Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Evie
Sam arrives on my doorstep just before nine the next morning.
She’s bright-eyed and her long dark hair is pulled into a high ponytail. She’s got her pink Jerry’s Diner uniform on and is clearly on a tight timeline because she brushes past me and starts talking.
“I have exactly ten minutes before I have to be at work to cover for Michelle, so you need to start talking.” She paces right over to Charlie, who’s buckled into his highchair and kicking his little legs while he chews a slice of peach, and kisses his head.
“I… am engaged?” I’m still dazed by this information, so it comes out sounding like a question.
She whips around. “Apparently, you are.” Her eyes widen.
I don’t want to admit this, but I need to talk it out.
“He found me when I was freaking out about Trevor. He suggested I get married, to which I said yes, that would be ideal, and then he said, ‘Marry me.’ And of course I said, ‘That’s crazy,’ but he insisted it would strengthen my case.
He talked to Davis about it, and he agreed. And so…” I shrug.
“Oh, honey.” She closes the distance between us right as my eyes fill with tears.
I cling to her, realizing how much I needed this hug.
“He’s just...” I sniffle and shake my head, dabbing at my eyes when we pull back. “He’s infuriatingly wonderful.”
She grins sympathetically. “I’m engaged to his brother, so trust me. I fully get that. I think that’s another Ryan family motto.”
We share a laugh, then turn to give Charlie our attention as he signs for more fruit. He’s so precious. Even with the angst I feel about Declan, my heart bursts for my baby.
“What can I do?”
I sigh. “I don’t even know. Probably nothing.” But then it occurs to me to ask, “Wait, are you working Monday?”
“Yes. I’m doing full days Monday and Tuesday this week, then shorter shifts because I have classes the rest of the week.” Her grin spreads wide across her face.
“The new semester started already? That’s awesome! I’m so glad Jerry’s working with your schedule. Though I’m honestly surprised Grant hasn’t told you to quit and just focus on school.”
Her bossy fiancé is just like the rest of his family—well off. I don’t know everything about the Ryan family finances, but seeing the homestead last night and with the Ryan name plastered on all kinds of buildings and placards in town, I have to guess Grant’s salary isn’t the only source of income.
The same could probably be said for Declan, which makes my stomach twist. Did it look like I was gold digging, being with him? Is that why his family was upset? Obviously, the timeline was jarring, but maybe they’re worried I’m only with him for his money?
I don’t even know what his money is, though, and I’d like to believe they wouldn’t think so low of me.
“Grant has made it clear that if I want to stop working, he’ll support me in any way I want, up to and including paying my tuition and everything. But he also knows what I’ve been through, so having a man tell me I can’t work wasn’t going to fly.”
I clap my hands together, which Charlie mimics. “Wise woman. And good man. I just hope you won’t work yourself too hard trying to stay at the diner and do library stuff and school.”
She chuckles. “Says the single mom who works a full-time job.”
I wave that away.
“So wait, what’s Monday?”
The nerves crash back down when I remember. “Oh. Well. Mary Ryan asked me to meet her for lunch at Jerry’s.”
I thought I was nervous walking into the Ryan household on Friday night, but it’s nothing like approaching Jerry’s Diner knowing Mary Ryan is waiting to have lunch with me one-on-one.
The same Mary Ryan who loves her children deeply and was less than impressed when she found out we planned to have a courthouse wedding this week.
I have talked through everything I can think of in terms of questions she’ll have and responses I can say. What I cannot say is, “Your son is marrying me so I can keep my son from his awful, abusive father.”
There’s a very real possibility she’s going to tell me to leave her son alone.
She’ll see right through our sham engagement, right through to the heart of me and know I’m not good enough for her doctor son.
She’s never given me any reason to suspect this, but I shuffle into the bright pink, bustling diner prepared to be absolutely skewered.
Which is why I’m caught completely off guard when Jerry nods to where Mary stands from a rose pink two-person booth and beams at me.
