Chapter 33 Marlowe ~ Summer #2
“I’ve come to realize something over these last few months,” he went on, his voice low. “I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to spend the rest of it with you. And I can’t lie to you. I hope someday this happens to us, too.” Brad smiled, slightly sheepish.
Everything went still—the baby, the air, her own heartbeat. Then warmth spread through her chest.
“I never thought I’d say this,” Marlowe whispered, “but I feel the same way.”
She hadn’t planned to open that door. But it was true.
And her love for him felt too big, too real to be kept to herself.
Ever since Holly had started chatting endlessly about her “little brother,” Marlowe’s heart had softened in ways she hadn’t expected.
She loved her independence, but lately she’d begun to imagine something more.
“I love my life in Charlevoix,” she said quietly. “And I can imagine having a family here. Kids who get to swim in the lake, like we did. They’ll ride bikes into town, where everybody knows them. Well, except for the tourists.”
Brad’s hand found hers again. “That sounds perfect.”
She looked at him then, really looked at him. With his patience and kindness, he wasn’t flashy or dramatic. He was solid. He was home.
“Marlowe Quinn, will you marry me?”
The question flowed over her, unexpected but welcome. “Yes, definitely yes.”
The poor guy looked so relieved. “Thank goodness. I was afraid you’d think this was crazy right now.”
Their kiss was full of promise. How wonderful that they both had come to this realization at the same time. They stayed outside until fireflies winked among the trees. Somewhere down by the water, a loon called, low and haunting. But this time another loon answered and Marlowe smiled.
When they finally stood to leave, Brad helped her carefully down the steps and to his car. The drive back toward Charlevoix was hushed and peaceful. The headlights cut through soft pockets of fog rising from the fields.
“I was thinking,” he said, glancing over at her, “about rings.”
“Rings?” Marlowe had rested her left hand on her stomach and now she glanced down. How would she feel becoming engaged while she was pregnant? But if it didn’t matter to Brad, then it wouldn’t matter to her either.
He smiled. “What kind would you like?”
She laughed softly. “Oh, I don’t know. Nothing fussy. You know me.”
“Simple,” he said. “But elegant. Like forget-me-nots.”
“Yes, exactly.” She smiled, running her hand over her swelling tummy.
They didn’t talk much after that. The hum of the tires on the pavement filled the car, the rhythm soothing her. She felt the baby stir again, a tiny kick against her ribs. “Oof. He can be so active.”
“Maybe our news woke him up,” Brad said, smiling.
“He likes the sound of your voice,” she teased.
“Well, don’t tell Skipper.”
When they reached Sunnycrest, the big house stood quiet in the moonlight. The front porch light was on. Marlowe wondered if anyone would be waiting. She didn’t know if she wanted to share her news.
Brad walked her up to the door, his hand resting lightly at her back. In his other hand was the risotto. She turned to him. “Thank you for tonight.”
He brushed his fingers against her cheek. “Thank you for letting me be part of this.”
“Let you?” Was he kidding? “You’ve been a wonderful support. Don’t know if I could have done this without you.”
“I was afraid you’d hide away.”
“What? Oh no, never.”
She wanted to tell him how much his encouragement had meant to her, but the words might bring her to tears.
Marlowe turned teary so easily now and she didn’t want to cry tonight.
Instead, she kissed him softly, took the box with the risotto and stepped inside.
It was becoming really hard to say goodbye to Brad.
But now they had their promise and Marlowe hugged it to her heart.
When and how would she tell the family her news? Maybe she’d wait for the ring.
She paused in the foyer, one hand resting on her belly. Glancing into the mirror she smiled at her reflection. When had she ever looked this happy? The baby kicked, firm and sure, as if agreeing with her private thoughts.
“Oh, you liked him too, huh?” she whispered, smiling. Uncle Brad. She liked that. The words held a good, strong ring, just like Brad.
After leaving the risotto in the refrigerator, she made her way upstairs and into her room.
Thank goodness Sam’s door was closed and so was Aunt Cate’s.
It would have been too hard to keep this news to herself.
Marlowe quietly closed the door behind her and draped the shawl over a chair.
She almost hated to slip out of this magical dress, but she was ready for bed.
Getting into her extra large gray running pants and T-shirt felt wonderful.
The moonlight streamed through the window, falling on the white fabric of her dress where it hung over the back of the chair. This dress marked the beginning of something she couldn’t quite name yet. Looking at her left hand, she could hardly believe what had happened that evening.
Marlowe rolled into bed carefully, ending up on her back. She cupped her hands over her stomach. The baby moved again, as if nudging her.
“Your mom and dad can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered. “And maybe, someday, I’ll have a little boy just like you.”
She closed her eyes, smiling into the quiet room.
The lake wind whispered through the pines outside. She wasn’t the new girl in town. Not anymore. This was where she belonged. Marlowe felt like she fit in the town.
The baby kicked again, as if to agree.
“Goodnight, little dude,” she murmured. “Can’t wait to meet you.”