Chapter 19 Sharing the News
Jake’s “any more issues” is stuck in my head on repeat. On Friday, as I’m finishing up the bolognese in Vee’s kitchen, he walks in with a huge smile, and despite my worries, I can’t help but grin back.
“It smells delicious.” He grabs my arms and swings me around the kitchen. “Oh, wait a minute, the smell almost made me forget my good news. Professor Montgomery wants you to start on Monday!”
I cover my mouth in surprise. “Really? Wow, that’s great. I think.”
“It’s for a special project he’s working on; researching declining populations of some sort of bird in the area, as well as something about rare or extinct birds, so you should be in seventh heaven.”
I clasp my hands together at my chest and squeak, “No way! It’s a bird project. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to make sure you had the job before I told you, just in case. Professor Montgomery isn’t easy, and I didn’t want to disappoint you if he didn’t go for it.”
“This just keeps getting better and better.” I shake my head in wonder. “Do you know what I’ll be doing?”
Jake tousles my hair. “You’ll be organizing and filing reports. Your Excel skills will definitely come in handy. Maybe doing some research, I would guess. You won’t be out in the field looking for birds, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I narrow my eyes at him with mock-anger. “Hmph! You never know.”
He sniffs the air. “Is something burning?”
I yelp and rush back to the stove, quickly stirring the simmering sauce, chagrined that I may have ruined the whole dinner. But when I serve it up a few minutes later, I think it tastes pretty good—and Jake assures me it’s delicious.
Hating to change the mood, I shift in my chair uncomfortably until I can’t bite back the words. “What did you mean when you said we should run through scenarios?” I ask as I spear a bite of pasta.
“We need to be prepared for Oliver and Carol to question us a bit,” Jake says seriously. “They’ll think it’s sudden, so we need to tell them our story and make it believable.”
I suck in a breath at his words, “our story.” It sounds so romantic.
Jake continues, “It’s best to stick to the truth as much as possible, so here’s what I’m thinking. We went on a few casual dates and were getting to know each other. Let’s say neither of us was interested in anything too serious.”
I nod in agreement. “Will you tell them I live next door?”
“Umm, oh, I don’t think that would be smart. Let’s stick with what we told them, that Vee met you at a bakery. We don’t want to get into that whole, er . . . mess.” Jake replies.
“Oh.” I mumble.
“Then the night Vee overdosed, we were both so upset and ended up talking all night long, sharing our innermost thoughts.” Jake continues in a rush. “It made us realize that life is too short to waste a moment of it, and we both admitted to each other that we were in love.”
I blush and look at him, dismayed. “Do we have to tell them everything about that night?”
Jake vehemently shakes his head. “No, of course not. They won’t ask about anything like that.
It will just be easier to keep track of things if we follow a real timeline of sorts.
I’ll just say what I just did to you about life being short, yada yada, yada and then we can share my romantic proposal in Central Park and how you said yes and how we’re both thrilled. How’s that?”
I bite my lip. I’m doubtful I can pull it off. Jake sidles close to me as I’m standing holding the half empty pasta bowl. Gently taking it from my hand, he sets it down. Taking my arm, he pulls me close and my body sways toward him automatically.
He looks down at me. “We need to act like we are in love, so we need to show it.”
I feel his body against mine as I lean on him.
I tilt my head back so I can continue to look at him, and he smiles lazily.
With his other hand, he pulls me closer; I fit into his body like a snug puzzle piece.
He leans down and gently touches his lips to mine.
My lips part in surprise, and then I reach up for more.
I’m drowning and the only thing that can save me are his beautiful lips.
Pressing my lips harder against his, he slides his tongue slightly into my mouth.
Reaching around his neck, I feel his hair against my palm, and something ignites deep in my soul.
I pull him down closer so I can explore his mouth, longing for his touch—and suddenly I feel his hands on my hips, pushing me away.
He straightens back up, and I lose purchase. I’m lost.
Closing my eyes, I slowly get my bearings. When I open them, Jake is gazing at me strangely. I clutch my arms around my chest and turn away in humiliation, as I’ve again thrown myself at him.
Jake takes my shoulders in his hands and turns me to face him. “We may need to dial it down a bit for my parents,” he says mildly. “We can’t go jumping each other’s bones on their living room floor.”
I redden, Jake’s lips quirk in a grin.
