22
Annie
This is my life now. Apply for jobs. Talk to Brandon. Play piano. Talk to Brandon. And I couldn’t be happier.
I never thought Brandon was much of a talker.
I once joked that he was so sparing with his words that he acted like each one took a week off his life.
Now he’s downright garrulous, and I love it.
It feels like I cracked the code to a treasure safe, and my reward is all of Brandon’s stories and thoughts and sweet comments.
He is seriously so fun to talk to. I love hearing what he’s thinking about—even more so because I know I’m one of the few people who gets a glimpse inside his mind.
Late one night as we video chat, he asks how I’m feeling about Jack. “Honestly, just stupid. You know, I mainly dated him because I was tired of waiting for you.”
His eyes get wide. “Wait, what?”
“I had dropped so many hints . . . I thought you were interested, but then you never asked me out. And then Jack showed up . . .”
He looks away for a moment. “Oh yeah, your birthday. I’ve regretted not going swimming with you pretty much every day since.”
“And then, remember the night of the Ex-Lax debacle? I was this close to ending things with him because I wanted to date you, but you made it pretty clear you weren’t interested.”
“But I was!”
“Maybe, but I overheard what you said to Pepper.” I hesitate, embarrassed. “I was coming back to your place—I didn’t mean to eavesdrop . . .”
“Oh no!” Brandon groans. “What did I say?”
“That you thought I was nice and all, but that you would never want to date me.”
“‘That I would never want to’—I didn’t mean that! Annie, if you only knew how much I’ve wanted—I just said it to stop Pepper from pulling all her pranks.”
“I was hoping you didn’t mean it,” I say, smiling at his confusion and the desperate look on his face. “But at the time, I believed you. Then you came for me on the mountain—and that kiss . . . it changed everything. And it felt like maybe you were interested in being more than friends.”
His smile is a beautiful thing. “Definitely.”
I’m not sure how he does it, but Brandon packs so much meaning into one word. Definitely is one of the swooniest things anyone has ever said to me.
***
“Hi!” He sounds a little nervous when he video-calls the next evening.
“Hi!” We stare at each other for a moment smiling.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re beautiful?” he says.
“You did . . . this morning.”
“It’s still true.” I worried at first that all the sweet compliments Brandon gave me while he was sick would disappear as he got better. But he’s recovering rapidly, and the compliments haven’t let up.
“That’s good to hear. I didn’t have time to do my hair before my shift. There was this guy who called this morning, and I spent all my time talking to him.”
“That jerk!”
“Yeah, well, he’s kind of cute.”
“Cute, huh?”
“Normally he’s straight up handsome. But when he’s sick and talking nonsense, he’s really cute.”
“Well um . . . Pepper’s sleeping over at my mom’s tonight. So we can talk.”
“This sounds serious.”
“It is a little. Do you mind?”
I shake my head.
“I never talk about Daphne. But I want to tell you—I need you to understand me.”
“I’m listening.”
“Are you comfortable? It’s a long story.”
“I’m in my bed, and I have snacks. Talk away.”
“I met Daphne in college. She was a sophomore and I was a junior, and from the moment we met, I was absolutely smitten.” I feel a pang of jealousy.
I wish Brandon had felt that way about me when we first met.
But Daphne was his great love, and I remind myself that I have no right to compare our stories.
“You, smitten? I can’t imagine.”
“You, of all people, should be able to imagine it.”
“But you’re always so serious.”
“I’m not that different from you, Annie.
I’ve always been a bit of a hopeless romantic.
I was just more open about it when I was younger.
Also, back then, I had no problem using money to buy over-the-top gifts.
For her twenty-first birthday, I bought twenty-one dozen roses and filled her apartment.
I think Daphne was smitten, too—or at least in love with the idea of being in love. ”
“Ah. I know all about that. . . .”
“Yeah, you would,” he says with affection. “I was moving to London for grad school immediately after graduation, and we hated the idea of being separated. We were young and in love. So we decided to get married.”
“Wait—I need to know. How did you propose?”
“It wasn’t anything special. A couple days after we decided to get married, I took her on a walk in some woods near campus. The fall colors were at their peak.”
“Good, good, I can picture it all. And did you get down on one knee?”
