Chapter 28 #2
I go in first and I hear Rylan follow me. I head for the same living room we used when I was here the other night. Rylan’s head is on a swivel, taking in the fancy decor, crown molding, expensive artwork, and velvet drapes. We take a seat on the Victorian era–looking couch.
“Holy shit,” Rylan says under his breath. I cough, hoping Clayton didn’t catch that.
Clayton crosses his ankle over his knee, eyeing me and my son like he’s not sure how we ended up here. “Explain.”
So I do. I tell him why Papaw did it and what he did today to make amends. I tell him that I’m trying to find Mary London and make sure she’s okay.
“I’m sick of this feud between our families, sir. It’s not productive. In fact it’s destructive. As a father myself, I want to teach my son to be better than the generation before us. I can’t, in good conscience, let this feud go on any longer. But I need your help with that.”
Clayton drops his foot and leans forward. “Are you staying in Heaven?”
My brain whirls, confused with the subject change. “Yes.”
“You own a business?”
“Yes, sir. I had a very successful business outside Atlanta for fifteen years. I moved back here, but I’ll have my business up and running just as well in a year or two.”
Clayton purses his lips. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”
“To marry her. If she’ll still have me.”
Rylan elbows me. “Nice, Dad! I’ve been wanting a mom forever.”
I look over at my son. “You have?”
He shrugs. “I mean, yeah. Moms are cool. They bake cookies and give hugs and take care of bullies by talking to their mamas.”
My heart, the one I kept boarded up as a construction site, never to be remodeled, softens.
“That sounds like my Mary London,” Clayton says softly.
Rylan turns to him with a grin. “You should have seen her. She got all fired up and the look in her eye was wild, man! Next thing you know, those kids were giving me head nods of respect in the hallways. Mary London’s the shit!”
“Rylan,” I mutter, groaning inwardly.
But Clayton’s severe frown turns into a grin, astonishing us all. “She is, isn’t she?”
The moment hangs there, my son and Clayton having a bonding moment. Then Clayton coughs and turns his attention back to me.
“You think she’ll say yes?”
Nerves fire off in my belly. “I hope to God she does.”
Clayton nods. “Ophelia scared the dickens out of me when I proposed. She didn’t smile at first. She just lifted an eyebrow like she was judging my character. She obviously said yes, but I think a dose of fear of fucking things up is healthy in a relationship.”
Oh, I feel the fear, all right. “I want you to approve of our marriage, Clayton. Mary London doesn’t need your acceptance, but I know she’d like it.”
He stands, and for a second, I think he might kick me out. “I’ll be right back.”
When he exits the room, Rylan turns to me with an open mouth and mischievous eyes. “You think that painting over there is real?”
I look at the one over the fireplace. “Pretty sure it is, bud.”
“Holy shit,” he breathes again.
I elbow him and he cackles. It cuts off the second Clayton steps into the room. He walks right over to me and drops a black box in my hand. I look up at him in confusion. He nods, then steps back. I open the box and nearly choke on my own spit.
A large diamond winks from a gold band, catching every fragment of light in this room and shooting it off in the form of rainbows on the walls.
“Holy shit!” Rylan bellows.
I snap to my feet and shut the box. Now’s not the time, but I really do have to have a conversation with Rylan about the appropriate times to curse. “What is this, sir?”
Clayton sucks in a deep breath, like this whole conversation pains him.
“That’s the ring my Lia wore. I know Mary London would love to wear it too.
” He holds up his hand when I try to give it back to him.
“It’s not charity, Price. I’m not giving it to you because I don’t think you can afford something better.
It would mean the world to my daughter to wear her mama’s ring. ”
I have to roll my lips inward to keep from snapping at the man. My pride is bucking like a wild horse wanting to maintain his freedom. I don’t need this pretentious guy to give me a ring. I can get Mary London a diamond she’d be proud to wear.
But I also meant what I said.
It’s time to put this petty feud behind us. It’s time for me to make better choices. The ridiculous nature of Papaw’s actions has shown me how dumb this whole thing is. And it stops with me.
Mary London adored her mama. Probably grew up trying on this very ring, dreaming of a day she could wear it. I’d be an asshole to deny her of that dream. My pride is not more important than her dream.
So I swallow hard. Hold my head high and look this man straight in the face.
“Thank you, sir. I’d be honored if Mary London said yes and slid this ring on her finger.”
Clayton holds out his hand and I take it. For the first time in decades, a Price and a Winthrop shake hands, putting the past behind them where it belongs.