A cotton candy sunset frames my parents’ house as Jake turns the key to his truck. The grumbling engine goes quiet. “You ready?”
I wipe my clammy palms against my jeans. “My stomach’s been doing nonstop pirouettes since you picked me up.” Up until this point, our less-than-twenty-four-hour-old engagement has been nothing but an enticing idea—one Jake and I talked through at length over an entire pot of pumpkin spice coffee yesterday, after he finished fixing my faucet and I had returned from the Fall Harvest Festival committee meeting. We sat at my too-tiny, can-never-have-more-than-one-guest-over-for-dinner kitchen table and hashed out a plan.
“Are you afraid they’ll be upset?” Jake asks.
“Are you kidding? My mom will be thrilled.”
“She will?”
“Come on. She’s dreamed about us getting married since we were teenagers.”
His eyes crinkle in the corners. “No she hasn’t.”
“Trust me, she has.”
He leans back in his seat, the evening’s shadows darkening his features. “Huh.”
I take a deep breath, annoyed with my pesky conscience. According to doctors, my dad has one month, maybe two, and as far as I’m concerned, there will be no items left uncrossed on his bucket list. Not if I can help it. Whatever confessions I need to make can be made after he’s gone. Surely God will understand. Surely, after twenty-seven years of playing by his rules, he will allow me this one indiscretion, if something so gray can even be considered an indiscretion.
“Emma?”
I blink.
Jake’s staring at me. No baseball hat. No five o’clock shadow. Not even one of his flannels. His transformation from rugged to dashing does little to improve my focus.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“I have something for you.” This time, he’s the one who wipes his hands on his jeans. The show of nerves is comforting somehow, a reminder that we’re in this together. He shifts his hips forward, reaches into his back pocket, and brings out his fist. “I thought, since we’re engaged . . .”
“Please tell me you didn’t buy a ring.”
He opens his hand.
My fingers move to my lips.
“It was my maternal grandmother’s. I inherited it from my mother. I know it’s not a diamond, but it seemed like something you would wear.”
“Jake, I can’t wear this.”
I shake my head. Jake should save this for the woman he loves. For the woman he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. That woman isn’t me. I can’t wear his grandmother’s ring. But before I’m able to voice any of this, he slips the piece of jewelry onto my finger—a gold band set with an oval-cut pearl surrounded by tiny red gemstones. “Now they’ll believe us.”
I look at him, this man I’ve known since I was three. I grew up tagging along with him and my brother, at first wanting to be one of the guys, then wanting to date one of those guys, and here that guy is, putting his grandmother’s ring on my finger. I stare down at my hand, reminding myself this isn’t real. Jake is only doing me a favor. Besides, I laid my schoolgirl crush to rest a long time ago. Chase had been proof. “It’s beautiful.”
He winks, climbs out of his truck, and opens my door, letting in the chill. I swing my legs around and take his offered arm. Together, we crunch through the leaves in the same lawn we used to play in as kids—ghost in the graveyard, kick the can, capture the flag, and every other neighborhood game—when two things happen simultaneously: I notice my brother’s motorcycle behind Dad’s Lincoln Navigator, and the front door flies open.
Mom stands inside the door frame, beaming from ear to ear, her gray-blonde curls tucked behind her ears, a novel’s worth of questions sparkling in her hazel eyes. Nix the gray and the wrinkles and twenty extra pounds, and I am basically her doppelgänger. “If it isn’t Jake Sawyer!” She steps forward and gives Jake a tight squeeze, making eyes at me over his shoulder, mouthing his name as if I don’t already know it. “What a wonderful surprise!”
“Good evening, Mrs. Tate.”
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times.” Mom gives his chest a friendly prod with her finger. “It’s Marie to you.”
The pirouettes in my stomach pick up speed. We might be able to fool my parents, but my brother is a whole different ball game. To say his presence complicates our plans is the understatement of the year. “Liam’s here?”
“He got back from his trip this afternoon. I invited him to join us.”
Jake and I exchange a nervous glance.
“How was Door County?” he asks Mom.
