Chapter Thirty-Nine
Jessica
Mama smiled when I came downstairs with Ruthie the next morning.
“Are you officially engaged?”
I held up my left hand to show her the ring.
My mom grabbed my hand to examine it closer. “Wow, that’s even more beautiful than your father described. Do you think it’s real?”
I hadn’t thought of that.
Hang on, does she mean the ring or the proposal?
I was going to guess the ring.
“I don’t know? He said we could exchange it if I didn’t like it.”
“Then it’s probably real.”
I moved my hand around so the stone caught the hanging light in the entryway. “It looks real.”
But part of me hoped it wasn’t. If the diamond was genuine, it probably cost more than a nice, used car. Alan was already doing enough for me and Ruthie; I didn’t want him to spend that kind of money on my ring.
Honestly, I hadn’t even thought about a ring. Not only had I not been expecting an actual proposal, but the effort he’d put into it had surprised me.
It had almost felt genuine—until he apologized for kissing me again and came up with a reason we could give when we filed for divorce.
And, that ended that.
I guess it was good he kept me in check.
Except when it was coupled with the two kisses we’d shared, it kind of felt like whiplash.
“Did you pick a date?”
“Two weeks from tomorrow.”
Her brows furrowed, and she said, “I don’t think we can reserve the church on such short notice.” Then she let out a small sigh. “Although it’s probably just as well, considering...”
Considering what? I wasn’t marrying Kevin, or I was a sinner?
Probably both.
I was glad she wasn’t going to insist on a church wedding. If it was at the church, I’d have to invite the elders—including Kevin. I didn’t imagine that would go well.
There was a soft knock on the front door, and I glanced at my watch: a quarter to eight, right on time.
I opened the door to find Alan looking too darn good with damp hair and a freshly-shaved face. He had on medium-blue Levi’s, the bluish-grey lace-up sneakers he’d been wearing all week, and the Henley I’d dumped cinnamon rolls on the first day we met.
“Good morning,” I said with a shy smile as I gestured to his shirt when he walked through the door. “I thought for sure that was ruined.”
He glanced down at the front, then looked up at me with a grin. “Nope. I just threw it in the washer, and it came out as good as new.” I could tell the moment he noticed Mama, because he leaned down and kissed my cheek, then said, “Hi, Carol. How are you this morning?”
He smelled clean, like soap and a hint of cologne, and I restrained myself from burying my face into his chest.
“I’m great, Alan, thank you. How are you?”
He glanced at me with a grin as he said, “Never better.”
A hint of a smile ghosted Mama’s lips, then she looked at me and said, “Have a nice day; I’ll see you later,” before turning and walking toward the kitchen.
A thought hit me, would Alan expect me to do his laundry once we were married? I know Mama washed, ironed, and folded my dad’s clothes, on top of all the other things she did to keep the house running.
I racked my brain thinking of all the ways we depended on my mom.
Oh my god. I don’t even know how to iron! I have no idea how to be a wife!
This felt like the perfect time to have a panic attack.
Alan’s brows drew together when he looked at me. Without a word, he reached down and picked up Ruthie’s diaper bag and put the strap over his shoulder before grabbing the car seat. Then he put his hand firmly on the small of my back and ushered me toward the door.
“Let’s go.”
****
Alan
I opened the rear passenger door and dropped the diaper bag on the floor then placed Ruthie in the backseat. But I didn’t bother to strap her in before reaching for Jessica and pulling her into my arms.
I took a deep breath, and she mimicked it. I did it again as I ran my hand up and down her spine. After a minute, I felt her body relax as she melted into me.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
She stiffened again at the question, and her shoulders shook before she bit out on a sob, “I’m going to be a terrible wife!”
“Aw, no you’re not. Why would you say that?”
“What if I ruin your clothes?”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I laid my cheek against the top of her head.
“I’m going to need some context, sweetheart.”
“I don’t know anything about being a wife! I don’t even know how to iron!” she wailed.
“I’m a Marine, baby. I’ll do the ironing. Everything else, we’ll figure out together.”
“How? I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never been married before!”
I hugged her tighter. “I’ve never been married before, either. But think about it, you’d never been a mom, and look how great you are at it.”
She huffed out a laugh as she pulled away and swiped under her eyes. “I don’t know about great…”
I wanted to reach for her again but put my hands in my pockets instead.
“I do. You’re amazing with Ruthie. You make everything look so easy. You want to talk about being worried… I’ll never measure up as a parent compared to you.”
Her face contorted before she burst into tears again. “You’re going to be Ruthie’s dad!”
I felt my stomach drop to my feet.
“Is that bad? I mean, I won’t try to replace her father.”
“No, it’s not bad! Jon—her sperm donor—won’t even acknowledge she’s his.”
That motherfucker.
I immediately wanted to find him and break every bone in his body, then I realized… “Good. His loss is my gain.”
My chest swelled when she murmured, “You’re going to be a much better dad than he could have ever been.”
Damn straight.
Then she started crying again. “And then we’re going to get divorced, and she won’t have a dad again!”
I grabbed her biceps and bent my knees, so I was eye-level with her.
I wanted to make sure she was looking in my eyes when I told her, “No matter what happens between us, I’m not going to abandon Ruthie.
Period.” I released her arms and stood up straighter.
With a grin, I continued, “And who knows; maybe we’ll want to stay married. ”
I’d bought myself a little bit of time last night when we agreed not to get divorced until she at least finished her degree.
If I couldn’t get her to fall in love with me in three years, I didn’t deserve to be her husband.