She’s in her sixties and lovely. Warm. Crow’s feet from smiling and red-gray hair I suspect was the same vibrant color as May’s at some point. She’s dressed stylishly in nicer jeans than I’ve ever owned and a casual white top with a marigold yellow cardigan hanging open.
She’s just so effortlessly polished.
And she’s opening her arms like she wants to greet me with a hug.
I’m on autopilot now, returning her embrace and internally frozen to any impression except a resounding “what is happening?” rushing through my brain like a reservoir bursting an old dam.
“Thank you so much for meeting me, Evie. I’m sure your lunch hour is a respite from the madness of the clinic.” She tucks her paper napkin in her lap.
“It’s not so bad. The clinic, I mean. I do like my lunch break, though.” My smile is forced. Hers seems natural and curious, and then I remember I need to sell this with everything I’ve got, so I rush to add, “Declan and I eat together sometimes.”
“I’m glad. And that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about, if you don’t mind getting right to it.”
My palms are instantly hot, and my volume control is off when I say, “Oh, sure.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I’m pretty sure I can see Sam’s head turn to look at me. So, definitely a touch too loud.
Mary stretches out her hand and waits. My heart gallops in my chest, but I reach forward and place mine in hers. She grasps it firmly, then pins me with her bright blue gaze.
“I need to tell you that you cannot marry my son in a courthouse this Friday.”
My lungs seize. The clamor of the diner becomes cotton in my ears, or maybe I’ve slipped underwater.
I realize two things instantly.
First, I have to marry Declan. I’ve quickly begun to pin my hopes on looking like a better mom with more secure finances and a stable home because I’m married to him. Will be married to him.
And second, I deeply want this woman’s approval, and her utter rejection of me in such simple terms is absolutely gutting me.
“Are you okay, Evie, darling?” Mary’s hand tightens on mine.
My lungs restart and I huff out a rough exhale, but my eyes are shining and there’s no way she misses it.
Here’s where she’ll tell me the ways I’m not good enough. And I can’t even refute her. Here’s the moment where everything Trevor’s mother said to me circles back around and I see that even though Declan is nothing like Trevor, I’m just not the kind of woman you bring home to your mom.
To your family.
“No, no, honey, no! I don’t mean—” Mary drops my hand and dashes around to slide into the booth next to me.
My eyes are glued to the blue jeans I wore. Should I have worn a sundress? Slacks? I—
“Look at me, Evie.”
Her tone is gentle, but firm. I have no choice but to raise my head, cheeks burning with embarrassment and shame.
“My darling, I said that in the worst way. I want you to marry Dec if that’s what you two want. But I can’t have you marrying in a courthouse.”
My lip is trembling now, so when I speak, it’s watery and weak. “I don’t understand.”
One of her soft, warm hands cups my cheek. “I want you to have a real wedding. No courthouse. Let’s get Charlie a little suit and let Lily and Poppy pull him down the aisle in a little red wagon.”
A red… “A wagon?”
Her face brightens. “Yes! And we’ll get you a dress, and flowers, and I don’t have to tell you how handsome Declan will look in a suit.”
She raises our hands together and it’s not until this second I recognize the pleading in her expression and tone.
So this is not about me not being up to standard?
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I would so love to throw you and Declan a wedding.
You choose the guests and you get to decide as much as you want, but I just—” She sniffs, a bright smile on her face, but her eyes are a touch wet.
“After Connor’s heart attack, I just want to celebrate every moment we have together.
I promise, no mother-of-the-groom-zilla or anything.
I just want to celebrate you and have a moment for our family to do that, too. ”
I laugh, but I’m crying, too. Tears are absolutely streaming down my face because I am once again blown away that I get to be a part of this family, even for a little while.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Evie. I should’ve realized how it sounded. Can you forgive me?” She’s clutching my hands between hers like a prayer.
And I grin, because I’m this odd version of heartbroken and elated once again thanks to a member of the Ryan family.
“Of course I forgive you.”
“And will you let us throw you a wedding?”
I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, but there’s only one answer. “Yes.”