CHAPTER 27
Tapping my thumbs swiftly across the screen, I answer the text from Millie and put my phone on the table. Several days have passed, but I haven't headed back yet. Millie did the math and realizes that I'm cutting it really close. I tell her not to worry and put the phone down. I just didn't want to leave Dad yet. He likes having me around. The only time he smiles is when he walks into a room and sees me. There's always surprise on his face, like he'd forgotten that I came back.
Peter glances over at me. Dad's been letting him sleep on the couch, which helps a lot. If I can't sleep, I come downstairs and sit with Peter on the sofa. He wraps his arms around me and we stare at the television until dawn. I manage to pass out for a few hours at a time. I keep reminding myself that time will lessen the vise on my heart, that it'll unclamp eventually and I'll be happy again.
Peter pokes his pancakes. Aunt Beth is still cooking for us. At first I thought she was here for Dad, but I think she's here for her. Mom and my aunt were good friends, and I can tell that my aunt feels better when she's in the kitchen cooking. I'm going to get so fat—well, Mr. Turkey is going to be morbidly obese. The bird eats anything I don't finish, and he really likes bacon. I'm thinking about taking a pound of uncooked bacon out of the package and dropping it off the roof so it splatters on the patio. It'll be like old times for the bird, minus the trucks.
"Stop hording bacon for that beast." Peter reaches across and steals a strip from me.
"There's plenty more bacon, hon!" Aunt Beth calls out from the kitchen.
I grab the strip away just as Peter's about to eat it, and he bites air. I laugh and toss it out the back door to Mr. Turkey. "Get your own."
"You did not just do that," Peter says after blinking in shock. He's got dark, tousled hair, two-day scruff on his beautiful face, and a flick of mirth in his eyes. A dark T-shirt clings to his chest and makes his eyes appear bluer than possible. Without warning, Peter leans into me and tickles my side.
I nearly jump out of my seat, trying to avoid his hands, but Aunt Beth is there. She swats him with the back of the spatula. "None of that at the table, young man."
I laugh because he's a doctor and my aunt is scolding him like a child. It's hysterical, and Peter has no idea what to do with it. He finally swallows his smile and says, "Sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."
"Ma'am?" Aunt Beth glares at him. "How old do you think I am?"
I point at Peter and laugh. "Come on, Dr. Granz, kiss her ass and say sorry."
He looks confused. That phrase is respectful in Texas, but up here the women act like it means they're old and decrepit. I continue to snigger at him and get a smack with the spatula, too.
Aunt Beth shakes her head at me. "Table manners, Sidney. And stop feeding that thing. It'll never leave if you're giving it bacon every day."
"I'll never leave if you keep feeding me bacon every day," Peter says to Aunt Beth.
It was the right thing to say because she beams. "Oh, stop." Then she takes his plate and says, "Let me get you some more."
Peter waggles his brows after folding his arms across his chest. He leans his chair back so it's on two legs and gives me the most arrogant smirk I've ever seen. "She likes me better than the turkey."
"Everyone likes you better than the turkey."
"What about you?"
"At the moment, or in general?" I don't look at him. I take a bite of muffin, or I plan on it, but Peter swats it out of my hands and the treat lands on my plate.
I do a slow-motion turn and see Peter looking pleased with himself. "You suck."
"You like it."
My jaw drops into a surprised smile and I shove his shoulders. The chair slips out from under him, and Peter topples over onto the floor. Aunt Beth choses that moment to appear in the doorway. "Enough of this. If you two want to act like children, then go outside." She places the bacon on Peter's plate, picks it up, and shoves it in his hand before clapping at us. "Come on. Take your things and eat in the yard. Out!"
Trying to keep from laughing, I grab my plate and walk out the door while biting my tongue. Peter follows after me with a shocked expression on his face. When we're at the swing, he sits next to me and says, "She threw us out."
I start laughing loudly and shove his shoulder. "You are such an ass."
"Sidney, focus on something besides my ass. I think we just pissed your aunt off. She banished us to the yard with the bird." Mr. Turkey chooses that moment to creepily saunter forward, looking for food. I toss him Peter's bacon. "Oh, you did not just do that."
"I believe I did. What you gonna do about it, Professor?" I tilt my head to the side and fold my arms across my chest.