“Of course,” he sounds a little offended. “And I gave her my grandmother’s ring. But it was a pearl instead of a diamond. That’s the first thing I got wrong.”
“Wrong? So far, this is the perfect proposal—and I’m very picky about proposals. But I suppose everyone likes different things.”
“It wasn’t what Daphne wanted. She wanted a showy proposal in a public place, but I thought it would be more special with just the two of us.”
“Oh. I would have loved the woods and the fall colors. She didn’t like that?”
“No. It seems like such a small thing—couples don’t need to feel the same way about everything—but looking back, that was an early sign that we weren’t as compatible as I thought.”
I’m quiet for a moment. This is the first time Brandon has ever told me that his marriage to Daphne wasn’t perfect. I’ve always imagined theirs as some kind of great love story, but maybe the truth is more complicated.
Brandon continues, “Daphne always brought up the proposal when we went to counseling. She said I never asked her what she would like. And she had a point; I totally botched it. At the very least I should have found out what sort of ring she wanted. She hated my grandma’s.”
“I can understand her wanting something different. But so far, your proposal checks all my boxes: private, sentimental, and heartfelt.”
“Duly noted,” Brandon says, laughing. Brandon laughs a lot during our phone calls. It makes me feel like an absolute enchantress, how often I can make him laugh.
“So you proposed . . . then what?”
“We went shopping and got her the ring she wanted. Daphne adored wedding planning with my mom. She was invested in every detail. And I was happy that she was happy. We had a huge June wedding, straight out of the pages of a bridal magazine.” I already know all of this because of my early snooping when I found their announcement in the wedding section of the New York Times. I can picture it all.
“Okay, so you got married and moved to England. Sounds like a dream.”
“It was my dream. I thought everything was perfect, but I should have thought more about how Daphne felt. I loved the challenge of business school. And whenever I met up with friends or classmates, they were charmed with Daphne. But she was not so charmed with the U.K. In the States, she had a job and her own group of friends. But in Oxford, she struggled to connect with mine or make friends of her own. It was too hard to get a work visa, so she couldn’t work in England and was bored and cooped up. I realize now that she was depressed.”
“Oh, the poor thing. She must have been so lonely.”
“I know, and I . . . I didn’t see it. It was her idea to start a family, and since money wasn’t an issue . . .” The uncomfortable look on his face makes me smile. I love how humble he still is about his wealth.
“Brandon, I know you’re fabulously wealthy,” I say with a smile. “Once you bought Norland Park, the cat was out of the bag.”
“I guess so. But I was different back then. I kind of flaunted my money—not on purpose exactly, but just because that’s what my friends did.
Daphne loved the more jet-set lifestyle and the way things were when we were dating.
She thought that was what our married life would be like.
Instead, she ended up in a lonely flat in Oxford where it rained all the time. ”
“That honestly sounds like heaven,” I say dreamily.
“Yes, well, not everyone has your love for inclement weather,” he says, smiling at me fondly. I blush, remembering my fateful hike in the rain.
“Before we knew it, Pepper was on her way. And for a little bit, I think Daphne was happy. She was busy shopping for the baby and decorating the nursery. It was like planning for the wedding all over again. She loved a big project. And she had an easy pregnancy. She didn’t get sick and hardly gained any weight. ”
“I’m going to look like a whale when I’m pregnant. My mom gained a ton of weight with each of us.”
“Like I’d care.” I don’t think Brandon even realizes what he just said. I might be reading too much into it, but the thought maybe—just maybe—he’s hoping for a life together someday makes my heart flutter
“When Pepper was born, I was immediately smitten all over again with this roly-poly baby, but Daphne . . . she was miserable. She felt more tied down than ever. And I was just clueless. I thought she was just a little overwhelmed, so we hired a nanny.”
“Still, even with a nanny, a newborn is a lot of work. I think Daphne felt trapped—it was too little, too late. When Pepper was six months old, she told me our marriage was a mistake. She wanted some time away from me and Pepper. She suggested she return to Arizona to live with her family. I agreed immediately—anything she wanted, I would make it happen. In my mind, my most important job was making her happy, but in the end I couldn’t do it.
I realize now how severe her depression was—and even aside from that, we probably weren’t the best match. But still, I feel like I failed her.