“Oh, just wonderful. Gorgeous in the fall. Have you ever been?”
“A couple times as a kid.”
“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”
He nods earnestly.
Mom looks from him, to me, to him, to me, her eyes dancing. “Should we go inside?”
I want to shake my head. Nope, no thank you. I would much rather stand out here, away from Liam and his prying, astute eyes. Judging by the way Jake’s feet do not move, I think he’s in agreement with my plan.
“Come in, you two. Come in. Martin, Liam, look who’s here!” Mom motions for Jake to go ahead, then takes my arm before I can follow, a question written all over her delighted face. What does this mean? As much as I’d like to stand out here where it’s safe and attempt to explain my unexpected guest to her, I cannot leave Jake on his own. He’s already doing enough.
“Mom.”
She lets it go for now, and we join the men, who are busy shaking hands in the middle of the living room. Jake stands with a stiffness in his shoulders while a slightly sunburned, mostly tan Liam looks on with an unmistakable gleam in his eye, as if he’s tucked a smirk into one corner of his mouth. We haven’t even explained ourselves yet and already he doesn’t believe us. I can tell. Trying to ignore him, I smile at Dad. Except for the scar on his bald head and the sharp edges of his shoulders, there is no trace of the cancer spreading throughout his brain. He’s even gained back some weight since finishing his last round of chemo several months ago. His warm brown eyes sparkle as he steps forward and wraps me in a tight hug. I don’t want him to let go. I want to stay right here, in this moment forever.
“Fun trip?” I manage to squeak out.
“The best.” His voice rumbles against my ear, an ocean of calm. It makes the tightness in my throat tighter. My father has always been my hero, but these past two years, especially these past several days, has him superseding hero status. “How were the cats?” he asks.
“Don’t get me started.”
He chuckles, then lets me go and addresses Jake. “It’s a nice surprise to see you here.”
“Definitely unexpected,” Liam adds.
Jake sticks his hands in his back pockets. “I thought you were sailing around the San Juan Islands or something like that.”
“Finished a day early.” My brother has an insane job. He actually gets paid—and good money too—to take rich people on outdoor adventures, all in the name of leadership training. He’s climbed Kilimanjaro, hiked the Na Pali Coast in Kauai, and almost everything else in between. Technically, he lives in Mayfair. But he’s gone more often than he’s around. “So what’s this?” He flicks his finger between Jake and me. “Are you two together?”
I look at my partner in crime, then back at my brother. “I guess you could say that.”
Liam’s eyes widen.
I give him my best pleading look.
It only makes the smirk in the corner of his mouth bigger. He gives Jake a friendly slap on the shoulder. “It’s about time, man! Emma only had a crush on you all through high school.”
Jake cocks his head.
My entire face catches on fire. “No I didn’t.”
“Then what was up with all those little hearts you drew everywhere?” He traces an invisible heart with his finger. “JS plus ET equals true love.”
I am going to murder him.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Mom says.
“Me too. I’ve always thought you two would make a great couple.” Dad claps his hands, then rubs them together. “Now Jake, I hope you’re hungry. When Emma said she was bringing a guest to dinner, I think Marie thought the Packers’ entire defensive line would be coming.”
Jake pats his flat abs. “Starved.”
“Anything else happen while we were away?” Mom asks.
I swallow, my throat suddenly parched. This is the perfect opportunity to make the announcement, only I find myself waffling. Liam was not part of tonight’s plan. We were going to tell him after we eased into the charade by first telling my parents. I had come prepared for something akin to a warm-up speech, given in front of the safety of a mirror, only to find out there would be no practicing. “Well . . .”
Jake runs his finger under his collar. “Emma and I . . .”
“We’re engaged!” I blurt.
“What?” Mom and Dad say the word in unison.
I hold up my left hand, grateful for Jake’s forethought. It would have looked extra suspicious if I didn’t have a ring.
“Engaged?” Dad asks.
“To be married?” Mom adds, as if there is another kind of engaged Jake and I might be.
Liam coughs, or maybe it’s a laugh. I can’t tell.
