GABE
All day I’d been trying to find the right time to give her the locket and tell her I was falling in love with her. But we’d been hustling and no time had felt quite right. Until now. It was a quarter to eight, and Lily and I were waiting at the rendezvous point that General Lee had sent by text. Of course, he didn’t text like a normal guy. Instead, he sent me a message that might as well have been off a strip of telegraph tape: DEAR SIR/STOP/AWAIT ARRIVAL AT CHATHAM LAKE AT 20:00/STOP/SNCRLY GEN. LEE
So there we were at Chatham Lake, which was overhung with mossy willows and littered with lily pads in bloom. All around us was thick Georgia forest. Lily grabbed a handful of stones from where the water lapped at the edge of the lake. I took the small jewelry box from my pocket and put it beside me, just out of her view. She came back and sat next to me. From her handful of stones she chose one that was round, smooth, and symmetrical. She glanced at me, smiled, and then skipped it across the water. It had three, four, five bounces before it slipped under the surface. Then she handed me an equally round and smooth stone and lifted her eyebrows. “Let me see what you’ve got.”
I followed her lead. I’d never actually skipped a stone before, but it couldn’t be that hard, I figured. I mimicked her throw, but mine sank immediately, and she tossed her head back, laughing softly. “Here.” She chose another stone, positioned it in my hand, and parted my fingers. “Think of it like a Frisbee.” She picked a rock for herself and in one smooth and graceful movement sent it skipping six times across the glassy surface of the water.
I tried again and had the same result as before. Plop. Sank like a stone, literally. She got up from her crouch and brushed some grass off her white shorts, giving me a powerful throb of desire. But I stayed the course. This wasn’t the time for down and dirty—that would be for later. Now it was time to get serious. I took the jewelry box and placed it where she’d been sitting. When she turned back to me, her eyes lit up, sparkling in the setting sun. She lowered herself down onto her knees, and I placed it in her hands.
Very carefully, tugging at the satin with thumb and forefinger, she undid the ribbon. She slipped the lid off, glancing up at me and smiling a little. But she froze when she saw the black velvet box inside. It was exactly like a ring box, and I knew what she was thinking because I had been thinking the same goddamned thing all day. I studied her every expression, her every move. She slipped the velvet box out and placed it on her knee, holding the edges between two fingers. On her face was a kind of pure, honest surprise. Innocence. Maybe even uncertainty. “Gabe . . .”
“Open it up,” I told her.
She flipped the top open. As she did, I saw something that made my heart fucking burst—disappointment. There was no question in my mind that she was disappointed that it wasn’t a ring. Holy shit. That microexpression, that tiny tell, gave me more courage than anything ever could have.
Her disappointment vanished and was replaced with that same delight she’d had when she’d opened the picnic basket I’d put together for her. “Oh, Gabe.” She slipped the locket out of the box, the chain dangling from her fingers. I took it from her and undid the clasp. She scooted around so her back was to me, scooped up her hair in her hand, and took off her microphone charm necklace. I fastened the tiny clasp at the back of her delicate neck, letting my fingers brush past the ringlet curls at her hairline. “There,” I said, and her hand went to the locket on her chest.
“Isn’t it beautiful.” She carefully ran her fingertips over the lily and the vines that surrounded it. “I love it so much. I’ll wear it always.”
“Look at the engraving,” I told her, reaching out to open it up for her. It butterflied apart, and she drew it back from her chest, crumpling her chin to read it.
Her mouth dropped open, and she traced the hand-carved letters with her fingertip. “This is old! But with our initials!”
“I know.” I straightened out the chain. “The lady at the jewelry store said it might’ve belonged to a lady named Lucinda, who got it from her lover George.”
She smiled so hard that I felt it right down in my bones. “I like Lucinda and George. But Lily and Gabe sounds much better.” She looked back down at the locket, with her cheeks bright and flushed. It was absolutely beautiful on her, like it was made for her.
“But wait! I have something for you too.” She grabbed her purse. “I got this when we went home to feed the General. When your back was turned,” she said, smiling mischievously as she unzipped the inside pocket. “Close your eyes.”
I pretended to close them but still kept her in view between my eyelashes. But she had me all figured out and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “All the way.”
“Fine. But you don’t make it easy.” I squeezed them shut. I held out my hand and waited.
“So . . . ,” she said. I heard her scoot closer toward me on the grass—Christ, that sexy sound of her thighs sliding together. “It’s not fancy, but now whenever you come here, you’ll have somewhere to stay.”
In my palm, I felt something small and metallic. I opened my eyes and saw it was a key. A house key. Her house key.
“Lily,” I said, gripping it hard in my palm. The wave of emotion that came up through my chest spilled into my voice.
“Well, don’t get excited,” she said, almost as if she were embarrassed. “It only cost me seventy cents, and I already had it in the drawer.”
She could be nonchalant all she wanted, but the look in her eyes told me that this meant just as much to her as it meant to me. I tucked the key into my pocket and took her beautiful face in my hands. Now or never, Powers. Do it. Tell her how you feel. Don’t waste one more second.
I took her hand in mine. I opened my mouth.
And the noise of a bugle cut the air, followed by the boom-boom-boom of cannon fire.
The rebel army had arrived. And I thought Markowitz had shitty timing.