“Daphne seemed much happier once she went home. I wasn’t sure if we were going to stay married.
She kept saying, ‘This is not what I signed up for.’ And she wanted to study law, but it made no sense for her to study law in England when we planned to move back to the states. So she was kind of aimless.”
“She must have felt so confused.”
“Yeah, I think a big part of why she wanted to go home was to really figure out what she wanted. She spent two months in the states before asking for a divorce.”
“How did you take that?”
“Honestly, it was a bit of a relief. She said I could have primary custody of Pepper, and at that point, that was all I cared about. Also, I wanted Daphne to be happy. And I wasn’t making her happy, so it made sense.
But yeah, I also felt like a failure. Her parents didn’t want us to get a divorce.
They suggested she wait a little longer before making a drastic decision.
She decided to go on a solo backpacking trip to think it over.
There was a flash flood, and she never came home. ”
Even though I’ve read the articles, hearing this directly from Brandon is so gut-wrenching. I feel heartbroken thinking of Brandon receiving this news.
“I’m so sorry, Brandon. But in case you need to hear it, it wasn’t your fault.”
“I guess I do still need to hear it. You’d like my therapist—she frequently says the same thing.” Brandon chuckles wryly. “By the way, she’s a big fan of you.”
“You’ve talked about me with your therapist?” I don’t know why, but I’m a little bit honored by this new piece of information.
“Well, yeah. I’ve wanted to ask you out from the beginning, but I had to make sure I was really ready. I haven’t dated for the past decade because I was . . . I am afraid of ruining another woman’s life.”
“You didn’t ruin her life.”
“Maybe not exactly. But that fear was still there. And I had to think about Pepper, too.
“Is this why you told me in the Narnia closet that you don’t date?”
“Yes, although honestly, I had already made up my mind to take the leap and ask you out—but then you started dating Jack . . .”
So many things are making sense now. It’s amazing how much time we both wasted by being afraid.
“Brandon, I have a confession.”
“This sounds serious.”
“Well, you’ve been so open, so I feel like I have to say it . . . for a long time, I’ve been jealous of Daphne.”
“Jealous?”
“Yeah, well, I thought she was this ‘great love’ that you would never get over. How could I ever compare? I’m not proud of it, but I just wanted you to know.”
“Annie, you have no reason to be jealous. I will always be grateful to Daphne for giving me Pepper, but our relationship was over long before she was gone. And even in the beginning, when things were good—well, that wasn’t anywhere close to how I feel about you.”
I don’t know what to say. If Brandon were here in person, I’d kiss him. But since we have a mountain range between us, I just utter an inelegant, “Oh . . .”
Brandon clears his throat, “I suppose it’s time to finally take that leap. So . . . um . . . what do you think?”
“Wait a minute!” I sit up in bed. “Brandon James, are you finally asking me out?”
“If you have to ask I must have fumbled that,” he says with smiling eyes. I used to admire his tragic eyes, but Brandon’s smiling eyes are infinitely better; they are pure joy. “Annie, would you have dinner with me this weekend?”
“Yes! Wait! No, I can’t. I have plans.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve met another Pampas Grass.”
“No, no. Nothing as bad as that. And trust me, I really want to go out with you. What about next weekend? Or maybe we shouldn’t wait that long?”
“Yeah, two weeks apart is too long. How about Monday?”
“Yep, Monday works.”
“Then it’s a date.”
When we wind up the phone call (two hours later—we had a lot of nothing to talk about), I run into Elinor’s room and flop onto the bed next to her. “Brandon asked me out!!!”
“What? Seriously? That’s the best news ever! We have to tell mom.”
“Tell me what?” My mom stands in the doorway in her pajamas. “What is all this squealing about?”
“Brandon has finally officially asked me on a date!”
They both jump for joy. My mom takes my hand, and we dance around the landing, after which we collapse on Elinor’s bed laughing. “When is the all-important date?” my mom asks.
“He wanted to go out this weekend, but I told him I was busy.”
“Did you tell him why?”
“No, I thought it would be more fun to surprise him.”
“He will be surprised, but pleased,” says my mom.
“Yeah, I was worried what he might think. But I’m not anymore—I think he might like me.”
“You think?” Elinor laughs. “That is probably the biggest understatement of the century.”