From downstairs she heard Scamp bark, followed by Caroline’s murmur and the sound of the back door opening. In moments Scamp joined the men, dancing around their feet as they played. It was the perfect picture of domesticity. Of a family.
Of a future.
‘It scares the hell out of me,’ she said.
Kate was silent for a moment. ‘I hear that. But you’ve dealt with worse, haven’t you? What else is going on? C’mon, don’t hold out on me. If you’re freaking out enough to cut your trip short, something big must’ve happened. Band Boy didn’t buy you a sweatshirt with kittens on it for Christmas, did he? Because I will so kick his ass for you.’
Leah laughed again, wishing the humour would chase away the nausea bubbling in the pit of her gut. ‘God, no. They gave me gloves and a scarf. You know, something sort of neutral but appropriate. And bath stuff.’
‘Spill it,’ Kate demanded. ‘I can hear the freak-out in your voice.’
Leah swallowed and sat on the bed again. Brandon’s mother had made this quilt from shirts he’d worn as a kid. He’d lived in this house, slept in this room. His soccer trophies still decorated the shelves, his prom picture – so fucking cute, complete with the skinny tie and hair in his eyes, his date a punk-rock girl in a purple gown and Doc Martens – beside them. He had brought her here to share all of this, and she loved him for that.
‘I love him, Kate.’
‘Dude. Of course you do. Who could resist a guy like Brandon?’
That Kate hadn’t called him Band Boy meant an awful lot, and half-forced away the tears of panic clogging Leah’s throat. But only half. She swallowed again, hard, against the ball of emotion choking her.
‘I was helping Caroline put away the laundry, and I found something.’ Leah closed her eyes.
‘Something like secret porn-stash something? Or secret … uh oh. No way.’ Kate, Leah’s best friend since the eighth grade, had always been able to nearly read her mind. ‘Secret little velvet box sort of something?’
Leah, grateful she hadn’t had to say it aloud, nodded, though Kate couldn’t see her. ‘Yes.’
‘Let me guess. Not a pair of earrings.’
‘No.’
‘Well … I’d tell you I was surprised, but that would make me a liar,’ Kate said. ‘But were you surprised?’
She hadn’t been, exactly. They’d talked about marriage, in that roundabout, vague way that included the future, as in ‘someday we’ll name our first kid after Marlon Brando’ sort of talk. But it had always seemed so far away. Six months hadn’t been such a very long time, not when Leah considered the rest of her life. Yet coming here, seeing Brandon’s parents, his brothers and his entire family, Leah had no doubt that Brandon had been thinking about it.
‘I was,’ she admitted. ‘Not by the idea he might be thinking about it. But by the ring? Yes. Hell, yes. Shit, Kate. Shitdamnpissfucktits.’
The curse, a favourite since high school, leaked out under her breath and she rubbed at the sudden pain in the centre of her forehead. Downstairs, the door opened. The dog barked. She heard the low, familiar rumble of male laughter and Caroline’s fond scolding.
‘He hasn’t asked you yet, though, right? I mean, you just came across the ring. He hasn’t actually gone down …’ Kate giggled. ‘On one knee, I mean.’
‘I’m glad you can make crude sexual innuendos.’
‘Sorry.’ Kate didn’t sound the least bit sorry, but she did sound sympathetic when she spoke again. ‘If it’s any consolation to you, I’m about ready to wring Pickles’ neck for being a total douchetwat.’
Leah, guilty at not having even asked her friend how that was going, snorted lightly. ‘Ah, good old Pickles. She figure out how to open a jar yet?’
‘Are you kidding me? She’ll be lucky to have a hand left to open anything with if she doesn’t keep them off Dix.’
‘But to answer your question, no. He hasn’t asked. God. I don’t want him to. I need time to figure this out …’ Leah trailed off as Brandon called her name from downstairs. ‘Kate. I need to get out of here, seriously. I just …’
‘So get out of there,’ Kate said. ‘To tell you the truth, I think I might need to get the hell out of here, myself. How’s Vegas sound?’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Would I lie to you about Vegas?’
Brandon called her name again. Leah stood. ‘Yes. I mean no, you wouldn’t lie. Yes. Let’s go.’
There were details to be discussed, tickets to book. A hotel room to reserve. But for now, this minute, just knowing they were really going to do it lifted Leah’s spirits. The knowledge of escape made everything else seem bearable.
Well.
Maybe not another plate of Caroline’s homemade broccoli and processed cheese casserole, or another BeDazzled baseball cap.
She disconnected the call and thumbed the controls on her phone to bring up the airline website. In moments she’d checked out the flights. One left tonight, just after eleven. She sent Kate a quick text message to let her know.
Then she went downstairs.
‘There you are.’ Caroline beamed as Leah came down the back stairs into the cosy, homey kitchen where Brandon and his dad were digging into the huge plate of chocolate cake Caroline must’ve just finished icing. ‘I thought maybe you decided to take a little nap up there.’
‘Oh, no … I was just looking at all of Brandon’s memorabilia.’ That wasn’t an outright lie. She had looked.
Caroline chuckled and poured Brandon a glass of milk, which he took without a second glance from her. ‘Nobody would blame you if you took a little nap, Leah. I know you can’t be getting much of a good night’s sleep.’
Leah, who’d been easing towards the lure of chocolate cake, looked up. Oh, no. Oh, gross. Caroline didn’t mean what Leah thought she meant, did she? Brandon’s mom did not just reference their sex life … did she?
‘I keep telling Caroline we need a better bed