I stare at my parents, trying to gauge their reaction, wondering if we shouldn’t have somehow led up to the announcement. Told them we were serious over salads, in love over the main course, engaged by dessert. “We know it’s fast.”
“More like warp speed,” Liam says.
The fire in my cheeks spreads into my ears. My brother is many things—a charmer, an adrenaline junkie, the life of the party—but he’s also shrewd and skeptical. And right now his shrewd, skeptical stare bores into the side of my face. I cannot look at him.
“Mystery woman,” Mom mumbles.
“What’s that?” Dad says.
Her face brightens, a tangible lightbulb moment. “You are Jake’s mystery woman?” She laughs—fairy dust sprinkling the air, dissolving some of the tension.
Dad furrows his brow. “What mystery woman?”
“Jake’s been dating someone for the past several months. All the ladies of Mayfair have been trying to guess who. Turns out, that woman is our daughter.” Mom takes my hand and examines the ring. “This is gorgeous.”
“It was Jake’s grandmother’s.”
“Wait a minute,” Dad says, apparently trying to keep up with Mom. “If you and Jake have been dating, why did you keep it a secret?”
“They probably didn’t want to put pressure on the relationship, Martin. You know how nosy this town can be. I understand wanting to keep things private.” Mom looks up from the ring. “What I don’t understand is keeping it private from us.”
“We’re sorry. We, um, didn’t want anything to be awkward. In case things didn’t work out.”
Mom shoos away my apology and examines the ring more closely. “Jake, are those rubies?”
“Garnets,” he says.
I take my hand back and peek at Dad, watching the wrinkles gather on his forehead. Time is a funny thing when the end of a person’s life draws near. Days that once flew by like discarded seconds turn into twenty-four-hour lifetimes. The definition of fast changes. This engagement came out of nowhere, but my dad’s face softens. I wonder if he’s picturing me in a white dress, my arm wrapped around his as he walks me down the aisle. I wonder if he’s thinking about his bucket list.
This is for you, I want to say.
“This is really what you want?” he asks me.
“Yes.”
That’s all it takes—one simple yes. His face splits into a smile that transforms him into a happy, healthier, younger man. Then he grabs Jake’s hand and pulls him in for a hearty thump on the back. “Congratulations!”
Jake thumps him in return. “Thanks.”
“Now you’ll officially be a part of the family,” Mom says.
“Does that mean we get the family discount at the hardware store?” Dad gives Jake a wink. “I want to replace the floor in Emma’s old room.”
My fake fiancé jumps into this new conversation whole-heartedly and, much to my relief, avoids Liam as diligently as I do. He and Dad chat about the benefits and drawbacks of real hardwood versus laminate as they walk down the hall, toward the room in question. I want to go after them, pretend to contribute to their conversation. Instead, I’m left alone with Liam and my mother—the wolf and the over-excited puppy.
“Emma!” Mom swats my arm.
“What?”
“What? You are engaged to Jake Sawyer.”
“Will you stop using his last name?”
“I’m sorry, it’s all just happening so quickly. My head is spinning.”
“Mom, you and Dad only knew each other for five months before you got married. I’ve known Jake my entire life.” I peek sideways at my brother as I say it.
He stands with his hands folded behind his back, eyes slightly narrowed, as if measuring every single one of my words. I want to cup my hand over his eyes and tell him to stop staring.
“Oh honey, don’t get me wrong. You know I’m thrilled, it’s just . . .” I wonder if she’s going to bring up Chase and the fiasco that was my first engagement. We dated on and off for six years before I said yes, and look how well that turned out. “Do you love him?”
“Mom.”
Her expression turns serious. “It’s an important question, Emma.”
“It’s Jake. Of course I love him.”
“All right then.” She smiles. “Have you picked a date?”
“October twenty-fifth.”
Her eyes go buggy. “Of this year?”
“I know all of this must be overwhelming, but October’s my favorite month. And if we wait until next year . . .” I don’t have to finish the thought. The smirk tucked into the corner of Liam’s mouth dissolves. All three of us are thinking the same thing.
If we wait until next year, Dad will be gone.