his mother to make sure her uncharacteristic outburst wouldn’t lead to anything more physical, then moved to grip Summer in a bear hug.
She said, “You said you’d pay if I went to college.”
He pulled back, smiling at her. “I did say that.”
“Even for an open enrollment school in Oklahoma?”
“Of course.”
Catherine muttered, “Open enrollment. Oklahoma.”
Summer said, “And I don’t want to be called Gus anymore.”
Jack sighed. “I was just getting used to it.”
“I want to be called Summer.”
He glanced at the mutinous expression on their mother’s face and blew out his breath. He nodded. “I might forget a few times. I’ll try to remember.”
“I know.”
She did know it. She could always count on Jack.
Delia said, “Summer is a happy name,” and Summer smiled at her.
Catherine Lowell Cabot Bradlee shrieked.
Justine and Paul got used to living with each other on the weekends. It was nice. It was cozy.
It was wonderful to come home to someone, to curl up on the couch, and not be alone. To eat dinner together, to even wash two sets of dishes.
They’d even started talking about moving in together the rest of the week, although that came with more problems. Whose apartment, and what would happen to the other apartment?
And then, there were even more problems with moving in together because neither one of them had two bedrooms. And Justine procrastinated. And kept things to the weekend because she couldn’t tell him they needed two bedrooms. She couldn’t tell him why they needed two bedrooms.
She didn’t know how anyone could be so happy and so horrified at the same time. She didn’t know how anyone could cry while they were smiling.
She didn’t know how she could act normal with her news sitting on the tip of her tongue but apparently she did it. Every weekend they came together and they got more and more comfortable living together.
Christmas morning, they huddled on the couch, looking at the small tree they’d decorated together and exchanged gifts.
Paul said, “Open mine first.”
She ripped open the packaging, then crunched the wrapping into a ball. She looked down at a rectangular, white clothing box and Paul said, “I had some pajamas made for you.”
“Oh, no.”
He grinned. “Open it.”
Justine opened it to find his smiling face dotting a set of flannel pajamas.
She blinked, laughing. “What season do you think these go with?”
“Every season. Put them on.”
“Right now?”
“I want to see if they fit.”
She pulled out the top and a little blue box fell out on to the floor. Justine stared down at it and forgot to breathe.
Her eyes flicked up to Paul. When he went down on one knee and reached for the box, Justine’s throat closed.
She gripped the pajamas to her chest and looked down at the box sitting in his hand.
Paul opened it and all the air whooshed out of her.
Because it was a ring. A beautiful ring. A gorgeous ring.
An engagement ring.
He said, “Will you take this two months’ salary as a token of my affection? Will you marry me?”
Tears flooded her eyes.
She nodded and he pulled out the ring, sliding it on to her finger.
She looked at him and said, “Are you sure?”
He laughed. “We’re a pair.” And then he shook his head. “I don’t know how to be sure. There’s no skies opening, no birds singing.”
She knew exactly what he was saying. “There’s no white horse, no sweeping me off my feet.”
“I would hope the ring would do it.”
She looked down at it, wiggling her finger. She smiled back up at him. “It’s beautiful.”
He got up off his knee to sit next to her, taking her hand and watching the ring sparkle. “Two months’ salary. It had better be beautiful.”
“It is.” And it was.
He said, “I think we should just go for it. Move in together permanently, get married. I’m ready and you’re here.”
“You’re right. We are just not romantic.”
“No, we’re not. But I think you’ll be a great mother and I’m ready for a family.” He stared at the wall and said, “Yes. I’m pretty sure I’m ready.”
She opened her mouth, to tell him that family was coming sooner than he thought but he laughed, squeezing her hand. He said, “I wouldn’t mind becoming more like you. A little more sure about what I want in life. And I think you could become a little more like me. Have a little more fun. Is that romantic enough?”
She said, “It is for me.”
It was true. It was enough for her.
She didn’t need the ‘L’ word.
She was getting married. She was having a baby. Everything she wanted in life was hers now.
She looked down at the ring and thought maybe it would feel better once the shock wore off.
He looked around her apartment. “Now we just have to decide who gets rid of their apartment.”
She opened her mouth, to tell him they needed a second bedroom, but she didn’t want to ruin this moment. She would tell him, just not yet. Not right now.
She said, “What if we found a new apartment? Not yours, not mine, but ours. We’re going to need more room anyway.”
He nodded. “Neither one of us has any room in our closets for the other.”
That was true. And it was a good excuse.
He said, “You’re going to be busy with wedding plans. Do you want me to start looking for a new place for us?”
“And when are you going to have time to do that?”
“I’ll start chiseling. This will be good practice for me.”
Chiseling out time for children. Relief swamped her. She didn’t have to tell him now at all. She didn’t have to tell him that she’d gotten pregnant on purpose. That she’d wanted a baby more than she wanted him.
