Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
When the screaming and hugging dies down at the mansion, Shantae interviews Madison. “What are you going to spend your $250,000 prize money on? Maybe a wedding?” Shantae fishes.
Madison smiles brightly and says, “No, not yet, Shantae. This money is much better spent funding more teen centers for my nonprofit.” Then she takes TC’s hand. “But I’d be happy if TC wants to come help me.”
I realize embarrassingly that there are tears leaking from my eyes. I’m just so happy for Madison. She doesn’t have to bartend or model anymore. She can finally do what she finds fulfilling.
And then the irony hits me like an electromagnetic force field. I’m ecstatic for Madison for following her dreams, while Andrew’s same decision has me subsisting on vegan rocky road and watching human-fish love stories.
Cassie must sense the shift in my mood. She squeezes my hand and whispers, “Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m so happy for Madison.” But Cassie just looks at me, patiently waiting for me to try out my newfound vulnerability.
I think about it for a moment and then whisper back, “Do I wish I could’ve walked away from the show in a relationship like Madison and TC?
Yeah, maybe. But I’m also grateful that my experience finally opened my mind to being in a relationship. ”
Cassie gives my hand another squeeze and says, “Me too. I’m proud of you, Grace.”
I squeeze her back. “Thanks, Cass.”
“And who knows, maybe we can double-date sometime,” she says, almost dreamily. I may be paranoid, but I swear her eyes flick toward Matt.
Before I start plotting ways to ship Matt off to Antarctica, I quickly steer the subject back to neutral territory by pulling Ciara into our conversation. “So, C, are you going to take Javi back?”
Ciara grins. “Eventually. But I’ve gotta make him grovel first.”
Cassie looks at Ciara in worship. “You’re my hero.”
I laugh. “You should see her do shots.”
“Did someone say shots?” my mom calls merrily as she walks over with a tray of drinks. She holds up a small cup of pink liquid and says, “This one is called Pink Power.”
Ciara laughs and immediately takes one. Next, my mom motions to a bright red shot. “This one is Right Reasons.” And then she points to a shot glass with some green concoction inside. “And this one is Suck and Blow.”
“Ooh, I’ll try the Suck and Blow in honor of Grace!” Cassie exclaims.
I shake my head. I’ll be glad when the life cycle of my mini-celebrity comes to an end. So will my liver. We all pick our poison, and my mom says, “To Love Shack!”
We all clink glasses and cheer, “To Love Shack!”
After I drink the red fruity shot, I take a moment and look around at all the people who have come together to celebrate me—my friends, coworkers, and family. Everyone here believes in me, supports me, and genuinely wants what’s best for me.
I can’t help but laugh that it took a lame reality show to make me appreciate my actual reality.
Suddenly I hear my mother gasp, and a hush falls over the party. When I look around to see what’s causing this kind of reaction, I almost drop my shot glass.
Because there, standing at the gate, is Andrew.
He’s wearing jeans like the last time I saw him.
But his facial hair is no longer perfectly groomed.
It’s almost a proper beard, and somehow this new but same version of him is even more handsome.
I stand there staring until Jesse nudges me toward him.
“Don’t be weird,” he whispers, shaking his head.
I stumble toward Andrew, aware that an entire backyard of people are watching us.
“Hi,” he says.
“You’re back,” I observe like the perceptive scientist I am.
“I actually never left.”
“What?” I ask at the same time I hear my mom gasp again.
Andrew looks up as if he’s just now noticing he’s crashing a party. “Sorry, I should’ve called first. I was going for a grand gesture, but I think I misfired.” He turns to leave, but I quickly step forward to grab his hand.
“No, it’s fine. Come with me.” I lead him away from all the onlookers—some of whom are staring unabashedly while others attempt to make tactful small talk—and down the side path to my favorite tree on my parents’ property.
It’s a gorgeous old magnolia with a wrought-iron bench beneath it where we sit down.
Andrew looks at me and exhales loudly. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”
I laugh. “It’s only been three days.”
He gives me a shy shrug and my heart, which has been pounding since the second I saw him, kicks it up to double time.
We sit there in a charged silence. I can hear bits and pieces of conversation drifting over from the party, and I try focusing on the smell of the magnolia flowers and the feel of the evening breeze on my bare arms to keep from spiraling about why he’s here right now.
Andrew takes a deep breath before he looks at me again.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left my apartment.
And I knew, if I left, I’d miss talking to you.
And fighting with you. And being inspired by your passion.
” He smiles at me. “I’ve never met anyone willing to humiliate themselves on international TV to save an endangered species before. ”
“To be fair, I didn’t know how humiliating or international it would be.”
