But then Adam shook it, made it dance, voice-overed a few mooooos, and placed it down on the ground out of her reach. “Go get it, Rosebud.”
“She can’t,” I said.
He shot me a mischievous grin. “Oh, yes, she can.”
For a moment, everything seemed to return to that fun, light, easy way we had, where we marveled at every little thing.
Rosie lay there, kicking, smiling at Adam. He smiled back, then glanced in my direction, a crease of worry between his brows. “Before you go, I have to ask you something. What kind of engagement ring would you like?”
I sucked in a breath of surprise. And suddenly got choked up—with an aching sadness. I scolded myself—after all, Adam had sacrificed everything, himself, namely, to ensure that I got Rosie.
But he’d just asked me about an engagement ring in between making silly faces at the baby while I had one foot out the door asif he were askingWhat kind of milk should I pick up at the store, almond or 1%?Everything was really…off kilter.
“My grandma left me an old-fashioned cut diamond,” I said. “I thought it might be nice to make a ring from that someday.” I thought more about that and added, “But don’t rush, okay? I-I think we should let all this settle a bit.”
“Okay,” he said in a wary, tired tone.
I didn’t want to talk about rings. Which was strange, because I’d had a vision for the ring I wanted for a long time, which meant even more to me now that my grandmother was gone. And it was wonderful to be asked about what I wanted. Tyler had bought me a two-point-five carat marquise-cut diamond in a very modern setting without asking me beforehand what style I might want. It was so weighted down that it flopped constantly around my finger, even after I’d had it resized. In retrospect, that should have been an omen right there.
On the floor, Rosie got her core muscles moving as she planted her legs and started to rock her body.
Then suddenly,flip,she did it. Rolled over and grabbed her precious cow.
I captured the whole thing on video. “You’re brilliant,” I said. “So smart.”
“Atta girl, Rosebud,” Adam said. “You’re a go-getter. Just like your mama.” Rosie lay there sucking the cow ear and kicking her little legs, looking very pleased.
My eyes watered. Mostly because Adam was still supporting meandcomplimenting me, even though he was upset.
I couldn’t bear it.
He glanced behind his shoulder at me just as I’d finished swiping at my eyes. “Hey, why don’t I come with you?” he asked. “Then we can tell everyone about our engagement.”
I stared at him. I wanted to tell him no. That nothing felt right, and how could we keep pretending like this?
But I couldn’t sort out my feelings. Of course, I was terrified of losing Rosie, and I would do anything, anything in the world, to keep her. Was I also panicked because I was gun-shy, owing to my awful experience with Tyler? Was I unsure of what I felt for this man who’d put everything on the line for me, even if he wasn’t ready to marry me?
No. I wasn’t unsure of that. But everything else felt so…wrong.
Just then, Rosie had a total blowout diaper, necessitating a bath, an entire load of laundry, and all hands on deck. After that, she was hungry and tired, and Adam said he’d stay and put her to bed.
I thanked him and left out the door, relieved to get away somewhere where I could think.
Ani
It was bright and sunny by the time I joined my friends on the outside patio ofBean There, Done That. They were sitting under one of the bright red umbrellas on the patio that faced Main Street, among groups of people chatting and enjoying the warm summer day.
Ordinarily, I would have loved the free time on a lazy Saturday to sit and catch up with my friends. But I was too distressed, and that was impossible to hide.
“Are you okay?” Mia asked before I even sat down.
Sam placed a chai tea latte and a piece of banana bread in front of me, my favorites that they’d already secured for me. Except today they made my stomach churn, even as I thankedthem for their trouble. “You look a little shell-shocked,” Sam said. “Did something happen?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said quickly. “I mean, nothingshouldbe wrong. But it feels like everything is.” I suddenly burst into tears, which caught me by surprise. My friends immediately started handing me napkins, patting me on the back, coming to my rescue as we always did for one another amid all our life moments, good and bad. I loved my friends, but I hated falling apart in a public place.
As I tried to get a hold of myself, I couldn’t help noticing a young couple about to sit down at a table in the corner of the patio. They were with a baby in a stroller and a little girl who looked to be around four years old. The guy parked the stroller and bent down to check on the baby while the woman pulled out a squeezy container of applesauce for the little girl and broke a large chocolate chip muffin in half for her. The couple was laughing and joking, obviously used to tag-teaming the kids.
I felt a stab of longing. For a family. A caring partner. For the simple joy of being outside in the sun with each other on a Saturday outing. Could that be Adam and I one day? Or was I just always looking for the fairy tale, ignoring the reality, like I’d done in the past?
