The Truth About Ever After (13 page)

“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 happy 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.