Page 6 of Second Chance Ex
“Damn, he did good,” I say, moving her hand beneath the downlights to catch the sparkle in the gem.
“I know! It’s exactly what I always wanted.” Madison gushes.
I hand her the flowers and the wine, and she kisses my cheek, leading me back to the rest of the girls still crowded around the counter, the excitement in the room palpable.
Heather grins, waggling her eyebrows up and down. “So, how did it happen?”
“We went out for dinner last night,” Madison starts, carefully placing the flowers and wine onto the glass countertop. “I didn’t suspect anything because Ryan and I always make an effort to go out for Valentine’s night dinner. He’s sweet like that.”
There’s a collective cooing that resounds through the group, and I don’t know why—maybe I’m salty—but this is all kind of cringeworthy. Not the story of Maddy’s engagement, but the reaction. Like,calm down, ladies. I pretend to listen intently, a smile plastered on my face all the while.
“Then, after the main course and right before dessert, Ryan got up, and I just assumed he was going to the bathroom. But then he got down on one knee, and he asked me to marry him.”
The girls squeal. I offer an open-mouthed smile in the hope that maybe it might look like I’m making some sort of obnoxious sound only a dog can hear.
“Have you decided on a date?”Milly asks.
I scoff, glancing at Milly. “They got engaged less than twenty-four hours ago.” I laugh. “Calm down.”
“Well,actually,” Madison says, offering me a pointed look. “We talked about it last night…”
I stare at her, trying so hard to maintain the smile that’s threatening to fall right off my face.
“Ryan called his grandfather this morning, and he pulled a few strings and… we’re getting married on April 24that the winery.”
The girls around me break into hysterics. There are actual tears.
My smile officially falls, and dread pools low in my belly.
“Ten weeks?” Heather claps her hands together like a goddamn seal.
“Yeah, we figured why wait, you know?” Madison shrugs, but then she looks at me, and I see something telling in her eyes, and I already know what she’s about to say before she even opens her mouth. “Besides, with Joey as Best Man, we need to plan it so it doesn’t interfere with pre-season.”
The excitement in the store plummets, and it’s replaced by an overwhelming discomfort that I feel through to my bones, all eyes zeroing in on me. I swallow hard and try my best to smile, but it’s one of those forced smiles that doesn’t even come close to meeting my eyes.
“Are you going to be okay with this, Prue?” I don’teven know who asks this, because I suddenly feel like I’m miles away.
I snap out of my moment, blinking once, managing a slightly more convincing smile as I look around at everyone.“Yeah, of course.” I nod at Maddy, ultimately dismissing the look of concern in her eyes. “It’ll be fine…” It’s a flat out lie, but I’m sticking to it, because if I don’t, I’m worried I’m going to have to face the truth. And that’s a truth I’m not quite ready to reveal yet.
Since my littlecottage is lacking in almost every luxury possible, I tend to stay at my parent’s house at least one night a week. Sometimes, a girl just needs a home cooked meal and a long hot soak in a tub that fits an actual full-sized adult human.
Thankfully my parents are my best friends, and so they love having me at home as much as I love showing up unannounced.They had me later in life. They tried for children for so long that they eventually gave up. Then, one day, when my mom was forty-three, she felt sick and was worried she was coming down with something, so she went to her doctor only to discover that she was, in fact, eleven weeks pregnant with me. I was their miracle baby.
Now, my mom is inching closer to the big seven-zero, and my dad is nearly seventy-two, and they’re both retired, living their best lives. They travel as much as they can, Mom started a spicy book club, Dad spends most of his time tending to his beloved garden or fixing things around the house that generally don’t requirefixing. They say having me when they did, helped keep them young, while simultaneously sending them prematurely gray during my rebellious teenage years… which never actually happened, but I play along.
As I walk inside my childhood home and hang my coat on one of the hooks by the front door, I’m immediately hit by the warmth and familiarity onlyhomecan provide. Nothing much has changed inside my parents’ house in the years I’ve called it home. A few updates here and there, the occasional bathroom renovation, but it’s practically the same as it’s always been, and I love that about this house.
The scent of something delicious hangs low in the air as I walk down the hall and into the kitchen to find Mom at the stove stirring something, Dad seated at the island, fiddling with the iPad on the counter. Mom was a nurse, but she stopped working once she had me and then decided never to go back. Now she just focuses on her minimum three-chili-spice book club and gossiping with the nosy ladies in the neighborhood. My father was a data scientist who worked at one of the tech giants in Silicon Valley. Now, he lives in his New Balances and competes against the other men in the neighborhood in the unofficial who-has-the-best-lawn competition. He also plays Santa Claus in the annual Rosewood Valley Christmas parade, because his resemblance to the man is frighteningly uncanny.
“Hi,” I announce, walking in.
Mom hurries toward me, wrapping her arms around me, and I sink into her embrace because there really is nothing like a hug from Mom. But then she goes and ruins the moment, the only way she can by pulling backto get a good look at me, eyeing me scrupulously in that way that’s just so her.
“You look tired, Prue Bear. Are you tired?” She glances at my father. “Doesn’t she look tired, Phil?”
Ah, Patricia Watson and your way with words...What she really means is I look like crap. But I suppose at least today she has a point. I do look like crap. I manage a smile, regardless. “Nothing a cheeky glass of vino won’t fix,” I hint.
Mom starts moving about the kitchen, pulling a bottle of wine from the fridge and two glasses from the cupboard.
