“Do you have my permission to marry my daughter? Yes, you do. You’re a good man, Beckham. And I hope you have a good plan for this engagement.” He stuck out his hand.
“What?” I didn’t even take it at first. “Are you sure?”
I extended my hand hesitantly.
“Let this be the last time you ever doubt yourself. The right question to ask,” he said, shaking my hand firmly, “is ‘how will I ask Mae to marry me?’”
Mr. O’Malley let go of my hand.
Let this be the last time you ever doubt yourself.
I wasn’t embarrassed to have to wipe away a tear. I was expecting the worst. A lecture, at least. About my behavior these past years with women. How to treat his daughter. So many possibilities had run through my mind, but complete acceptance had never been one of them.
“Actually, I have an idea about that,” I said. “But I need your help.”
“Shoot.”
I told Mr. O’Malley the plan, fully aware I’d only overcome one hurdle. The most important one was still very much yet to be determined…
44
MAE
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
Jules usually tutored on Tuesday afternoon, but since her client cancelled, I had a riding partner.
“Absolutely. I’m excited to meet her.”
Last night I got a call from Ellie asking if there was any way I could meet her today. She had an “unexpected event” and wanted to place her first official order. After talking to my parents, I spent the rest of the night figuring out pricing since I was going to have to quote her. Between that and researching names and business cards… I was almost able to keep my mind off Beck.
Almost.
He texted me, said he was sorry he’d missed me at the inn. But his messages were short and didn’t say anything about meeting up. I told him that I wouldn’t be in today, and he said it wasn’t a problem, that they were covered.
And that was it.
“I find it strange,” I said now as Jules turned off my road. “Beck texted and called after yesterday’s lunch, but since then, he hasn’t said a word about meeting up.”
“Yeah,” Jules said. “That is strange.”
“It doesn’t feel like a conversation I want to have over text but”—I frowned—“I’m thinking to have you drop me off at the bar later, but that’s not really a great place to talk either. I just hate this place we’re in.”
Jules gave me a sidelong glance.
“How are you feeling about the whole thing today?”
I stared out the window. “The same as yesterday at lunch, I guess. But with a little more hesitation. I went there to tell him about the business. To tell him I was ready to see if this could work, between us. And then things went totally sideways. I don’t know, maybe we’re just better off as friends.”
“Do you really believe that?”
I thought back to two nights ago.
“No. As evidenced by the dream I had last night. It was one of those you remember when you wake up, you know?”
“I do. Last week I had a dream I was renovating my house and forgot to install stairs so I couldn’t get to the second floor. I still remember it clearly.”
I did a double take. “That’s weird. What do you think it means?”
