He mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
“I love you, Vlad. I have always loved you. There is no one who I would rather share every trivial detail of my day with for the rest of my existence.”
He cupped my face with his hands tenderly.
“You made me wait three centuries for a yes.” He threw his head back. “The torture! If we get married, promise you will continue. It has given me a reason to keep going for all these years.”
When I laughed, he said, “No, seriously.”
“I’m sure I can think of something.” I’d loaned my BDSM manual to Pete, but that was for beginners.
“Three hundred years of waiting.” Vlad was laugh-crying, all the emotions coming out at once. “And all I had to do was quit my job?”
“Either quit, or change the office culture.” I smiled. “I’ll take either one.”
“We’ll feel it out, but I promise it will be better.” He kissed me softly and then pulled back, his face radiant with joy. “We’re getting married!” he shouted. He picked me up and twirled me around. “You have made me the happiest man, dead or alive.”
The next morning, there was a commotion in the yard—the sound of heavy equipment, the rumbling of multiple pickups, and male voices saying things like “Jim, you can’t park there” and “Someone back up the trailer.” The crane operator was finally back from vacation, it seemed.
I put on my hoodie, tightened the strings until my face all but disappeared, put on a pair of Aunt Mildred’s sunglasses, and grabbed an umbrella to block the sun before running to the yard.
“Stop!” I yelled, stumbling down the front stairs while gripping the umbrella and sliding my hands farther into the sleeves.
One of the construction workers squinted at me for quite a while before saying, “What the—?” He walked toward me with a confused look. Not the kind of guy you’d ask for help with your homework. “This house is going down. You gotta get outta here.”
Snow crunched under my feet on the way across the driveway toward them.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I live here, along with my…” What should I call Vlad? Vlad emerged from the house dressed much like I was and joined me in the driveway. “I’m here with my fiancé.” I smiled at Vlad, not thatyou could tell with my face covered.
“Fiancé,” Vlad said. “I like the sound of that.”
“I’m here with my fiancé,” I repeated, mostly for Vlad, “…and our protégé!”
“Stop that now,” Heaven said. “Sister is fine.” Heaven had followed Vlad out of the house wrapped in one of the mauve bedspreads, only her face poking out. The workman looked at each of us in turn with a confused expression.
I channeled Miley Cyrus and Sandra Bullock, the two women I associated most with wrecking balls, and stood my ground. “This is my home. I filed an appeal and you can’t be here.”
I didn’t know if that was true but…oh well.
“Your appeal was denied. You know that.”
Vlad stepped in. “What about an auction? Isn’t the city obligated to sell the home if there are bidders?”
The guy looked annoyed. “I just drive the crane. I don’t fucking know.”
“You need to find out now.”
With some significant grumbling, he got on the phone and talked to someone for a few minutes, during which I reminded Vlad that I didn’t have any money for an auction and I wasn’t taking his. “I would rather go down under my own power than be rescued.”
He shook his head in annoyance. “We’re going to be married. It will also be your money.”
“It’s the principle of the thing,” I said.
He looked at me like he was about to tear his hair out. Suddenly, a smile replaced his look of frustration. “Tiffenie, you are keeping your promise.”
“Torturing you with my principles?” I guessed.
“I love you,” he said. “I will never be bored.”
