Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alan
Jessica gave me her dad’s number, and I managed to catch him on his lunch break. After a brief chat, he was surprisingly receptive to meeting with me and even invited me to dinner at his house that evening.
My future wife seemed surprised. “He invited you to dinner?”
Holy shit I’m going to have a wife. And baby girl.
I fucking loved the idea.
Jess had just finished nursing Ruthie, so I took the baby and gently patted her back as I swayed back and forth on my feet.
“Yeah, at first he said to be there at six—apparently he thought Kevin was giving you a ride after work tonight. But after I let him know I was bringing you and Ruthie home, he just said he’d see me then.”
“He didn’t argue with you about driving us?”
“No, why?”
“Because he specifically told me last night that Kevin was bringing me home.”
Interesting.
“Well, I’m bringing you guys home—end of story. I told your dad we’d bring dessert—probably no wine though, huh?”
“No wine at the Bradbury house; although my father does enjoy Bud Light, but that’s his dirty little secret that he wouldn’t want anyone to know about.”
“Then we’ll just bring the pie.”
“We?”
“Yeah—you and me are a ‘we’ now. Or we’re going to be.”
“Did you say ‘we’ when you talked to my dad?”
“Probably.”
I could see her wheels turning as she slowly nodded her head.
“Why? Is that bad?”
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
“Hey, guys!” Lainey walked in the office, holding Conor. “Look who’s here!”
“Oh!” Jess held her finger out for Conor to grip. “Is this your son?”
Lainey beamed. “This is my little guy!”
The baby gave Jessica a toothless grin, causing her to gush, “You are so handsome.”
“He’s a little flirt,” Lainey corrected. “You should see how shameless he’s been with Adam and Alan’s parents.”
I heard my mother’s voice say, “He’s just being charming,” before my parents appeared in the office doorway. At the sight of Ruthie in my arms, both broke out into huge smiles.
****
Jessica
“You must be Jessica!” Alan’s mom exclaimed before pulling me into an awkward hug. “We’ve heard so much about you!”
“You have?”
I looked Lainey’s way, hoping for an explanation. She just shrugged.
Alan spoke up. “I told them I was going to ask you out, so naturally they were curious.”
“You’re even more beautiful than he told us,” Mrs. Callahan gushed as she pulled away, then gripped both my hands in hers.
I tried to hide my smile as I glanced down at our entwined fingers.
“Thank you. I still have twenty-five pounds of baby weight to lose.”
“You don’t need to change a fucking thing,” Alan interjected.
“Language!” his mom admonished, then tugged me closer to her so she could whisper, “But he’s right. Although I’m sure you’re beautiful whatever weight you choose to be.”
She let go of my hands with a kind smile.
Whatever weight I choose to be.
That was a concept I hadn’t considered before. It seemed like everyone had an opinion on my figure—including Kevin the other night at dinner. It was just a foregone conclusion that I’d work on losing weight.
I’d never stopped to think about if that’s what I wanted.
After I pondered it for a second, I realized it was.
“I’d like to be able to fit into my old clothes, so I can stop wearing yoga pants and hand-me-down clothes from the ladies at church.”
Alan offered, “You could always buy new clothes.”
“I can’t afford new clothes.”
He paused to eye me up and down before responding. “We’ll talk about that later. And for the record, I like your yoga pants.”
“Oh-kay!” His mom clapped her hands as if to say, “We’re changing the subject!” She reached over to stroke Ruthie’s arm as Alan continued to burp her. “And this must be your daughter.”
I couldn’t help but smile as I looked at my little girl.
“That’s Ruth Margaret Bradbury.”
“Oh, what a beautiful name!”
Alan looked over at me and smiled. “I like Ruth Margaret Callahan better.”
So did I.
****
Alan
After Ruthie fell asleep, I walked into the bakery where Adam sat with Lainey, Conor, and my parents.
I’d barely sat down when my brother leaned his elbows on the table and hissed. “You’re getting married?”
I shot Lainey a dirty look, and she defensively replied, “It’s your own fault. You can’t say ‘I like Ruth Margaret Callahan’ in front of your parents and not expect them to have questions.”
My father was sitting directly across from me with furrowed brows and quietly asked, “What’s going on, Son?”
“I’m going to ask Jess to marry me after I meet with her parents tonight.”
I expected questions from both my parents, but the first one out of my mom’s mouth was, “Do you have a ring?”