Chapter Twelve
Quinn
M om and Lois’s questioning gazes lock on Bram and me more often than I like during the reception, but thankfully, they’re too busy to drill into me. Thank goodness Julie wasn’t able to make it. She wouldn’t be sending me curious and subtle side glances. She’d come right over, plop herself down between us, and demand answers.
Answers that I honestly don’t have. At least, answers that no one will like or even approve of. I’m still reeling from the events of the last few weeks.
In less than two months, I found out my sister is married, I was diagnosed with a life-long disease, and then, I accepted a proposal from a man who doesn’t love me. But to be fair, I’m not in love with him either. Not yet at least. But I’m clinging to Bram’s promise that we can build a real, loving marriage from this situation.
I’ve never been skydiving, but I’m pretty sure this is the point right after you jump out of the plane and you wonder what in the heck you were thinking.
Bram sits beside me, picking at the food on his plate. He’s been quieter than normal. I don’t blame him. My face still burns when I think about my boldness in kissing him. I trace a finger over my lips, trying to recall what I’d felt the moment our lips brushed, but in all honesty, it was so brief and so light—and I was so aware of everyone watching—that I hadn’t allowed myself to be in the moment.
As I make my way toward the refreshments table to refill Bram's and my water glasses, Cyrus corners me. A groan almost escapes my lips, but I bite it back and force a smile, albeit a shaky one. “Hey, Cy. Are you having fun?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s a real party here,” he says, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. Narrowing his eyes, he continues, “So, you and Bram, huh? That’s a bit . . . shocking.”
My smile wobbles as I let out a nervous chuckle. “Really?” I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “I mean, we’ve known each other for years. He’s handsome, kind, and charming.”
Cyrus’s eyebrow raises. “We are talking about the same brother, right? Or did you get him mixed up with me?”
I laugh, but it dies at the look he sends me. There’s a seriousness in his expression that I’m not accustomed to seeing from him. If I couldn’t tell them apart with a glance, I’d think he was Titus right now.
“Are you happy?” His sincere question, along with the care and concern in his voice, startles me.
“I am.” And in a weird way, it’s true. I’m also scared out of my mind, but I’m trusting in God and the man I know Bram to be. Or at least, I’m trying to.
“Good.” Cyrus’s shoulders relax as he turns away. I carry the glasses back to the table where I’m sitting with Bram and his parents. Bram offers me a smile and a quiet thank you as I set the glass down in front of him.
We sip our water in silence, listening to the conversations swirling around us.
A few minutes later, the DJ Lois insisted on hiring opens up with a dance for Lois and Chad. Tears sting my eyes as I watch Chad gazing at Lois with such tenderness. Believe me, I’m still frustrated about Lois eloping, but every time they’re together, I can see their love for one another overflowing.
Bram stiffens, then shifts in his seat. Chancing a glance at him, I notice his jaw is clenched, and he has a white-knuckled grip on his glass. If he doesn’t loosen up, he’s going to break it.
Leaning over, I whisper in his ear, “Are you okay?”
He startles, his grip loosening as he fumbles with his drink, water sloshing over the edge. Muttering something under his breath, he moves his hands away from the glass and turns to me. “Yeah, sorry, Q. I guess I was just in my own world for a minute.”
“It’s okay.” Anxiety coils around me, but I ignore it, stuffing it deep down. “There’s been a lot to think about lately.”
He nods and takes a sip of his water.
Chad and Lois finish their dance, and everyone claps for them. The DJ opens the floor for everyone, and I can’t help but roll my eyes playfully when Cyrus leads one of Lois’s friends to the dance floor. The man never lacks for a date.
I love dancing, but I can’t bring myself to ask Bram if he wants to dance with me. I’m not sure if I even want him to ask me. Just the idea of being in his arms right now sends a ripple of nervousness throughout my body. The awkwardness of our situation has me reeling from confusion to frustration and then to sadness. I no longer know how to act in front of one of my dearest friends.
Maybe Cyrus or Titus will take pity on me later and offer to dance. I stare longingly as couples and friends take to the makeshift dance floor. Is this what I’ve signed up for by agreeing to marry Bram? Never dancing again? Never doing normal couple activities because we aren’t in love?
Part of me knows that I’m being melodramatic. This is brand new for both of us. Still, a rock settles into my stomach, and I rub at the ache in my chest. I’d been so sure earlier—well, maybe not one hundred percent sure, but sure enough to say yes—but now panic and nausea are twisting my gut, and I feel as if I’ll throw up.
After deciding to pray about the proposal, Bram has filled my dreams and every waking thought. I’ve gone through list after list of why he will be a good husband and why marrying someone who I don’t love and who doesn’t love me in return will be the worst mistake of my life.
I hadn’t even decided what I would tell him when we’d arrived at the Baxter’s house earlier this evening. But when I saw Bram with his clean-shaven face and nervous smile, butterflies swooped in my stomach. It’s not that I’m falling for him. It’s the “what-if” that’s lingering in the air around us. It has me looking at him differently. Then, he’d scooped Jovie up, cuddling her and tickling her neck, and my heart softened.
Peace washed over me at that moment, and I knew—however crazy it might seem—somehow this was part of God’s path for me. For us. Even if it terrifies me to my very core to take this leap of faith.
A light touch on my arm startles me out of my thoughts, and my gaze jerks to Bram. “Would you like to dance?” His deep voice rumbles softly, reverberating throughout my chest.
Offering him a smile, I reply, “I’d love to, Bram.”
He takes my hand, leading me onto the dance floor as a slow song begins. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as his gaze settles on me. Drawing me slightly closer to him, he places a hand on my waist. It’s the closest I’ve been to him, and I can’t discern how I feel about it.
A part of me wants to lean closer, but he keeps his posture stiff and several inches of space between us. Not enough to send tongues to wagging, but more space than the song requires. Or me for that matter. It’s like I’m a middle school student all over again. All I’m missing is the awkward headgear and a fresh breakout on my face.
I start to tease him for the space but his eyes are roaming around, taking everything in. Except for me.
My heart plunges, and I start to second-guess myself. Or quadruple-guess myself? I’ve done more than second-guess since I told him yes.
“We can sit down if you’d like,” I whisper to him, earning an eyebrow raise.
“What? Are you not having fun?” Concern softens his face.
“I am if you are.” I smile shyly.
The corner of his lips lifts a little. “I’m sorry, Q. I’ve been a horrible dance partner.”
“No, you haven’t. You actually dance quite well. I just didn’t want you to feel as if you had to dance for my sake.”
“I wanted to dance with you.” His tone is soft as he wraps his arm completely around my waist, tucking me closer to him.
I lower my gaze at the earnestness of his words, my cheeks flaming. My heart is in my throat as we sway to the music. Bram’s embrace is warm and comforting in a way I didn’t expect, and I find myself melting into him as the music fades.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of dancing and laughing. Cyrus ended up cutting in during one of the songs, and though Bram threw him a glare, he allowed Cyrus to sweep me away.
As Cyrus spins me around in an exaggerated move, I notice Titus sitting at one of the tables, brooding, for no apparent reason. He has turned down every woman’s request to dance. After finishing the dance with Cyrus, I search for Jovie. Whispering in her ear, I watch her little face light up at my plan. She marches over to Titus and asks him to dance with her.
I laugh when Titus grunts and stands, just as the slow song stops and a fast one begins. His gaze lands on me, Bram, and Cyrus, and all three of us start cracking up. Titus won’t let Jovie down, and before long, she has him doing the chicken dance until a small smile has finally managed to crack across his face.
If nothing else, I’m going to enjoy being part of the Baxter family.