He shook his head. “It’s not yours yet. But I promise it will be waiting.” He left a single kiss on her forehead, then walked into his closet and presumably tucked the ring away.
Brooklyn climbed on to the bed, then waited for him to return. It felt like a lifetime, even though it was only a few seconds. He stretched out next to her, and she settled into his arms, her heart and mind filled with the most unusual combination of shock and hope. It felt like she’d seen the spark that could start her dream tonight. There was a small chance her body was leaping into action right now. A spark. That might grow into a tiny fire. She pulled her knees up a little higher.
Yes, it was silly. But that was the thing about dreams and hopes. They didn’t always make perfect sense.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Without fail,Brooklyn and Virginia had watched the Thanksgiving Day parade every year when they were growing up. They’d always looked forward to it, in part because it was one of the few days their mom took off from work. Once or twice, she’d actually taken them into the city to see it in person. Brooklyn had lovely memories of bundling up in layers and layers of clothes, staring up at cartoon character balloons floating overhead, all seen through the fog of her breath in the cold.
Last year, Brooklyn was still in the pits over her breakup with Alec, so she’d asked that they skip the parade. She didn’t think she could handle watching Alec’s handsome face on TV while he was wrapped up in an artfully draped cashmere scarf and wool coat, talking about marching bands.There’s no shame in a failed relationship, her mom had said.It’s better to get over it now. So, yes, they’d watched it. And Brooklyn asked for the job of cutting onions for the toasted bread stuffing, just so she could cry without being admonished for it.
And so it was on again, blaring from the TV in the corner of her mother’s great room while the three Monroe women worked on the Thanksgiving meal. The turkey was already in the oven, filling her mom’s luxe apartment with heavenly holiday smells. Her mother’s unit was on the top floor of a newly renovated building only a few blocks from Virginia. The place was impeccably put together, every throw pillow and original work of modern art carefully considered, allwithout the use of an interior designer, their mother was quick to point out to anyone who would listen. Brooklyn was most envious of the panoramic view of the city through the soaring windows. It was like being in an urban treehouse. If Brooklyn ever moved out of Manhattan, this would be a spectacular place to land.
“Mommy! Mommy! Al-wec’s on again!” Dallas announced from the little kingdom he’d built in front of the television, complete with coloring books and approximately seven million of those little interlocking plastic blocks it hurts like hell to step on in bare feet. His sister Paris was out with Virginia’s husband, Tom, picking up the forgotten fresh cranberries.
“So I see,” Virginia said. “Now stop jumping on the sofa or your grandmother will take you out of the will.”
“I will never take my grandchildren out of the will,” their mom said. “I’ll make you pay for it instead.”
Brooklyn, who’d been busy trimming the ends off Brussels sprouts, exchanged a knowing glance with her sister, then returned her sights to the TV. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face as she eyed Alec, even when things were once again imperfect between them. She also couldn’t keep her brain from focusing on the question of whether or not that broken condom had resulted in anything more than a minor spat and a failed proposal of marriage. Every barely perceptible twitch, zap, or rumble her body made was another reason to ask herself a barrage of questions. Couldn’t sleep—was she worried or pregnant? Unusually hungry—too busy or pregnant? Big burp—too much pizza or pregnant?
“Alec is just so handsome,” her mother said.
“Mom, you say that like it’s his only redeeming quality.”He’s also kind and caring and smart and amazing with my nephew.
“No. I say that because it’s a good way for me to casually bring him up in conversation.” Her mother plopped a stick of butter into a sauté pan and turned on one of the gas burners on her industrial cooktop. “Honestly, I can’t see him that well across the room.”
“Nice one, Mom.” Virginia laughed, busy chopping fresh thyme and rosemary. “Why don’t you just come out and ask?”
“You know I don’t like to pry.”
“Also a good one.” It was fairly obvious to Brooklyn that her mom and sister were up to something. “Ask me what?”
“What is going on with you and Alec? You’ve done nothing to disprove the notion that it’s not a real relationship.” Of course, her mom delivered all of this while looking at the melting butter in the pan, not Brooklyn. “According to Virginia, you’re spending an awful lot of time with him.”
That last bit came as a surprise. She and Virginia had an ironclad code of secrecy between them. “So you two have been talking about this?” Brooklyn asked.
“I legitimately don’t like to pry,” Virginia said. “Especially when it comes to Alec. I know it’s not simple. I figure you’ll talk to me about it when you’re ready.”
Good God, Brooklyn loved her sister. She understood. “That’s the perfect way to put it.”
“Care to elaborate?” her mom asked.
“Sure,” Brooklyn said, essentially giving up. “We’re spending a lot of time together. We’re working on it.” She then went on to briefly explain the waiting game with Alec’s job, as well as his doubts about fatherhood. “But there’s a new wrinkle.”
“Oh really?” her mom and Virginia asked in near-perfect unison.
“Yeah. There’s a chance… a tiny one…” Brooklyn made a point of whispering. “That I might be pregnant.”
“Pregnant by Alec?” her mother asked a little too loudly.
“Yes, Mom. Seriously.”
Her mother shrugged. “Don’t act so shocked. It’s not like you didn’t have a busload of men after you.”
“What happened?” Virginia asked, apparently now open to the act of prying.
Brooklyn stopped short of explaining the mechanics, and simply dubbed it a failure of birth control. “He asked me to marry him, but I didn’t want him to feel trapped in that decision just because we possibly made a baby.”
