Page 17 of The Other Side of Apart
“Have a good night, Jerry, and thanks for the ride. I hope Wen doesn’t have nightmares from all those podcasts.” I shake my head. “There’s no way I could listen to those. I like to pretend crime doesn’t exist.”
“Me too.” He throws me a sympathetic smile, and I wonder how much Guo Mama has told him about my past. They’ve never said a word about it, and for that, I’m grateful. He and Wen have been like parents to Marcus and me, and my heart has grown roots here in the tiny cottage in their backyard, knowing they’re steps away. “We’re going to miss you. Thanks for watching out for us.”
“Thanks for your help at the restaurant, Mei Li. I think you’ll like the bonus you’ll get with your final paycheck. I wish it could be a bribe to make you stay but I’m happy for you kids.”
“Please don’t, Jerry. You’ve already left money on our counter every week, and that was never part of the deal.”
“I can’t help it. I like you two. It’s my only way to say it.”
I wipe away tears that slip out. “Jerry, that’s just so?—”
“Now, now. We aren’t talking like this yet. I don’t like it.” He checks a text on his phone and nods toward the gate. “Besides, I’m sure Marcus is waiting so we can talk later, Mei Li.”
I say goodnight and slip out of the truck, walking toward the gate, but pause when the motion sensor light that usually flicks on doesn’t. Hurrying through the gate and down the path, I squint in the darkness, but as I round the corner of the house, something crunches under my right foot. I freeze, imagining my shoe landing on one of the giant garden snails that also shares our path. When I dare lift my shoe, a crushed fortune cookie lays in shards on the brick. I brush crumbs off the bricks, so ants won’t invade, then pick up the pieces and toss them in the garbage bin on my way to the cottage. But I stop when there’s another fortune cookie in the middle of the bricks. And another one a few steps later, a whole trail of them stretching straight to the cottage door.
Frowning through a smile, I pick up each one on my way to the door. When I open it, my eyes follow the trail of fortune cookies spiraling around the room toward the table. But the only sign of Marcus is the lit candle with a book next to it. He’s been reading by candlelight lately—something he said his dad does.
“Marcus?” I call, shutting the door behind me. I drop my bag and the pile of cookies on the table right next to Buddha. He’s wearing a tiny paper party hat, and there’s a heart drawn with metallic silver Sharpie on his belly: a note taped to it that says OPEN ME.
My stomach leaps at Marcus’s handwriting. I peel the note off Buddha and carefully unfold it: “Mei Li Miller has a nice “ring” to it, don’t you think?”
My hand flies to my mouth. I read the note again. Mei Li Miller. Mei Li Miller. Ring. RING?! What ring? Where? I look around, but it’s just Buddha on the table. Mei Li Miller?!
The bathroom door swings open, and I spin around as Marcus drops to both knees in front of me and takes my hand.
“Marcus…what are you doing?” My hand goes to my throat, unsure whether to cover my eyes to hide the tears threatening to spill or cover my mouth to prevent the squeal-sob that might come out. “What does this mean?” I hold up the note. “What are you saying…?”
He smiles, its light beaming up and spreading around me. “I’m saying…” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a fortune cookie, and holds it up to me. His eyes never leave my face as I open it and slide out the paper where Marcus has handwritten:YOU WILL MARRY MARCUS MILLER AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER?
I stare at the paper. Read it again.
“What are you saying?” My voice climbs, chased by hope, surprise, and a surge of emotion. “Are you saying now, or soon, or in two years, or…?”
“I’m saying marry me. Tomorrow.” He grins. “I’m down on not just one but both knees, begging you to say something like, ‘Of course I’ll marry you because I’m so madly in love with you, I’d be homeless with you for the rest of my life, or live on only turkey sandwiches, or ride a motorcycle to China if it means I get to marry you’.” His eyes spread neon blue around me. “Or you could just say yes if that’s easier.”
“Yes!” I blurt, nodding, crying, laughing. “YES! And all those other things but mostly just so many yeses. YES! Yes, yes, yes!”
Marcus hangs his head before looking up at me again. “This could’ve gotten super weird if you’d said no.”
I throw myself at him, knocking him backward on the floor with a grunt and squealing into his neck. I kiss him until I’m breathless.
“I love you, Mei,” he breathes. “Mei Li Miller…”
I squeal again, grabbing his face with both hands, and take complete control of his mouth.
He rolls me onto my back, kneeling over me, and slips a sharpie from his pocket. The smile lines around his mouth are deep and full of pride, and he takes my left hand and draws a circle around my ring finger.
CHAPTER 9
Mei: I can see you through the blinds, but you can’t see me. You clean up nice, Marcus Miller. Can we be married yet?!
My head snaps up when the back gate swings open, and I shoot to my feet, standing in front of the evidence like I can hide the Just Married streamers I made out of an old t-shirt and a Sharpie. But Johnny strides through the gate, a smirk on his face. “Never thought I’d miss that gorgeous face as much as I have.” He stops and throws his arms out. “Bring it in, loser. Bring it in, bring it in.”
When my brain catches up to what’s happening, I jog across the yard and pull him to me for the first time in our friendship. We pat each other hard on the back, and a lump swells in my throat, so I slap him harder. “What are you doing here?”
“Got recruited.”
“Did you save some love for me, Marcus Miller?”
