Chapter 42
42
Eleanor
When Carson and I walk through the front doors of Rita’s Diner holding hands, everyone claps.
“What’s going on?” I whisper in Carson’s ear.
“You’ll see,” Carson says.
The entire Ward family is here for a dinner in Ben’s honor. Tatum has gone to great trouble to rent the place out. She’s requested that all of us wear white so we can take a coordinated family photo. It seemed like a risk to me, especially with greasy diner food as our planned meal, but her email was so stern I didn’t dare challenge her.
It doesn’t take long to see that everyone else has neglected this request.
Tatum herself is in green. I lean again toward Carson, ready to share my confusion. How could she miss her own directions? But Carson doesn’t look confused. Carson is actually smiling that familiar, mischievous smile. The one I now know well. It’s the face they make when they’ve put my favorite snack in the fridge for me to find, or they’ve repaired something around our place that they’re waiting for me to notice.
There is something here I am meant to see, and I look around in pursuit of it. While everyone claps and beams at us, I don’t notice anything out of the ordinary, aside from the incorrect color assignment.
Oh, and they’ve cleared out all the center tables in the diner, leaving a sole chair alone in the open space. I assume this is for Ben, though admittedly I don’t know why he needs the seat. Maybe the family will give him birthday gifts for the years they’ve missed, even though his birthday is in October?
“Take a seat,” Carson tells me, gesturing to the chair.
“Why would I sit there?” I ask.
“Because I’m about to ask you a question.”
This is not for Ben. This is for me . And the closer I look, the more I realize that the booths aren’t just filled with the Wards. First I see a table of my coworkers from the park district, where I’ve been in charge of publicity for the last few months. We’re opening our first show next weekend. They wave at me, beaming and offering fist pumps.
“What’s going on?” I ask again, hoping maybe they will be the ones to answer this time.
“C’mon, let it happen!” someone calls out.
Then I see her, in the back booth, sitting next to Tatum and June.
“ Dawn ,” I say in disbelief. “You’re supposed to be on the set of the next Guy Cicero movie!”
“Not now, sweetie,” she replies. “We’ll talk after.”
I take my seat in the chair that’s for me, where I now know what question Carson will ask. Of course I know. We have lived together for months. We have even discussed this.
But never, in all my years, did I imagine this is how they would do it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” they start, speaking to me and also to the room at large. “You’re wondering about this choice of format. Because you and I, well, we’re pretty low-key.”
I laugh through tears, shaking so hard I can’t settle into my seat. My mind keeps looping on my own disbelief. That Carson could love me enough to want to marry me. That the other people care enough to be here for it.
“But the thing is, Eleanor, the day you came into my life, you also came into my entire family’s life. And while the love we share is ours, you are loved by so many more people than me. And I didn’t want to leave any of those people out for this moment.”
Laney wheels in a canvas covered with a tarp.
“I want you to know I love you out loud. I want you to remember I will love you through every season. No matter how many scuffs my car has from curbs you underestimated.” This gets a big laugh from the crowd. “I want you to know I will be with you through it all. And mostly I want you to know that my love is bigger than myself. You are loved by everyone in this room, and while I’m the only sucker lucky enough to get to ask you to marry me, you’re also signing up for a lifetime of pestering from the people in this room. So, Eleanor Elizabeth Chapman, what do you say? Do you want to be a Ward with me?”
They take the tarp off the painting, which is not actually a painting at all. It’s a giant card, filled with handwritten messages from every family member. They’re all notes of admiration, listing my best traits, my coolest features. Everything they love about me. All the reasons I should say yes.
As if there is any other answer.
I look to Carson in awe. To be loved with such steadiness is to know I can fall apart here. I can sob, snotty and shaking. I can crumple into a ball, then stand up again, smoothing down my white pants, rising to meet their question. I can accept this marriage proposal.
Because this is not a love that will ever quit on me.
This love is my home.