Page 79 of Dear Henry, Love Edith
“I know. But now I’ve had more time to think.”
“Two minutes? That’s what you consider more time to think?”
“Look, pal, do you want to go through with this engagement or not?”
“Well, gee,buddy, when you put it that way.”
“How else am I supposed to put it?”
“Perhaps without the yelling?”
“I’mnotyelling. I’m just trying to carry on a conversation with you! Okay. Maybe I’m yelling.” Edith didn’t know how they had gotten so close to each other. But they were close now. She could see lightning bolts of white scatteredthroughout the irises of Henry’s blue eyes as clearly as he must see the doubts circling like sharks beneath the surface of her own.
“What happened, Edith?”
“When? Just now? Or twelve years ago when Brian asked me to marry him and I disappointed the two people I cared about most by saying yes?” Edith reached out, running her hands down Henry’s forearms until she was clasping each hand. “I don’t want to live with that again, Henry. This town, these people, you. Maybe this is my second shot to do things right. Maybe this time I’m supposed to say yes. Maybe... maybe this is my story.”
She squeezed his hands. “So Henry I-Don’t-Know-Your-Middle-Name-Yet Hobbes, will you please do me the honor of asking me to be your wife?”
Henry glanced down at their joined hands. He slowly removed his from hers and brought them up to cup her face. He leaned forward and kissed her, tenderly, sending butterflies of anticipation throughout her stomach.
See? Being married to this man wasn’t going to be so bad. Even when they argued.
“My middle name is Dominic,” he whispered next to her ear. “And no. I will not ask you to marry me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“No?” Edith’s arms and shoulders turned rigid as she pressed away from him. “What do you mean, no?”
“We can’t get married. Not like this. It wouldn’t be right. This whole thing isn’t right. I’ll call the newspaper, tell them to issue a retraction of some sort. Or I don’t know, call a town hall meeting. Something.” He would fix this. Somehow.
“It’s too late. Don’t you get it? It’s too late.” Edith placed her palms against her cheeks. With eyes growing wider and wilder by the second, she put Henry in mind of that paintingThe Scream. “Sharon’s counting on us, Henry. The whole town—” she let out a hysterical giggle—“maybe even the entire nation. It’s too late to go back.”
“What are you talking about?”
Henry listened as Edith gave a rambling description ofher phone call with Sharon. “But we cannot do any interviews. That is the one thing I refuse to do. I’ll pay for the whole stinking wedding myself. Last time I ever spoke live to a crowd was over the intercom in junior high for morning announcements, and it did not go well, Henry. It did not go well.”
Pulling her back into his arms, he cradled her head against his shoulder. His intent worked. She stopped talking, allowing him a moment to think.
So okay. Things had escalated even further than he’d thought. A lot further.
“Henry?” Her muffled voice spoke against his shoulder.
“Shhhh...” He patted her head.
What options did they have? Tell the truth obviously. Which would mean disappointment, embarrassment, humiliation—basically all the things he’d worked hard to bounce back from ever since high school.
Or option two. Stay engaged. Get married. Then eventually divorced once Edith realized how much she resented him for standing in the way of her dreams.Ouch.
“Edith?” He loosened his hold on her enough to lean back. A crease from his shirt had left an indentation on her cheek. Maybe he’d been holding a little too tight. “What’s in it for you if we go through with this? I mean, besides not disappointing anybody. Aren’t you supposed to leave for South Africa any day now? That’s been your dream all summer. Why would you throw it away now?”
“Who says I’m throwing it away?”
Henry’s eyebrows dipped. “So you think we can just keep on pretending we’re engaged while you run off for the nextcouple of years? Am I supposed to tell people it’s a really long engagement or...?”
“No. I’m not saying that. I’m saying maybe my dream just gets postponed for a little bit. I still go, I just go later.”
“Like after we’re married? ‘Hey guys, we’re back from the honeymoon. Now my wife’s leaving the country. Oh no, I’m staying here. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.’”