Peter laughs and lunges at me. My plate of food goes flying with half of it landing on me and the rest falling to the ground under the swing. "You suck!"
"So you've said." Peter pushes me back so I'm lying on my back on the swing and he's leaning over me. He doesn't pin my wrists, so I don't freak out. Plus there's egg yolk dripping down my forehead like I've been shot in the head by a chicken. Peter dips his finger in the yellow goo and trails it down to my cheeks and makes a heart.
I squeal, kick, and laugh. I manage to push him off and Peter falls off the swing. I roll and land on top of him. Grabbing the fallen food, I take some scrambled eggs and try to shove them in his mouth—grass and all. "Eat it, Ferro. Come on, open wide."
A horribly wicked grin crosses his face, which makes me go still. "Sidney, please, it's not coffee time yet." He starts laughing so hard that his whole body shakes with me on top.
"Say that again. I dare you."
"Talk dirty to me—" Peter doesn't finish the sentence because I shove the eggs into his mouth. He's grinning at me. Instead of spitting the fallen food out, he chews it and says, "It's a little crunchy."
"Hey!" Dad yells from the back porch. "You get off of him. Don't make me get the hose, Sid!"
My face turns beet red and I slip off of Peter and sit down hard next to him. Peter can't stop grinning. He looks back at my dad and waves. My father shakes his head. "You don't want to be on my list, boy. It ends with a shovel and a long car ride, if you know what I mean. Get her knocked up and I'll ruin your life, kid." Dad walks inside without waiting for an answer.
Peter and I look at each other and we both start laughing like crazy. After a few minutes Peter lies back on the lawn and says, "I didn't knock you up, did I? Just for the record, I need to know that kind of thing so I can buy you and the baby a house and run like hell when your father finds out."
"I'm not pregnant, Peter. I'm on the pill. I've been on it since stuff happened with the asshole." I pull my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around my ankles. "So do you want the 2.5 kids, the little house, and the whole picket-fence thing?"
"Maybe." He grins so hard that I know he's teasing me and means hell yeah. "What about you?"
"Maybe. It probably depends on who's knocking me up and buying the house, you know. Little things like that."
"Me." Peter's voice is deadly serious. "What if I was the one who held you at night, every night? What if I was the father of your children? And the surrogate parent of your vulture? What would you think of that?"
I tap my finger to my lip as if I'm pondering the thought. "Would there be dancing?"
He nods. "Always. Would there be bacon?"
I laugh. "Of course. What's the American dream without bacon?"
"You'll have to promise to love me with love handles, because your aunt's cooking and the massive amount of bacon will result in plumpness." Peter tucks his hands behind his head. There isn't anything plump about him, and he eats like the vulture.
"Only if you promise to love me forever and give me a lifetime supply of coffee. It turns out that I really like the coffee." I wink at him and can no longer contain my smile. It spreads across my face and seeps inside of me. "The past few days have been so hard and so wonderful, too. I don't want you to go, but I know you have to. Things can't stay this way forever."
"Who says they can't?" Peter looks at the food all over the ground. Mr. Turkey has returned and is pecking a piece of sausage over by the eggs and muffin remains. Peter scrambles over to the spilled food, shooing the bird. He lifts the muffin that I tried to eat several times and brushes it off. "I planned this whole romantic thing, but let me ask you this—will you marry me?"
I think he's kidding. I tuck my hair behind my ear and tease him. "You like the coffee, too, admit it."
Peter walks toward me on his knees and hands me the muffin. "I love the coffee. I love you."
I take the muffin and look at it. "What?"
"I know we both can't eat food that fell on the ground, but how about you look for the surprise inside?"
"What are you talking about?" I laugh and look over at him. What did he do? I start pulling the muffin apart until something hard hits my finger. After brushing away the crumbs, I'm left holding a diamond ring between my fingers. I look at the ring and then back up at Peter. "You're really asking me?"
"Yes, I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you marry me, Sidney?"
My face scrunches into the worst expression I can imagine. Laughter and tears blur together and I bleat like a sheep. Peter smiles uncertainly, waiting for my answer, but I can't speak. I throw my arms around his neck, practically knocking him over, and shake my head. "Yes, yes!"
Peter picks me up and spins me around. We both shriek and laugh until he sets me down. Then Peter hollers at the back door, "She said yes! You can come outside now!"
