JASON
The last day of our trip has come. Tomorrow we’ll be going back to the real world and tonight I’m hoping Britt tells me we can fly straight on to Vegas.
We’ve gotten along fantastically. If she tells me we should wait, I don’t know how I’ll take it. So, in trying to make sure I hear a yes from her, I’ve had some special things flown in and am picking them up at the front desk.
A few surprises, like my grandparent’s antique wedding rings that I had Mom send me. I think that will be sentimental to her and better than something with no meaning behind it.
There are also supposed to be some other things in the package too. I had Donovan get some things I’ve kept of hers all these years and I hope that shows her she’s always held a special place in my heart.
Granted, the special things are a pair of panties, a bra, and one shoe. I lost the other one somewhere along the way but managed to hold onto those things and a handful of love letters she wrote me back then.
I kept them all in a shoebox and forgot I had them in the top of my closet at home. But with grappling at what kind of sentimental things I could use to get her to decide to let me change her name, I recalled those things.
As I enter the reception area, I see a tall, thin woman behind the desk. She smiles at me. “Hello. What can I help you with today?”
“I was supposed to get a package for Jason Brennan. I hope you have it. We’re leaving tomorrow,” I say as I look at her hopefully.
She nods, and I let out the breath I was holding. She picks it up from behind the desk and taps her long fingers on a note on top. “It seems you need to make a phone call to a man named Donovan.” She points to a small room off to one side. “You can use the courtesy phone in there if you’d like, Mr. Brennan.”
I take my package and, after telling her thank you, I go to make the call and have to wonder what the hell he could have that’s so important. It has me feeling nervous, and I hate feeling like this.
Especially when I feel so damn nervous already about what Brittany is going to tell me in a little while. Putting the package down, I pick up the phone and make the call.
“Finally,” Donovan answers the phone.
“Nice greeting, Donovan. What’s up?”
“Are you sitting down?”
I sit down and say, “Now I am. Hurry up. You’re freaking me out.”
“Then get ready to really lose your mind. A lady showed up at your penthouse,” he says.
“That’s no big surprise, Donovan,” I say as I let out my breath.
Damn it! I’m on pins and needles here!
“The surprise is what she held in her arms. It was a baby, Jason.”
My wheels slow to a crawl as I try to figure out what the hell that has to do with me. “So?”
“So, she said it was yours. Her name is Beatrice. She’s from …”
I interrupt him. “She’s from New Holland, Texas. I know who she is. Number twenty-six, and that kid isn’t mine. I never have unprotected sex, and all of my women take oral birth control too. She’s lying.”
“She came with an order for you to appear in court in Texas on Wednesday. If you’re not there, then she said the judge, who is a dear friend of her family’s, will grant her child support from you. So you better make that your next stop.”
“How can she get away with just saying the kid is mine and getting child support?” I ask as I hold my head in my hands.
“I’m not sure. I can call your lawyer and have him meet you down there in New Holland for the court date.”
“Do that. Fuck! This messes up everything I had planned,” I say with a groan.
“What did you have planned?” he asks.
“Vegas. I wanted to leave here and go to Vegas and get married to Brittany.”
“Oh, man, that sucks. Well, maybe after the hearing you can do that.” He sighs. “If she’ll want to marry you after she finds this out.”
“Thanks for the information, Donovan. I guess we’ll be taking a detour through Texas to straighten this shit out.” I hang up and want to go choke that damn, lying woman who’s trying to mess up my life at the most inopportune time possible for me.
The crystal-clear water and the cool salty breeze do nothing at all to calm my now extremely frazzled nerves. When I walk up to our bungalow with the package in my hand, Brittany looks up from the book she was lying on a lounge chair on the porch, reading.
“What do you have there, honeybuns?” she asks me.
Taking her hand, I lead her inside as I debate on asking her this right now or telling her about my problem. I settle on asking her first. I need her by my side for the other thing, anyway.
I hand her the box. “Open it.”
She sits on the little sofa and pulls the brown paper off the package and smiles when she sees the old shoe box then says, “An old pair of Nikes. How thoughtful.”
“Open the box up and hand me the little box on the very top. Then look at the rest of the things.”
She opens the top and hands me the little jewelry box and smiles as she does. “That looks like it has a ring in it.”
“Can’t put anything past you, can I?” I chuckle. It’s forced, but I fake it for her sake so this can be a great memory for her.
It will always have some bad in it for me, but I can’t make that ruin it for her.
She pulls out her old bra and smiles. “I always wondered where this went. I guess it was left in your truck.”
I nod and point at the box. “There’s more.”
She pulls out the panties and wrinkles her nose. “Even these? My God, what did I have on when I went back inside my house?” She pulls out the one sandal. “I left without one shoe, too? Was I drunk that night?”
“On me.” I lean in and kiss her. “And you left both shoes. It was me who lost one sometime or another. I’ve moved a few times and somehow one has disappeared.”
She laughs and picks up the letters. All are folded into neat little shapes. “You saved all this, all these years?” The tears start flowing in slow trails over her pink cheeks. “I never in a million years thought you would save anything of mine.”
“I loved you. Of course I kept everything I had to remind me of you, sugar britches.”
“I tossed anything that reminded me of you. Every last thing.”
I move down on one knee in front of her. “That’s okay. I don’t blame you.” I open the small box and show her what’s inside. “These were my grandparents’. They passed away a few years ago. Mom asked me on my thirtieth birthday if I wanted them. I told her no at that time. I told her I wasn’t getting married. Ever!”
She laughs and I love the sound. “Not ever, huh? Just like me.”
I take her hand in mine and hold it to my heart. “Brittany, I’d like to use these rings in our wedding. And I’d like to officially ask you to become my wife, forever. Do you think that’s something you’d like to do in the near future?” I take out my grandmother’s solitaire diamond engagement ring and wait for her answer.
After what seems like forever, she speaks, “Jason, I would love to become your wife in the very near future.”
“Thank God!” I say as I breathe out. I take her hand and run the ring up her slender ring finger and find it fits perfectly. “What do you know about that, pumpkin?”
“I guess it was meant to be, huh?” she asks. “Do you think we can really do this, Jason? Do you think we can really be what each other needs for the rest of our lives?”
“I do,” I tell her, and pull her to kiss me, sealing the deal.
Nothing has ever felt more right in my life. And I feel better than I ever have, although there’s the heavy burden of what I’m up against now.
I end the kiss and she looks at the ring and then says, “So tomorrow, straight to Vegas, then?”
I bite my lip. “Well, we have to make a little stop in Texas. In three days, I need to be somewhere. It just came up.”
She pulls the other two rings out of the box and holds out my grandfather’s gold wedding band. “Let’s see if his fits you.”
I hold out my finger and she runs it on and it fits perfectly too. “Wow! This really is meant to be,” I say.
She runs her arms around my neck. “Take me to bed and show me how every night of my life will be spent as Mrs. Jason Brennan.”
I pick her up and carry her to the little bedroom and wonder when the right time is going to be to tell her this pretty bad news.
As I’m laying her back on the bed, she looks up at me. “I cannot wait to tell you that you’re going to be a father, Jason. I can’t wait to see the look on your handsome face when you hear those words for the very first time.”
Interesting she should say that.
Nope, I won’t be telling her tonight. Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe not ever. Does she really have to know about this?