Page 118 of Over the Edge

I walk over to them and say, “Where’s my bite?”

In response they pull me down with them, and only then am I given a piece of the cinnamon sugar dusted fried dough. When Quinn starts to get up, I say, “Wait. Let me get a picture.”

Holding my phone above our heads I drop it and am saved from a broken nose only because Garrett catches it. He flips it and takes the picture for the three of us.

We’re still picking leaves out of each other's hair an hour later. Quinn stops me on the sidewalk to pull one free.

“I wouldn’t normally bother you, but I have to ask,” says an unfamiliar voice behind us. I turn to find a man talking to Garrett, who appears unfazed. “I was hoping you could help me with a proposal. You see, my girlfriend’s sister’s flight got canceled and she was bringing all this stuff with her and now she’s stuck in Nebraska. We’ve been together since high school, and you were her favorite back then.”

“What exactly are you asking?” Garrett questions.

The man appears to grow more nervous with all four of us looking at him. “Could you sing something for her?”

“Anything in particular?”

“Would it be weird to ask you to sing someone else's song? You were her favorite back then but now she’s super into Lyla West. There’s this song, ‘Sundays in July’ that she loves, and listens to it every morning,” the man explains.

“I’ve heard of it. It’s a good song,” Garrett says, his eyes cut to me with the truth only the two of us know. “We’re in the middle of something, so I’d have to ask.”

“Yes, of course we can help.” I jump at the opportunity. It’s not lost on me that Garrett is willingly helping with a proposal. “We can help set it up. That would be perfect.”

“You want to help with someone else’s proposal on your birthday?”

“And help be a part of one of the best memories they might ever have? Of course.”

“I’ll do it on one condition,” Garrett says, then reaches back to hold my hand. “Eve, accompany me.”

I haven’t performed in front of people for years. The last time was when I was twelve and almost threw up taking the stage for my piano recital. It was fine during the performance, but the pressure and expectation even then got to me.

Garrett squeezes my hand. “You can say no.”

“The stakes are too high, I can’t sacrifice someone else’s happy ending,” I say, because I want to, but also because that’s the answer I’ve always been wired to give. For so long, everyone else’s happiness has been my primary concern. “What do we need to do?” I ask.

The answer: pretty much everything.

The man, who finally introduces himself as Javi, tells us about his hopefully soon-to-be fiancée Kathrine. Pretty much everything he had planned was riding on the sister and now it’s all up in the air. What results from this is a bit of a scavenger hunt. We all break off to put the plan into motion. Oliver, Javi, and Garrett take Garrett’s truck to borrow a piano from the high school.

Quinn and I head to the Love Letter Museum to ask if we can reserve space for a private event this evening and let us keep the piano there until then. Haven, the owner, readily helps. In the end, we have to go to both Winnie and Sara’s flower shops to get enough daisies for our vision, the upcharge for crossing enemy lines is worth it. When we leave the second shop we’re so laden with daisies it’s hard to see Quinn’s face, but I can tell she’s enjoying it. It’s a reminder of the true magic of this town, the people behind the scenes to give couples moments to cherish.

We set down the crates we’ve been using to transport the three loads of daisies to the museum and lean against the siding.

“You should go get ready,” Quinn says, then pulls in a deep breath.

“I’ll stay and help. It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, but if I was getting proposed to, I wouldn’t want the pianist to be covered in leaf debris and dry sweat. I’ll help Oliver set this up and change too. We’ll meet back here at five.”

I blow a strand of hair out of my face. “Okay, you have a point.” I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around her. “Thanks for playing along. I’m assuming you didn’t think you’d be doing labor on your last day in town.”

Her grip tightens around me as she says, “I think it’s what I get for suggesting endurance exercise this morning.”

43

Garrett

For the first time in my life, I understand why grooms cry when they first see their brides walk down the aisle. I’m not hearing wedding bells necessarily, but the moment Evelyn walks into the hall of replica letters wearing the dress she sent me a picture of the first time I took her to The Gas Station, I could weep. She’s incandescent.

I used to think of her as a whirlwind. She is definitely a force of nature, but something less disastrous than what I used to think of. To me, she’s sunshine cutting through the clouds. A rush of light that forces your eyes to adjust and view the world differently.

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