I nearly clapped my hand over my mouth, surprised at the thought. That had to be the hormones talking. Had to be.
While Glamma gave Bryce a tour of the house, I put the flowers in a vase with sugar water. This close, I noticed feathers tucked amongst the flowers—black spotted feathers like the Silkie chickens my grandma loved so much.
Bryce had remembered that after seeing her Silkie decorations on the front porch... or it had been a coincidence. It had to be, right?
That thought stayed in my mind until Glamma brought him around to the dining room, a little limp to her step thanks to her sciatica pain. My heart squeezed at that little sign of age. But I didn’t have a chance to dwell on it. Not with her nodding toward the kitchen. “Will you bring out the serving dishes, Jada?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said, feeling Bryce’s gaze on me as I went. It sent a blaze of warmth to my cheeks, especially with him telling me I was gorgeous earlier. Could he really be attracted to me? Could some part of this fake arrangement be real?
It was stupid to hope.
When I came back with the meal, Bryce gushed over it just enough to make Glamma feel good without setting off her bullshit detector–a very fine line to toe.
When we finished our food and I went to the kitchen to get the sheetcake Grandma made, I thought this thing might really work. At least well enough to convince her that Bryce and I could be in love.
That is, until I heard Glamma say, “Bryce, I noticed that bulge in your pocket. The perfect shape for a ring box. I know you’re not about to propose to Jada without getting my blessing.”
29.Bryce
ThankGod the woman waited until I had finished eating because I would have choked. As it was, I coughed over my own spit. No reporter had ever made me feel quite as intensely studied as Meredith Baker.
Jada rushed back into the dining area and hissed, “Glamma! You can’t say that!”
Glamma looked away from me, giving me a moment to gather myself as she said to Jada, “What? I’ve seen this boy two times in my life, and he shows up with a wedding ring? You know I’m gonna ask questions!”
“We don’t even know if it’s a ring!” Jada cried. Then she looked at me. “It’s not a ring, right?”
I blanched.Note to self: Ask my stylist to look into pants where things like engagement rings can’t be seen by discerning grandmas.
I ran my hand over my mouth, because I damn sure wasn’t going to have biscuit crumbs on my lips for this conversation.
“Bryce!” Jada cried. “Tell me that’s not a ring.”
Glamma gestured at me. “I saw it earlier, plain as day. You want the man to lie to you? That’s not a good foundation for marriage!”
My cheeks had to be bright red at this point, but I powered through. “Meredith, I was hoping to ask after dinner, but you’re right, I shouldn’t have put it off.” I took a deep breath before continuing the speech I’d practiced since I knew this dinner was planned. “Jada and I haven’t known each other long, but?—”
“Hold up,” Jada said, coming around the table. “Bryce, can I speak with you outside?” I had the feeling she would drag me outside if it came down to it.
“Let the man finish!” Glamma rebutted.
But Jada shook her head, reaching for my hand. “He can finish in a moment, now that you put him on the spot.” She gave her grandma a hard look that quickly dissolved with the love in her eyes. “Come on, Bryce.”
I gave Glamma an apologetic look and followed my future wife to the porch. I couldn’t help but notice all the antique spotted roosters hidden in the corners and the wreath hanging on the front door filled with the feathers.
Jada ignored the chairs and decorations, gesturing wildly at me. “You were going to ask my grandma for my hand in marriage? That’s so outdated!”
My eyebrows raised. “Your grandma doesn’t seem to think so.”
She let out a frustrated grunt. “I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions.”
“Look, Jada, my dad taught me the difference between right and wrong, and I’m doing the best I can to do right. Okay?”
A flash of... something. Pain? Regret? Crossed her face. But the expression was soon gone. “It’s all so messed up,” she whispered.
“I know. If I had my way, you and I would have dated.” I reached out, holding her hand. I needed her to understand me. To believe me. “We would have fallen in love, slow and steady as a springtime rain. I would have come to dozens of these dinners with your grandma without a ring in my pocket. You would have met my dad and played with my nieces and nephews and gotten all the gossip from my sisters-in-law. You would have met my friends, and they would have loved you more than me. We would have gone to Paris and Rome and still wanted to spend all our time hiding out in the hotel becauseyou’rebetter than any wonder of the world.”
My voice shook because damn, I wanted it to be true. I could see it as I said the words. How easy it would have been to fall for her. Natural even. I could tell from our first date that the best was yet to come with her.