I glance at him, surprised, and then at the door. My aunt rushes toward us with a weepy smile on her face and the spatula still in hand. She hugs both of us at the same time and is a mess of incoherent babbling.
When we pull away, Daddy is standing there looking stern. "I meant what I said. You take care of her."
"I will, sir." Peter shakes Dad's hand before he turns to me and hugs me so tight that my head pops off.
Sam is behind them, looking Samish. He's pouting today because Dean decided to move on a whim. Like the guy packed up his stuff and fled. When Sam told me that, I was so glad that I had trouble hiding it. There's no chance of seeing Dean again at all. After Sean and Peter finished with him, Dean ran off with his tail between his legs. Dean didn't tell Sam anything, just that he'd had it with this hellhole and had to take off for someplace better.
Sam tries to feign happiness. "Congratulations, Sid. I'm happy for you." He gives me a quick hug and then walks over to Peter. "Don't make me kick your ass if you mistreat her."
I watch to see Peter's reaction and hope he doesn't knock Sam's head off his shoulders. Sam always says the wrong thing and now is no exception. Peter gives my brother a lopsided grin and pulls him into a bear hug like the one my dad just gave me. "Wouldn't think of it, kid. And I'd always wanted a bouncing baby brother like you!" Sam pulls away with a funny look on his face while the rest of us laugh. Sam finally smiles and offers his hand to Peter. They shake and lean in, saying more things that I can't hear.
"I knew she was after your money, Pete. Why else would she say yes?" I turn quickly on my heel. Sean is standing behind everyone, looking smug. He's got that leather jacket and biker boots, and looks beyond scary with his helmet under one arm. I'm sure my dad is glad that I picked Peter and not Sean.
"Jackass!" Peter says proudly, "You came!" Peter's got his brother in his arms in two seconds. They slap each other on the back and then on the face, like they've done that since they were kids.
"Of course I came. When you said you were giving her a ring, I wanted to make sure she didn't eat it by accident. Who puts a ring in a muffin?" Sean shakes his head in disapproval, like it was a stupid way to propose.
"Are you ever polite?" I ask and fold my arms over my chest, glaring at him.
"Are you seriously asking me that question?" Sean tries to hide a smile as he walks toward me and hands me a little box. "Here."
I glance around. "If Mr. Turkey's heart is in here on a pillow—"
"Just open the box, wiseass." Sean turns away, but the hostile looks he's getting from Dad and Aunt Beth make him turn back again.
I pull away the paper to reveal a little black box. Honestly, I'm afraid to open it. I glance at Peter. "Do you know what it is?" He shakes his head and steps closer.
"People typically find out the answer to that sort of question by removing the lid." Sean's gaze catches mine. His expression is almost daring me to open the box, which totally freaks me out. I look around for my turkey, seriously concerned this time. "For God's sake." Sean reaches forward and lifts the lid. There is a pillow inside the little box. Attached to the pillow is a little bow that's holding a brass key in place.
I untie the bow and lift the key. "What is this?"
"The little house with the white picket fence, minus the two kids, because I'm not doing that with you." Sean's snarky tone makes Peter reach out and smack his brother on the back of the head.
I stare at the key. "You bought us a house?"
"Yeah, I thought you'd like it." I shake my head and try to hand him the key, but Sean steps back, saying, "No returns, Sidney."
"Well." I don't know what to say or what to ask. The gift is way too much and extremely unexpected. I think of a hundred reasons why I can't accept it, but something about the way Sean's standing lets me know how hard this is for him, that he's really trying to patch things up, but he knows that he completely sucks at it. The whole situation is awkward. Sean's been a prick since day one. I don't know what to do with this version of Peter's brother.
I swallow back down the discomfort and ask, "Where is it?"
"Far from here, at least four of five blocks that way." Sean points and the corners of his lips twitch like he wants to laugh. "I heard that second chances are hard to come by and I wanted to make sure that you guys got yours."
"You bought us a house?" Peter finally says, and sounds as shocked as I am.
"Why is everyone looking at me like I'm crazy? Where were you going to live? You needed a house, right?" Sean looks at Aunt Beth for confirmation, expecting her to agree.
Her eyebrows have crept up under her curled hair. She uses a tone that let's Sean know he bought the wrong thing, but she's gentle with him, like he's five years old. "Engagement gifts are usually cookie jars, dear. Something small. A house isn't small."
