“Yeah,” Frank said. He turned to me. “We need to figure out where.”
I smiled, so surprised and happy at how this day had gone, so relieved that, after all of it, I might just get another momma out of Mrs. Harrington. Family was all that mattered now. Family was everything. And I realized that when it came to our wedding, I wasn’t clueless about where it should be after all. In fact, I knew just the place.
CHAPTER 19
gray: happily ever after, the sequel
If I thought I was good at social media, once I started following Brooke, I realized I was wrong. That made sense, because she had six more of her teen years to use it. I figure that, by the time Wagner grows up, kids will be born knowing how to make their YouTube videos go viral. It will be a biological adaptation like opposable thumbs. Brooke had started a blog to document her ever-fascinating life, and, much to my surprise, she had jumped on my idea for her and Greg to move down here as soon as he had pitched it. She loved the idea so much, in fact, that she had asked me to go house hunting with her.
Before we left, Diana had sat me down and said, “Look, Gray. I know you don’t want to be friends with Brooke. But if you want to win the fight with Greg, she’s your best shot at getting what you want.” I had sighed and rolled my eyes. But I always do what Diana says.
We had spent sixteen hours—yes, sixteen—over two days looking at every house on the market. Either they weren’t close enough to the water or they were too big, too small, didn’t have an office for Greg, didn’t have a nursery for their future baby (gag), needed too much work, didn’t need any work…
Until we looked at the house next door. As in, next door tome. It was a cedar-shake, four-bedroom, four-bath house built in the late 1950s. It had tons of character, a chef’s kitchen, and a view that was almost as good as mine. The bathrooms hadn’t been redone to Brooke’s specifications, but that was good because it gave her a project.
“Gray!” she had squealed. “It is perfect, perfect, perfect! Don’t you think?” We were sitting on the back porch, from which you could just make out my back porch. The exhausted realtor had claimed she had a call, but, really, I think she needed a power nap in the car.
“It is a good house,” I agreed.
“Gray,” Brooke said seriously. I could tell an abrupt subject change was coming. “Can I talk to you?”
“We’ve been talking for two days,” I said with only the tiniest hint of snark.
She laughed and looked down at her hands. “No, I just…” She trailed off and then looked back up at me. “I want to apologize to you. I’ve never really done it, and I want to now.”
I was shocked. I looked back at her, but I didn’t say anything.
“I didn’t think about you,” she continued. “I swear I didn’t. It was just like you and Wagner were this inanimate roadblockbetween what I wanted—Greg—and where I was. And I didn’t care about your family or the consequences or anything.” She looked into my eyes as she said, “I was wrong. And if you don’t want me next door, I understand.”
This was my moment. I had the golden opportunity to talk her out of buying this house. But, again, sixteen hours.Sixteenhours. Don’t ever underestimate that woman. She knew what she was doing. It kind of made me like her.
And I didn’t even try to talk her out of it. I just grinned and said what I was thinking: “Now Wagner will be right next door on my off weeks!” There was something seriously wrong with me. But that was true about Wagner.
Now Brooke had a great excuse to walk the short distance between our two houses pretty much every day and ask for advice on her foray into the Internet. Truth be told, she was gaining followers so rapidly I thought I might need some advice from her. She usually brought some sort of fresh-squeezed cocktail, which made it tolerable.
Otherwise, life was getting back to some semblance of normal. Well, as normal as it can be with your ex-husband and his almost new wife living beside you and your kid going to a new school with new friends and sharing custody and your sister taking up what might be permanent residence in your house. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen Price, but we had talked daily, and he’d finally convinced me to go out with him.
“What in the hell are you waiting for anyway?” Diana had asked me. “Your boobs to fall all the way to the floor?”
“Yeah,” Marcy said, “He’s cute. Get in the game.” She paused, looking totally dejected. “And see if he has any friends. I’m not doing so hot on my finding-a-husband quest.”
I looked at her in amazement. “Marcy, I had everyone in town trying to find you a man and then you started hooking up with the hot lifeguard.”
“I know,” she pouted. “But you just looked like you were having so much fun with Andrew.”
Fun, I thought.And now I am alone.
I smiled at Diana, still a bit shocked to see her with that tiny protruding belly of hers. “Speaking of marriage,” I said, “you waiting for the delivery room to tie the knot?”
In all honesty, selfishly, I wanted her to go ahead and get married before she got big enough that Wagner noticed. I wasn’t thrilled about having to explain to my kid that the whole “you fall in love and get married and have a baby” thing didn’t necessarily happen in that order. I was trying to hold on to his rapidly retreating innocence as long as possible.
“I wanted to talk to you about that,” she said.
“If you’re wanting her to be a bridesmaid and wear a hideous dress,” Marcy said, “I’ll be in the front row.”
“No, no. No hideous dresses. It’s just…” She paused.
“Oh my gosh!” I said, not even realizing that I was interrupting. “You should get married here! In the yard or on the porch or whatever.”
