We spend the first hour hanging out at the kitchen island chatting and munching on food. In addition to the vegetable tray, which Aaron and Riggs avoid, we have a charcuterie board as well as a sausage queso dip with chips, which both men devour.
I have to admit, Riggs is completely different from how he’s been at our prior meetings. While he’s not completely relaxed, he’s outgoing, and to my surprise, funny. But I sense an underlying sobriety about him, and I’m not talking about the alcohol kind. It’s almost like he’s weighed down with caution and an inherent mistrust that makes him a little standoffish, no matter how much he engages in conversation.
Admittedly, it makes me more curious about him.
The time comes, though, when Aaron suggests we get our Scrabble game going. He has everything set up on the large, square coffee table in the living room where we’ll sit on the floor to play—part of his design to make sure this all goes off without a hitch.
We take our places and make it through the first game, which Clarke wins but not by much over Riggs.
We refresh beer and wine and start the second game. Conversation flows easily, but Riggs and I don’t really talk to each other. He addresses Aaron and Clarke, and I do the same. This is easily handled by never asking a question or making a statement that would encourage the other to respond directly, and we keep our low-level animosity secret.
When we’re halfway through the second game, Aaron dramatically rubs at his temple and groans. Clarke’s eyes immediately move to him and she frowns. “Another headache?”
He nods, grimacing as if the movement pains him. “Do you mind grabbing the Excedrin Migraine from our bathroom? It’s in the top left drawer.”
“Of course,” she says and jumps up.
The minute she’s out of sight, Aaron snickers at his deception. “I’ve been faking headaches for the last four days just for this moment.”
I glance at Riggs and see he’s as impressed as I am by Aaron’s foresight.
As planned, we move as quickly as possible. Riggs carefully lifts the Scrabble board from the table and I hold out the box it came in. He slides the tiles from the board slowly so they don’t make too much noise and I shove the box under the nearby love seat.
Aaron pulls another Scrabble board with tiles that spell out a variety of words from under the couch. These tiles don’t move, though, as he glued everything in place.
He sets it on the coffee table and rotates it once so the words face Clarke’s place. I take a second to admire it—a hodgepodge of words like worm and chill and yap—but within all those words, spelled out horizontally and in sequential order, are the words “will you marry me.”
Riggs inspects the board. “Very nice.”
“Pinterest,” Aaron says proudly.
“What the fuck is Pinterest?” Riggs asks in a low voice, and I choke back a laugh.
But Clarke is walking back into the living room, and we all snap our mouths shut. She cuts right into the kitchen. “They weren’t in the left drawer, by the way. Found them under the sink. I’m going to grab you some water.”
Riggs, Aaron, and I exchange looks, all three of us having a hard time not smiling.
We go blank faced, though, when Clarke reenters the living room.
“Why so quiet?” she asks, moving to Aaron’s side and handing him two Excedrin and the bottle of water.
“Just giving deference to Aaron’s headache,” Riggs says quickly.
Clarke shoots him a sweet smile and moves back to her side of the table. Aaron deftly drops the pills to the rug beside him and by the time Clarke is taking her seat facing Aaron, he’s pretending to swallow them with some water.
He caps the bottle. “Thanks, babe.”
Clarke is obviously worried and studies him. “We should make a doctor’s appointment. These headaches have been going on for a week.”
“Four days,” he counters and nods to the board. “I think it’s your turn.”
“I’m serious, Aaron.” She doesn’t even look down at the marriage proposal before her. “You can’t ignore this.”
“Why not?” he asks pointedly, nodding once again. “You’re ignoring the game.”
Clarke rolls her eyes. “You can’t seriously compare repetitive migraines with playing Scrabble.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Aaron mutters. “Will you just play? I promise I’ll call tomorrow and make an appointment.”
“Fine,” she snaps, but she wears a triumphant smile as she looks down at the board.
We all wait silently, and my skin prickles with excitement for the second it dawns on her.
Clarke frowns as she looks at the board, then looks to her tiles.
Back to the board, and her frown deepens. She gives a tiny shake of her head, as if trying to clear it. It’s obvious none of the words are registering, but she knows this isn’t the same game she left a few minutes ago.
And then she actually studies her tiles, trying to figure out a word she can create.
Her attention goes back to the board, and I almost feel sorry for her apparent confusion. I sneak a peek at Aaron, who’s leaning forward expectantly, waiting for that moment she sees what’s before her.
“Did something…” Clarke begins, then stops.
She glances up, first to Aaron whose expression is bland, then to me, then to Riggs. We stare back at her, but my facial muscles are quivering as I try to maintain an air of nonchalance.
Once again, she looks down to the board, and I can see her starting at the top and working her way down through all the words. Almost as if a spotlight is cast on the four most important words, understanding dawns as she takes in Aaron’s message.
Will.
You.
Marry.
Me.
Clarke gasps and her eyes shoot up and lock with Aaron’s across the table. He grins and holds up a ring between his thumb and forefinger. It’s a stunner. He showed it to me when he bought it a few weeks ago, and in true Aaron style, it’s ridiculously large and sparkly.
Only taking a second to look at the ring, she brings her eyes back to Aaron and whispers, “Yes.”
I had not expected to react in any way other than joyous smiles, but damn if tears don’t prick at my eyes. I hastily blink, but they keep forming, and I’m forced to wipe at them. I find Riggs staring at me, his dark eyes giving away nothing as he watches me cry.
I angle away, embarrassed, and focus on Clarke as she jumps up from her spot, moves past me around the table to Aaron, and throws herself at him.
What follows next is a lot of hugging and kissing and Clarke chastising Aaron for the fake headaches that scared her, but then oohing and aahing—me included—over the ring once he slips it on her finger.
I pull out a bottle of champagne we had hidden in the bottom drawer of the fridge, and Riggs opens it while Aaron and Clarke hug and kiss some more. I’ve never seen Clarke so emotional, and Aaron has always been such an easygoing, funny guy, but now he looks like someone who’s been given the world’s most prized possession, and he can do nothing but stare at it in awe.
Champagne is poured, and I make a toast to my friends. Riggs merely lifts his glass and says, “Congratulations.”
And then… it’s time for me and Riggs to go. Aaron and Clarke will want to be alone.