That makes everyone laugh. Sean smirks and lets the laughter roll off. "Fine, I'll buy them a bigger house for the wedding."
"No, no! One house is plenty." I'm standing in front of Sean, looking up into his face. For a second I think I see what Avery sees when she looks at him, but then the walls shoot up and it's gone. "I thought you didn't like me."
"I never said that," Sean replies.
"Uh, yeah, you did. You said something along the lines of 'I loathe you.'"
He shrugs his shoulders like it doesn't matter. "Yes, well it turns out that I was teasing. You have more backbone than most men, which is something to be admired."
"You admire me?"
"I didn't say that." Sean grins and turns away from us. He speaks over his shoulder as he walks off. "Take care of her, Peter. I'll be in the city for a few more weeks trying to wrap things up and save Jonathan from himself. That kid is going to get disowned at the rate he's going, and I don't want them trying to throw the whole heir thing back my way. Anyway, come visit whenever you want and bring your fiancée."
Sean disappears around the side of the house. After a few moments we hear a motorcycle engine rev as he takes off. Until that point, everyone was staring at each other like Sean was some sort of demented Santa Claus.
I let out a breath. "Well, that was unexpected and a little weird."
"Very. Sean hates everyone, but you won him over." Peter pinches my cheek and laughs as I swat him away. Making nice with Sean is too weird.
"He probably bought us a shack with an outhouse."
Dad speaks up for the first time during this conversation. "Last I checked, there weren't any hobo-style houses over on Sycamore. I think the guy really bought you a house."
Peter takes my hand and presses it to his lips. "Do you want to go see your new house, Future Mrs. Granz?"
"Totally. I need to see it to believe it. If Sean likes me, my whole axis-of-evil theory kind of got fried since Sean was the overlord." It makes me wonder why Sean erected so many barbed walls around himself. It's like he doesn't want anyone to give him a second glance, never mind get close.
The entire family follows us as we drive over to the address on the inside of the box. Sean had it written on the lid of the box in a fancy script. When I opened it, I didn't realize what it was. I thought it was the store where he got the key, not the address of our new house.
When Peter and I stop outside the house, it's so cute that I can't contain my excitement. It's a little Cape Cod, painted gray and white, with a big blue bow on the door. The front yard has been manicured with flower gardens like my mother had. Shasta daisies, impatiens, and big leafy hostas are everywhere. It looks like Sean copied her gardens exactly and put them here. I press my lips together as hard as I can, afraid that I'm going to start crying.
Peter pulls me from the car and walks hand in hand with me up the slate sidewalk to the front door. "The key, Mrs. Granz." I hand it to Peter, and he unlocks the door.
I glance back at the flowers and the fresh paint. "How did he do this so fast?"
Peter shrugs. "It's Sean. How does he do anything?" Peter takes my hand and puts it around his neck before sweeping me off my feet. I yelp as he picks me up.
"What are you doing?"
"Well, this is going to be our house. I have to carry you over the threshold. Or would you prefer to carry me?" Peter grins at me.
"I'll carry you on our wedding day."
"Deal." Peter carries me inside and stops. The house is beautiful and fully furnished. My jaw drops, and there's no way to take it all in fast enough. "Wow." Peter turns slowly, still holding me. There's a new kitchen, decked out with stainless appliances, granite counter tops, and the cutest bistro set I've ever seen. The dark floors from that room flow into the living room where we are standing. There's a fluffy white couch, built-in bookcases, a corner fireplace, and a huge television. My dad grunts with approval and finds a seat on the couch.
Peter turns again and faces a narrow staircase that leads to the bedrooms upstairs. "Want to go check it out?"
"Hell, yes. After seeing this, I want to run up the stairs." Peter sets me down and walks up the staircase with me. There's a small bathroom in the hall and a lovely second bedroom, complete with bed, nightstand, and a comfy chair. "This is so pretty."
Peter cracks the door to the master bedroom and says, "You're going to love this." I walk up behind him and try to peek around, but Peter pulls the door so I can't see. "While I was talking to Sean, I mentioned some things. I didn't tell him to do any of this. He figured it out on his own."