She could tell him in a few weeks that she was pregnant and it would just be part of the process. He didn’t have to know what kind of a person she was. She didn’t have to admit it out loud.
She said, “When do you want to get married?”
He smiled. “I know we’re on a deadline. Let’s do it before your birthday.”
She said, “Married before I turn thirty-seven. My mother is going to be so proud.”
“Mine will be. She’ll say good for you, putting your career first.” He grabbed the pajama bottoms, pulling them out of the box. “Now are you going to try on your pajamas?”
She looked down at the smiling Pauls and just couldn’t decide if this was sweet or funny. She said, “You know this isn’t romantic, right?”
“Is the ring romantic?”
“Yes, the ring is romantic.”
He kissed her and murmured, “One out of two isn’t bad.”
She smiled and kissed him back. One out of two wasn’t bad at all.
Justine waited until Paul left the next morning to call her mother. Justine had sent him out to get breakfast, telling him he couldn’t meet her mother the first time like this.
“But I want to hear what she says.”
“You don’t. Because she’s not going to
say
anything. Trust me. You can meet her when she’s had time to calm down.”
He’d left, and she’d called her mother, and the whole conversation had consisted of shrieks of joy.
“
My daughter! She’s getting married! Married! To a lawyer!
”
Justine could only hope she was at home and screaming the news to Dad and not at the grocery store.
“Bring him to dinner! Oh, my God! I think I have to sit down.”
“Mom, I’m not bringing him to dinner until you can meet him without screaming.”
“You bring him to dinner, Justine. And I will kiss the man on both cheeks. He’s marrying my daughter! What does he like?”
There was no time to even think of an answer to that.
Her mom said, “This will be the wedding of the century. The century! A horse drawn carriage, the wedding at the church. Oh! We have to reserve the church!”
And she hung up.
Justine crawled back into bed and let her mother have her fun. Her mother would reserve the first date the church was available, which probably wasn’t for two years, and then they would look for somewhere they could do it sooner. Something this spring.
She cupped her belly. She’d be showing by then. And maybe they would end up just having a small civil ceremony.
If Justine knew her mother, wanting her daughter married would trump just exactly
how
her daughter was married.
Justine thought about calling Delia to tell her the good news. But she didn’t. Delia wouldn’t be so happy she couldn’t think. Delia would ask her why.
Why was she marrying Paul?
Because she loved him more than anything? Because she would be better with him than without him?
Or because he’d asked when no one had asked before?
Because she’d made her decision without him and was now happy to have him along for the ride?
Justine still didn’t know why.
She looked down at two months’ salary wrapped around her finger.
And she cried.
Paul went back to work the next day. No rest for the weary. But there was a spring in his step and a smile on his face. He was getting married.
He’d told Justine that they should just go for it, and that was what he wanted. Just to go for it and to be done with the decision. To stop hemming and hawing about it.
Justine was on a deadline. They’d moved in together and it had felt good and right.
She’d been the one to hesitate about moving in together permanently and he thought he knew why. Moving in together without a certainty about their future was a big step. She needed the commitment. She needed to know moving together was the next step on the path to the final step.
So he’d given it to her. And it felt good and right. It felt comfortable.
“Paulie.”
Paul looked up to find his sister standing in the doorway of his office. “Karen? Is everything alright? Where’s Little Princess?”
“She’s with a sitter.”
“Are you okay?”
Karen shut his office door. “I’m okay. You’re not.”
He stood to walk around the desk. “What’s the matter, Karen?”
“You and Justine. Getting married. There’s just. . . It’s not. . .”
Paul pushed her into a chair and leaned against his desk. “Don’t you like Justine?”
“It’s not Justine. It’s you and Justine. You should feel like you can’t live without her. And I don’t see that, not from you, not from her.”
No, he didn’t feel like that. “Should I? Should she?”
“Marriage is hard. Marriage is the hardest thing you will ever do.” She closed her eyes. “Scratch that. Marriage is the second hardest thing you will do. Babies are first. My baby makes me long for grad school and I thought I was going to die in grad school. Half my hair fell out in grad school.”
“You’re not making parenthood sound all that appealing.”
“Oh, it’s great. She’s the light of my life, my reason for living. She’s just killing me slowly. And some days, the only reason I can keep on going is because Steve is there. Because I just could not live without him. Even when I want to strangle him with my bare hands, I can’t. Because it would hurt me just as much as it would hurt him.”
She rubbed her forehead. “I am just not making sense. See, it’s the baby brain. It’s the sleep deprivation. They say babies start sleeping through the night by the time they’re six months old. They lie, Paulie. They lie.”
“How long do you have the sitter for? You can go to my apartment and take a nap.”
“I don’t know how single moms do it. Single moms must be the strongest people on the planet. And I can’t go take a nap. I only have an hour.”
“Okay, call the sitter and tell her that I’m coming to relieve her, and I’ll stay until Steve gets home. Go sleep, Karen. You can take one afternoon to yourself.”