“Are we idiots?” I laugh, because we’re still walking on eggshells after our breakup and reconciliation. “Of course, I want to move there with you. I don’t want to do long distance, and we don’t have to by any means. There is nothing stopping either of us from moving in together, or me trying to find a job there. It’s the same exact thing as I’d be doing here. I’m not licensed in any state yet, why the hell couldn’t it be DC?”
Bevan starts rambling nervously. “I just didn’t know if you wanted to leave New York, much less move in together again after we just got back together. And it would be just the two of us figuring things out, no roommates to cushion the blow of fights. Then I’d be studying or in school all the time, barely making money, you’d be trying to find a job, it would be real life—”
“Don’t you get it by now, baby? Real life is the only thing I want with you. I want to struggle and make it together. I want to pull all-nighters while you’re cramming for exams, or have you help me grade papers or do lesson plans. I want to argue with the neighbors in our apartment building about who left their music on too loud. I want to explore a new city with you and be the grown-ups we always dreamed of being before we knew how hard it could get. I want it all with you, Bevan. It’ll be difficult, but damn, will it be worth it.”
She lets out a noise, a little choked sob. “I’ve been afraid to ask. Of course, I want us to move together, to live in DC together and wherever we might end up. I want all the fairy tales we always thought about in high school, our own place, marriage, kids. I want a wedding where all of our friends get embarrassingly drunk and Scott probably screws one of my bridesmaids or something. Move with me?”
“Let me come with you?” I ask her the same thing, only from my lens. “You’d have to kill me at this point to get rid of me. Of course I’m coming to DC.”
The job Robert was offering is tempting, but being with her is more important. I can teach from anywhere. There has to be somewhere in the greater capital area who needs a goofy gym teacher.
I want to ask her to marry me.
The idea supplants firmly in my head, and I know it won’t go away until I follow it.
I want to ask her to marry me. Before graduation, before the next chapter of our lives, I need to show her that we are inseparable, that no matter what happens, I’m always going to be with her.
My mother’s promise from years ago, in a whispered conversation as she checked on me as a teenager right before I fell asleep, rings in my ears.
“I’m going to see my parents tomorrow,” I suddenly say, and Bevan probably thinks it’s out of left field.
“Okay?” She looks confused. “Do you want me to come with? I miss them.”
“Nah, you have a lot going on this week. My mom mentioned Dad needs help moving some stuff, so it’ll be a boring trip anyway.” Shit, I’m a good liar at this moment.
“All right. But I’ll miss you. You’ll be back before I go to bed?”
“Of course, I’m not spending the night.”
Though my head is in a million different directions right now. What will my parents say when I go to them asking for my grandma’s ring? Will they say it’s too soon, or we’re too young? Will Bevan even accept?
Most of all, how the hell am I going to pull off a proposal worthy of what she deserves?
34
CALLUM
The drive back to Webton is one I take with sweaty palms and a nervous heart.
I’ve known that Bevan is the woman I want to marry practically since the moment I saw her. I wouldn’t have been with someone for six years and gone through all the shit we have not to end up together. Sure, it got murky there in the middle, but now I have absolutely no doubt.
I want to spend the rest of my life with her, and I don’t want to wait. Everything that we have coming up is all up in the air. Yes, we agreed to go to DC together, but after that we have nothing planned out.
I want to show Bevan just how committed I am, that I love her and will always cherish and protect her. We’re young, but I know this is the woman I want to marry. I’ve always known.
Now I just have to tell my parents that and hope they don’t freak the fuck out.
My neighborhood is quiet on a Thursday afternoon, this impromptu trip I’m sure making my parents question something being up but I didn’t divulge over the phone. When I pull into the driveway, both of their cars sit in the first two spaces, and I notice Mom has planted new yellow flowers in the beds by the mailbox.
“Ma? Dad?” I yell as I use my key to enter.
“In the kitchen!” she calls back, and I see her coming around the corner as I head that way.
“Hi!” she squeals, pulling me in for a big hug.
“I missed you, Mom.” I smile into her hair, really meaning it.
Moving to DC will mean leaving behind my home state for the first time in forever. Sure, moving to Talcott for college was over an hour move, but it meant I could come home whenever I wanted or needed. There was a certain safety net. With Bevan and I leaving and moving hours away, we’ll really be on our own for the first time.
I can’t wait, but I’m also anxious for it.
“Son! To what do we owe this pleasure? Are you home for your mother to do your laundry?”
“Well, I also came for a home-cooked meal. Are you on the grill tonight?” I hug him next.
“Do you want a soda or maybe some lemonade?” Mom goes to the fridge, and I round the island, planting my hands on the counter.
“Oh, sweetheart, grab me a ginger ale in there?” Dad asks her as he goes to sit at the kitchen table.
I wanted to work up the nerve to ask, shoot the shit a little, and put them at ease, but I feel the word vomit coming up. It’s like this wriggling animal sitting on my chest and I just have to shove it off. The next thing I say will change our lives forever, because if they agree, I’ll be starting my own family. It will mean so many things, but it’s the ultimate sign of growing up.
I’ll be leaving their home and creating one with my future wife.
Breathing out a nauseous lungful, I look down at the counter for strength, then back up.
“I came here to ask you for Grandma’s ring, so that I can propose to Bevan.”
There is a moment of pause, where my parents stare at me and I stare back at them. Mom looks over at Dad, who then looks at me, and then Mom’s face splits into the widest smile I’ve ever seen.
“Absolutely.” Mom has no hesitation, which surprises me.
For sure, I thought she’d be the parent who questioned me. Who told me this was a bad idea.
“Are you sure right now is the time? It wouldn’t be wiser to wait a little bit, you just got back together …”
Dad, shockingly, is the one who throws out some questions.
“He wants to marry her! They’ve been together for years, and we got married young!” Mom hits him in the arm in that shut up, you’re ruining it way.
“I know we’re young. And I know we have a lot to figure out, but on the front of loving each other until we die? Yeah, we’re pretty united and solid on that one. We don’t have to get married right away, I know that. But I want to propose. I want her to wear my ring. I want to go into this next chapter of our lives as something more serious, because we’ve always been so much more serious about each other than any other couple our age. I love her, she is my person. My soul mate. And so I want to ask her, not because it’s wise but because it’s the only thing that has ever made sense to me.”