I laugh nervously. "Okay, now you're freaking me out." Peter smiles softly and pushes the door open. I stand frozen in the doorway. "Oh my God, it's beautiful." Everywhere I look is perfect. The room is soft colors, a very pale blue with big fat white moldings. The dark floor is stained with a gloss that's so shiny I can see my reflection. A big bed is against one wall with a padded headboard that has little jewels nestled in the tufts. A downy white bedspread is on top, and sheer fabric flows from the ceiling to the floor, draping the head of the bed. In the corner is an antique record player. I walk toward it slowly, thinking that it's a reproduction of an old Victrola, but when I'm standing over it I do a double take. I point at the record player. "Oh my God! That's real!"
Peter is walking around in the closet—at least I thought it was a closet, but his voice echoes. "Read the record label."
I glance at the black disc and squeal. "It's Benny Goodman! How did he find this stuff?" I turn the player on, careful not to scratch the record, and hear one of my favorite songs. "Oh my God, Peter. Could this be more perfect?"
"I don't know. You haven't seen this room yet." He sticks his head out and says, "Come take a look."
I walk through the small doorway, thinking that it's a storage room or something, and then gape. The attic was converted into a massive master bathroom. A white claw-foot tub sits under a skylight. White cabinets line the walls with big mirrors centered above hammered copper sinks. Tiny pale blue glass tiles glitter within wall niches, and a beautiful huge shower is nestled into the corner of the room. I stand there, staring.
"How did he have time to do this?"
Peter walks up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. "The obvious answer is that he started this the night he met you, but that seems unbelievable based on the way he behaved."
"Just a bit, yeah."
"I told him that I wanted to marry you, that you were the one. He knew from that night forward that I was serious about you." Peter turns me around in his arms. "This is a helluva present."
I nod and smile. "It means I don't have to leave Dad, and that me and you can have a fresh start, but what about a job?"
Peter releases me and pulls his phone from his back pocket. He taps the screen as he talks. "Since we'll be sharing a bank account, you should know our financial situation. Here"—he hands me his phone—"take a look."
I take it and glance down at the screen. I blink a few times, thinking that I'm seeing it wrong. When I glance up, Peter is smiling. "You said you were broke." I don't understand. He's loaded. Peter doesn't have to work if he doesn't want to, like ever. There's more money in his account than what Sean offered me back at the Ferro mansion.
"I said I wasn't the heir and that I was all right, and I am. I invested my trust fund and did well. I lived off my salary so this kept growing. I'm not as rich as Sean or Jon, but I'm far from broke." Peter grins at me. "I told you that I'd take care of you. Did you really think I had nothing?"
I nod and shove my eyeballs back into my face. "Well, yeah. Your living room was full of flakeboard furniture. It looked more like a dorm room than a professor's home."
He shrugs. "It wasn't home to me, so I didn't spend much to fix it up. There was no reason to, not until I met you."
"So you don't have to work?" Peter shakes his head. "But I bet you want to teach."
He nods and steps toward me. "Yeah, I liked being in a classroom."
"We'll have to do something about that."
"Actually," Peter says and glances up at me from under those dark lashes, "I already have. Remember how I mentioned that Jon's impulsive? Well, he bought something around here a couple years back."
"What did he buy?"
"A private school. He was trying to impress a hot girl."
"Aren't we all?" I can't imagine how that would help Jon impress a girl, but it sounds about right based on what Sean and Peter said about the youngest Ferro.
Peter laughs and says, "Jonathan Ferro Prep is about an hour from here and needs an English teacher."
"Is that so, Professor?"
He nods. "After my mother stormed off, Jon said he'd make me king if I helped him deal with Mom and his latest investment. When I realized where this school was located, I said yes. The only hitch in my devious master plan was if you wanted to go back to Texas or you said no when I proposed. I totally thought the turkey was going to eat your ring, by the way…speaking of the fat bird, come here." Peter moves to the window and pulls back the curtain. "Check it out."
I glance down and see an enormous perch right next to the patio with a big black bird sitting on it. "Aw, Sean delivered Mr. Turkey after we left."
"So"—Peter turns me toward him—"are we staying here or moving back to Texas?"
"It sounds like it's time to start over and this is the perfect place, the perfect house, with the perfect husband-to-be."
Peter takes me in his arms and dips his head, pressing his lips to mine. When he pulls away, he says, "I love you, Sidney Colleli."
"I love you, too, Peter Granz. Now give me some of that coffee you're always talking about."