He laughs, and the sound bubbles warmly through my bloodstream. “I meant what I said at my apartment. I want to do something that makes a difference. But I realized that there are people everywhere that need help. And that maybe I could make a difference somewhere closer to you.”
My head is spinning. This seems too good to be real. “So . . . you’re not moving to Syria?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not.” I exhale a relieved sigh.
“I wanted to tell you in person that I accepted a new job in LA. It’s for one of the country’s largest immigration law firms,” he continues. “They have a division that helps refugees. I’ll be making sure unaccompanied minors don’t get lost in the system or become victims of human trafficking.”
“Oh wow. That’s amazing and so admirable, Andrew,” I say as I automatically reach for his hand. “I’m really happy for you.”
“Thank you,” he says, looking down at my hand. I’m tempted to move it, but he flips his own over so we can properly hold hands, like he did the day of the hot-air balloon. My breath hitches as my body remembers what it’s like having contact with his.
“You’ll never believe it, but Kristina helped me get the job.”
“What? No way!”
Andrew nods. “She said she felt bad firing me because she could tell that the connection between you and me was real, but her hands were tied. Her uncle is a partner at the law firm. She sent him my résumé and told him he’d be an idiot if he didn’t hire me.”
“Wow, maybe I overestimated her evilness? Or underestimated her humanity?” I say, and Andrew laughs.
“She did have a message she wanted me to give you. She said she was hard on you because she knew you could handle it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs and says, “I think she thought you were up against some of the same discrimination she was.” He must see my confused expression, so he explains: “Kristina started as a PA at the same time as Brett, but somehow he failed up and now has a better title and makes more money than her. She once told me she has to act ‘twice as tough as all these old white guys to make it half as far up the ladder.’ Maybe she assumed it was the same in science?”
Huh. I never stopped to think about it from Kristina’s perspective. Or to wonder whether we might have experiences in common. I nod and feel some of my iciness toward her thaw. “It’s not easy trying to fit into the boys’ club,” I concede. “But she still could’ve been nicer.”
Andrew smiles at me. “I agree.” He’s quiet for a moment as he looks down at our intertwined hands. Then finally he exhales. “I think part of me wanted to run away because I was scared of my feelings for you. How hard and fast I fell for you.”
I don’t respond. Probably because I’ve stopped breathing. I tell my brain to remind my body I need oxygen. I take a forced breath and wait for him to continue.
“Blue told me that presents help with grand romantic gestures, so I brought you something.” His mischievous smirk is full-blown now as he takes something out of his pocket and hands it to me.
I laugh. “A vegan granola bar?”
He nods and there’s sincerity in his voice when he says, “It’s also a promise that while you’re looking out for every person and animal around you, I’ll be the one looking out for you.
Whether you have a sprained ankle from an obstacle course gone wrong or you’re hyperventilating on a hot-air balloon. ”
Then he smiles at me and says, “There’s more.
I practiced this.” I laugh and he continues.
“I also promise to continue working to become a person you’d be proud to be with.
I’ll support you in all your dreams while I chase my own, knowing we’ll both be successful enough to not have to sleep on the floor of a shack.
But even if that’s where we end up, we’ll make it fun because we’ll be together. ”
He pauses to take a breath. “But most importantly, I promise to give us a real shot this time—with the real you and the real me—if you’ll still have me.”
Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined someone saying something so heartfelt and romantic to me. But then again, I didn’t dream about romantic declarations until I met Andrew.
I finally snap out of it and say, “Thank you. For the granola bar. And for everything you just said.” Then, unable to bear not kissing him for another second, I grab his T-shirt to pull him toward me.
The moment our lips meet, I’m transported back to the hot-air balloon and that strange combination of butterflies and peace.
The feeling that this is both exciting and exactly right, the grounding of the present and the promise of the future.
As he deepens our kiss and a tingling warmth envelops me, I know this is it for me.
Eager to make up for all the kissing we haven’t done the past three days, I pull him even closer, running my fingers through his hair and practically crawling onto his lap to eliminate any unnecessary space between us.
But before I’m tempted to do what I really want to do with him, we’re interrupted by catcalls and applause.
We pull apart to see my family and friends cheering from the pathway.
“We have an audience,” he says, laughing as I bury my face in his chest.
“Just when I thought I didn’t have people watching my every move anymore,” I groan. Andrew laughs at this and waves to my family.
“What do you say?” I ask tentatively. “Are you prepared to meet the Lamberts?”
He gives me his biggest smile yet. “I thought you’d never ask.”
I shake my head as I climb off him. “Just, whatever you do, don’t wear any clothing my dad gives you.”