Chapter Twenty

Three months later

Heron

In the photo Heron posted to her online story, long pieces of particleboard were laid out as logically as possible given the limited floorspace of her basement studio. She entered the text:

“The Billy bookcase is a bother.”

Dave handed her an Allen wrench. “I think with these big sides, I’ll hold it still and you do the bolts. Then we can switch because our wrists are going to get tired.”

She laughed. “You sound like you have a lot of experience with furniture assembly.”

“My fair share, yeah.” He grinned.

Heron hadn’t expected to reconnect with her high school boyfriend when she moved to Seattle, but she’d taken him to coffee to tell him about the video Jason had made of the two of them. As she explained she didn’t mean to get him caught up in all of that, he’d listened sympathetically to her story of Jason and Charlie and everything that had happened to her in the past year. They’d seen each other a few more times for movies and festivals. Just as friends, but it was nice to have someone other than her mom to do things with and help her get oriented in the city. Everybody needs a patient friend when it’s time to go to IKEA.

This bookcase was the finishing touch on her apartment. Her desk and sewing table were already here, positioned under the south-facing window for the best light. The view wasn’t so bad, actually. High windows around almost the entire perimeter of the room made for plenty of light, and she looked out past flower beds to the sidewalk above, where she could watch people’s feet go by. She’d filled the space with textiles in bright shades of goldenrod, violet, magenta, and jade to brighten the room up even more. And, the rent was cheap enough that she’d be able to afford it on her part-time salary from Lucy after classes started. For now, she’d also picked up a few shifts in the juniors’ department at Nordstrom thanks to her mom.

Heron hadn’t heard from Charlie after graduation, but she exchanged messages every so often with Emma, who told her he was seeing someone new, the daughter of family friends who would be starting at Barnard in the fall. She texted, “I’m sure you can imagine my mother’s delight at such a stellar junior league candidate.”

Heron could indeed imagine. She hoped Charlie was happy. It amazed her to realize she didn’t feel much of anything about the news about him moving on—only a little surprise, given the fervor of his proposal to her at graduation.

From Maggie, who shared an apartment with Bryant halfway between his grad school classes at USC and her student-teaching gig in Torrance, she’d heard Jason’s do-over senior year wasn’t working out quite according to his plans. Thanks largely in part to Bryant having a word with the president of the SOD chapter there, Jason’s membership transfer had been rejected and he was apparently persona non grata at Greek functions. Heron felt mean for laughing when Maggie pointed out that he lacked the social skills to make friends any other way, but it was true and couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.

They finished the bookcase and Dave positioned it against the wall. For now, Heron only had a few of her own novels and books borrowed from the library, but it would be full of schoolbooks soon enough.

“Want to grab some tacos?” Dave asked.

“I would, but I have plans. Rain check? Thanks again for your help.”

“Anytime. See ya.”

Heron tied on her running shoes and headed west from her apartment. Her evening runs often took her to the path around Greenlake, but sometimes she just explored the city streets. This solitary time pounding the sidewalks had become her favorite part of the day. Alone with her thoughts, she liked the company she was in.

Bea

The volume of Ben’s worldly possessions was exactly double the capacity of the pickup truck Bea borrowed from Len. It had only taken them two trips to move everything from his place to her house. The only furniture he’d wanted to keep was a table he made in junior high shop class, which was now in the corner of their guest room playing the part of a nightstand.

They had both wanted to be careful about the decision to live together, making sure it wasn’t only for practical reasons, but with Ben there every night anyway and his landlord dropping hints about a rent increase to keep up with the demand for student housing, it only made sense to do it now, before fall semester started, when they both had time to devote to settling him in.

She was grateful for Sarah’s tough love during her closet clean-out last spring, leaving plenty of room for Ben’s austere wardrobe. Bea cleared her things from half the dresser and knelt to unzip Ben’s suitcase.

“Hold on,” he said, coming up the stairs with an armload of t-shirts on hangers. “I’ll do that. You don’t need to unpack my underwear.”

“Really?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a show of mock coquetry and lowered her voice to a breathy Marilyn Monroe purr. “I thought you liked that.”

“Seriously, Bea, I’ll do it.” He dropped the stack of clothes on the bed and moved to shut the suitcase.

“It’s no bother, I’ll just—oh!” Among the folded boxers, she felt something firm and flat. “Mr. Addison, there seems to be a package in your underpants.”

He sank to the bed with an exasperated sigh. “This is not how I imagined this moment.” The words were muffled, his face buried in his hands. Ben rubbed the back of his head, then slid off the bed, settling on a knee, one hand gently removing hers from the box she’d found in the suitcase and taking it in his own.

“This is a little anticlimactic,” he said. With Bea already kneeling on the floor, now they were simply eye to eye. “Can you stand up or something?”

“No,” she said, trying to keep the corners of her mouth from spreading into a grin. “I’m pretty comfortable where I am.”

“Fine.” He opened the box. Inside, instead of a solitaire, there were two matching bands. They were palladium, a simple design with a channel of small sapphires in hers, a groove in his. “Bea, I know you aren’t into the idea of a traditional marriage or a traditional proposal, so that’s not what I’m asking for. I want us to be partners. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Bea couldn’t keep a straight face anymore, she broke into a grin, then she giggled, stopping herself when she saw a shadow of hurt and doubt flicker across Ben’s face. She couldn’t resist kissing it away.

“I can’t say this is exactly the reaction I anticipated,” he said, “but I’m glad you’re amused.”

“It’s not that. Wait.” She reached up into her top dresser drawer and brought out a small box from the same local jeweler. This one contained two bands made of black tungsten, each set with one tiny lab-created diamond. “I was going to give you these at dinner.”

Now it was Ben’s turn to laugh. He took her head in his hands, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips. “Can I consider that an answer?”

“I suppose.”

Unpacking forgotten while they found each other, raucous laughter rang from the bedroom, surely disturbing the neighbors as boxes and piles of clothes were carelessly shoved aside.

An hour later they were exhausted. The late afternoon sun filtered through the sheer curtains, warming their bare skin.

Ben said, “Oh, shit. Are we engaged?”

“I guess we are.”

“Hmm,” Ben looked thoughtful. “I suppose we can each wear both rings, but whose are the engagement rings and whose are the wedding bands?”

“Yours are the engagement rings, obviously, since you cracked and asked first.”

“I cracked? You were snooping through my things! I had a whole romantic evening planned.”

“Please. Your idea of a romantic evening is using plates for the pizza. I was unpacking your suitcase. Look, I’m already a dutiful wife.”

“Bite your tongue. That’s the last thing I want.”

They had a lot more unpacking to do, the work of settling Ben’s possessions into Bea’s house. Planning to do: a wedding, apparently; their life together. They both needed to get ready for the new school year, too. But it could all wait. She was content to lie here next to him, watching the cat settle into the square of sunlight puddling on the sheet, listening to the breeze ruffle the leaves outside the window, feeling it tickle her skin. Right now, Bea was perfectly happy to stay exactly where she was.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.