“But it certainly was believable, right?”
Feeling cold, I suddenly shiver. Is he saying we were acting just now? Was I supposed to be acting? I’m very confused. Confused by my actions and by Jake’s reaction.
“I can’t wait for tomorrow to be over,” I say peevishly.
Jake looks solemn. “Right. Oh, one more thing. We need to make sure we are ready to discuss our wedding plans.”
“Our wedding plans?” I’m completely flummoxed.
“Just a few ideas, but mainly we need to give them an idea of when,” he says, as he paces the room.
“We need to control the narrative. Umm, let’s tell ’em we’re going to move in together immediately, but we’re planning to get married in .
. . maybe two years and that we want just a small family affair.
” Jake nods to himself. “Yes, I think that’s the ticket.
We can’t have my mother start planning anything yet.
We’ll explain that we know it was a quick proposal, so we want a longer engagement.
That sets things up nicely to explain when things don’t work out. ”
Watching Jake muttering to himself, I struggle to follow what he’s saying. I’m still confused by the kiss—I’m trying to figure out exactly what happened and whether it was real. I examine it from every direction, and no answers are forthcoming.
Saturday dawns cold and rainy, which fits my mood perfectly, dismal. I’m sitting stonily on Vee’s couch when Jake calls.
“Hey, I’m downstairs in a taxi,” he says. “Want me to run up?”
“No, no, I’ll be right down.” I plod down the three flights like a condemned man, heading to the guillotine.
I give myself a squeeze on the last step to shake off the melancholy.
Jake gallantly comes around and opens my door.
My cheeks pinken despite my anxiety. He is in a good mood—or maybe he’s already acting.
As we near the apartment building, he pats my leg.
“Just follow my lead. This will be easy. They’re all excited about this dinner party with some potential big investor, so they won’t linger over our announcement.” Jake continues in a voice sounding a little pinched. “Who knows, they may even be happy as this is what they’ve been pushing for.”
We head up to the third floor and I glance nervously at apartment 325 as we pass, praying my father doesn’t step out the door.
Jake gives a soft rap on his door before opening it and announcing loudly, “Mom, Dad, I’ve got news.”
I rarely hear him refer to his stepdad as Dad, and it dawns on me he’s doing it on purpose, to get everyone in a good mood.
Carol and Oliver step out of their bedroom.
Carol, in a cream-colored dress with lace sleeves and a pair of black pumps, is putting on a pair of drop pearl earrings and she looks up distractedly.
Oliver is wearing an expensive-looking black suit, and his red power tie is already tight around his thick neck.
As they approach, Jake pulls me forward by my hand, continuing with even more enthusiasm, “You remember Emma? Well, we wanted to tell you both our big news. We just got engaged.”
Shock and dismay replace the look of distraction on Carol’s face. Staring at Jake, she opens her mouth, then snaps it closed. She glances helplessly at Oliver, who steps up and shakes Jake’s hand, then turns to me, giving me a perfunctory hug. This breaks Carol out of her mute phase.
“What did you just say?” she gasps.
Jake wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s all sit down, and we can tell you our story. We’re just thrilled beyond belief.”
Oliver promptly announces, “Well, this calls for a drink.”
Jake’s arm tightens around me, and I feel the tension in it.
“No, Oliver!” Carol shoots him a look. “I need to hear this first before we go off celebrating anything.” She pointedly stares at my stomach.
I cross my arms in front of me as if that may shield me from the daggers she is aiming at me, then peek at Jake, who looks down and gives me a wink and a squeeze. Immediately, I feel better. I can do this. This whole thing could be true. We could be in love.
I extract an arm from my stomach and wrap it around Jake’s waist. We sit down on the love seat.
Carol perches on the chair closest to us and turns her steely eyes onto Jake.
Oliver stands behind her with a hand on her shoulder.
I hope it is firm enough to keep her from leaping across the coffee table and scratching my eyes out.
Jake says sheepishly, “I know it is quite a surprise. It really surprised us, too.” He pulls me tighter. “Emma, do you want to tell our story, or should I?”
Tilting my head just a touch, I say sweetly, “Why don’t you? You tell it so nicely. I just love hearing it.”
Jake drops a light kiss on my mouth and my eyes widen. I smile and then turn toward his parents, trying to confidently meet their eyes as Jake launches into his story, somberly talking about Vee’s tragic night.