โPretty boy. What are you doing here?โ
โI texted you to say I was on my way.โ Rolling my eyes, I stride through the front door
of the Brooklyn brownstone where Allie grew up.
โYeah, and I asked you why. So. What are you doing here?โ
Joe Hayes leans on his cane as he watches me enter. His face displays only mild hostility, which is better than usual. Allieโs dad and I didnโt hit it off the moment we met, but I like to think that over the years Iโve grown on him. Although the one time I voiced that thought, Joe had nodded and said, โLike a fungus.โ Heโs a real delight.
โBrought you some groceries,โ I say, kicking off my shoes.
โWhy?โ
โMy God, youโre like Tuckerโs three-year-old. Because I thought you might need food.โ I turn to him with a mock frown. โWant to know the proper response when someone brings you groceries?ย Why, thank you, pretty boy, I appreciate the gesture. How did I get so lucky as to have you in my daughterโs life?โ
โDean. Donโt bullshit a bullshitter. Youโre a nice kid. But youโre not a drop-off-groceries-for-no-reason kind of guy.
Which means youโve got an ulterior motive.โ He eyes the two paper bags Iโm holding. โAny corned beef in there?โ
โโCourse.โ Iโve been here enough times to know what he likes from the deli down the street. โCome on, Iโll fix us some sandwiches while I reveal my ulterior motive.โ
With a chuckle, he hobbles to the kitchen behind me, relying far too heavily on his cane. I almost suggest we go and dust off his wheelchair, but stop myself at the last second because itโll only put him in an even fouler mood. Allieโs dad refuses to use that chair. Iโm not sure I blame himโit canโt feel great going from a fit, physical man to a weakened one with a degenerative disorder. Unfortunately, MS doesnโt have a cure, and Joe eventually needs to come to terms with the fact that his condition is only going to get worse. Hell, it already has. His limp is already far more pronounced than when we first met. But heโs a proud man. Stubborn like his daughter. I know heโs going to hold out on using the wheelchair for as long as humanly possible.
While Joe slowly lowers himself onto a chair, I prepare two sandwiches at the counter, then grab two beers from the fridge.
โItโs noon,โ he points out. โI need the liquid courage.โ
Just like that, his expression becomes more pained than usual. โAw man, no. Is that it? Todayโs the day?โ
I frown. โWhat day?โ
He scrubs one hand over his eyes, the other over his dark beard. โYouโre gonna ask for my blessing. Aw hell. Just get it over with and ask, then. You really need to drag out the torture and make both of us uncomfortable? Iโd rather be waterboarded. Goddamn it. We both know Iโm going to say yes, okay? So do it already.โ
I gape at him for a second. Then a wave of laughter spills out. โWith all due respect, sir? Youโre the fucking worst. I had a whole speech prepared.โ
But I suppose Iโm glad I donโt have to recite it. I canโt imagine anything more humiliating than pouring your heart out to a man who equates sharing his feelings to literal torture.
I set a plate in front of him before taking a seat across the table. All the windโs out of my sails as I grumble, โSo Iโve got your blessing?โ
He takes a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly. โGot the ring with you?โ
โYup. Want to see it?โ โBring it out, kid.โ
I reach into my pocket for the blue velvet box. When I flip it open, his dark eyebrows shoot up like two helium balloons.
โCouldnโt find anything bigger?โ he asks sarcastically. โYou think she wonโt like it?โ I despair for a moment. โOh, sheโs going to love it. You know AJ. When it comes
to jewelry, the bigger and shinier, the better.โ
โThat was my thought process,โ I say with a grin. I close the ring box and tuck it back in my pocket. โAll seriousness
โare you truly okay if I ask her to marry me? You werenโt exactly my biggest fan when we first met.โ
โEh, youโre all right.โ His lips twitch. โYou guys are young, though.โ
โWhen did you get engaged to Allieโs mom?โ I ask curiously.
โTwenty-one,โ he admits. โMarried at twenty-two.โ
I tip my head as if to say,ย see? โThatโs way younger than us.โ
โYeah, but times are different now,โ he says gru๏ฌy. โAJ has a career, goals. And women are having babies later and later these days. Thereโs no rush anymore.โ Joe shrugs. โBut if itโs something the two of you want, then I wonโt stand in your way. AJ loves you. I like you somewhat. Good enough for me.โ
I smother a burst of laughter. Thatโs about as ringing an endorsement as Iโm ever going to get from Joe Hayes.
We clink beer bottles and then talk hockey while we eat our sandwiches.
 |
My next stop is Manhattan. Allie and I live on the Upper
East Side, but my motherโs office is on the west end, which is where the taxi drops me almost an hour later.
Mom smiles happily when the receptionist shows me into her office. โSweetie! This is a nice surprise!โ
She rises from her plush leather chair and rounds the desk to come give me a warm hug. I hug her back and plant a kiss on her cheek. Mom and I are close. Ditto for me and Dad. Truth be told, my parents are awesome. Theyโre both high-profile lawyers, so that means yes, my siblings and I had nannies growing up on account of that. But we also had plenty of family time. Mom and Dad were always there for us when we needed them, and they definitely didnโt let us run wild like feral children. Well, maybe Summer, to some extent. That girlโs got the folks wrapped around her little finger.
โI have a big favor to ask,โ I tell my mother as she sits at the corner of her desk. โCan I borrow the penthouse tonight?โ
For my entire childhood, we would split our time between our house in Greenwich and our penthouse at the Heyward Plaza Hotel. My momโs side of the family, the Heywards, built a real estate empire that made them billions, and the Heyward Plaza is one of its crown jewels. Although our villa in St. Barthโs isnโt anything to scoff at either.
โI feel like youโre a teenager again,โ Mom says, narrowing her eyes. Theyโre the same shade of sea green
as mine and Summerโs. My brother Nick is the only kid who inherited Dadโs brown ones. โYouโre not planning a kegger, are you?โ
โNope. Nothing like that.โ โWhatโs the occasion then?โ
Unable to contain my grin, I slide my hand in the pocket of my trousers. It emerges with the ring box, which I place on her cherry-stained desk without a single word.
Mom instantly understands. She releases a squeal of joy and suddenly sheโs hugging me again.
โOh my God! When are you going to do it? Tonight?โ She claps her hands happily. My folks adore Allie, so Iโm not surprised by her jubilant response.
โI was hoping. I know itโs weird to do it in the middle of the week, but Saturday is Allieโs wrap party for the show, and then Sunday my girls have a tournament in Albany, so Iโm out of town. I didnโt want to wait until Sunday night, so.โ I shrug. โI figured tonightโs the night. I know youโre at the penthouse this week, but I was wondering if you could clear out for a few hours whileโโ
โSay no more. Iโll drive back to Greenwich tonight.โ โYou donโt have to leave the city,โ I protest.
โI was going home on Friday anyway. A few days early wonโt matter.โ She claps her hands again. โOh, your father is going to be so happy!โ
โNope. Youโre not allowed to tell him until after I do it.โ
Momโs jaw drops. โYou really expect me to keep that kind of secret from him?โ
โYou have no choice. Dad tells Summer everything, and Summer canโt keep her mouth shut to save her life.โ
After a beat, Mom surrenders. โYouโre right. Your sister sucks.โ
I snort out a laugh.
โFine. I wonโt tell Dad.โ She beams at me. โMy lips will remain sealed until I receive a call saying my baby boy is engaged.โ
I sigh. โMom. Youโre embarrassing yourself.โ That just makes her laugh.
