Page 117 of The Surprise
She starts gesturing at me like she’s playing Pictionary. Or she’s trying to communicate with apes at the zoo. “Where’d you get that?”
“You know that rose lady?” If I say her name, they’llreallythink it’s odd.
“Dolores Jenkins?”
Will’s eyes widen. “But she hates everyone.”
“She likes Amanda.” I remember her saying Amanda Brooks was too good for Eddy Dutton. I thought it was weird, since most people think the opposite. “And she likes me.”
“No way she made you a blanket,” Will says.
“She loves to crochet, not knit,” I can’t help explaining. Oh, no. Now they’re really looking at me strangely. Time to make up a story. “Um. So, last year, I helped her cover her roses before the first freeze. She said she owed me one.” There, that seems believable. You have to cover roses, right?
“It’s mine,” Aunt Donna shouts, like she’s been possessed by the spirit of her weird blue frog devil. “You’re going down, you little freeloader.”
The only way out is through. Someone said that once, so when I get close this time, I break for the door.
Aunt Donna doesn’t chase me, thankfully. It would have been nice to show up at the shower in some kind of pack so I might have a chance of blending in, but I really can’t have Aunt Donna poking around for more details about Dolores Jenkins or why she’d make me a blanket. It’s not fair to Dolores, and we’re not at the stage of our friendship yet where I know how well she stands up to torture, so. . . It’s just better all around to avoid any interrogation.
The whole way there, I think about what I’m going to say when I see Ethan. I’m not totally sure exactly how things will go, but I have the basics of a little speech all strung together when I pull in and park, and then I see a line of ponies in rainbow-colored blankets prancing past my car, and every thought in my head shoots out my window.
Where am I?
I actually pull the invite out of my purse to check. I thought it said the Gorge, but maybe I misread it somehow. But no, the invitation is clear. I’m correct on the time and the location, so why is there—an elephant thunders past me, his enormous feet slamming into the ground like the strike of timpani drums.
What on earth is going on?
But then I see something even more amazing than the ponies, than an elephant, than dancing dogs. I see Ethan, who must have seen my car, nearly jogging toward me, grinning the biggest grin I’ve ever seen. He’s so beautiful, and seeing him brings me so much joy that I practically leap out of my car.
And I realize that’s my answer. Isn’t it? I spent an hour picking an outfit because I wanted his mother to like me. His face lights up my world like the Fourth of July. Even if this crashes and burns spectacularly, I have to at least try.
So what if our timing has never been right?
So what if no one else understands?
So what if I’m literally pregnant with someone else’s kid?
If he doesn’t mind, I should stop minding on his behalf. I fling my door open and jump out. Before he can say anything, I gush about the animals and the circus and the crazy, insane display of celebration that is apparently the norm for his family. And then Ethan gets closer and I can’t help myself. I open my mouth to speak.
But he cuts me off. “I know what I said before was a lot.” He looks so intense. “I always come on a little too strong, but my mom pointed out that we’ve never really dated, and I want to. Maybe it’ll help you decide what to do with. . .” He looks around. “The situation. Or maybe not. But either way, I want to date you. I want to hold your hand. I want to hug you every day.”
I look at my tall, sweet, handsome, charming, kind, generous friend Ethan, with his broad shoulders and his wide open heart, and I say, “You can. Let’s do it.”
His eyes widen, and then he blinks slowly, like a computer rebooting.
So I open my arms and I wrap them around him, and I hug him tightly. I don’t ever want to let go, but there are peopleeverywhere, and so finally, I do.
“I still can’t believe this is a baby shower,” I whisper.
“My Aunt Helen’s something else,” Ethan says.
“Your whole family is spectacular,” I say. “So I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“Yeah, but she’s next level,” he says.
“I think she fits right in.” Unlike me.
Ethan strolls toward the entrance right next to me, until, right before we reach the sign, he slides his hand around and takes mine. My heart does a somersault that would make that little blue frog devil proud. It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment.
