Page 72 of Restored Dreams

“Are you happy?” Midge asks me, her voice softening. She squeezed my fingers at Brut’s rushed announcement, and she hasn’t let go since.

“Of course,” I say, my other hand coming to my lower belly. It’s becoming instinctive to reach for lima bean even if I can’t hold her yet. I don’t even have as much of a bump as Midge to justify touching myself like this, but it brings me comfort. A reminder I’m doing the right thing.

I don’t want to be unrealistic. I’m old enough to recognize I’m not so young; I don’t need to panic that I’m having a baby. I can do this. I also accept that people marry for all kinds of reasons. I don’t need to be in love to get married, but I want to. I mean, I am in love with Brut, and I have no doubt Brut cares a great deal about me. He also seems genuinely excited about the baby. But love me? That hasn’t been determined yet.

From what Brut has told me, he takes care of things. His personal history proves it. I understand wanting the baby on his insurance. And I appreciate his desire to be on the birth certificate from the start, considering the issues he had with Chopper. Both of those things are a reminder of what Brut went through the first time, and I want to do it right for him this time.

Which is how I suddenly find myself engaged to the man of my dreams but feel a large gap in what’s happening. I could have everything with Brut—everything—but I’m missing the beyond he mentions. I want his heart.

“You don’t seem very happy,” Midge says, speaking like she might spook me.

“I just thought…I hoped…it would be for love, not insurance and names and Brut being responsible like he always has been.”

“Brut might be responsible, but marriage? That’s such a huge step. It’s pretty spontaneous of him.” Midge’s facial expression confirms her surprise.

“Which still isn’t love, though, and I shouldn’t even be saying this to you as his sister-in-law.” I give Midge’s hand a squeeze to signal I need to let go.

“I’m about to be your sister-in-law, too, but I’m your friend first. You and Brut are being stupid.”

“I know, right?” I exhale with relief, hopeful she understands. “This whole arrangement is out of hand.” Getting married is a big deal. We don’t need to be joined in such a way. We both agree about the legal details. I’m not going anywhere, and I know Brut intends to stick. We don’t need to get married to prove anything. Except I’d like to marry him, if he loved me.

“No, what’s dumb is you are in love. With each other.”

“Did he say that he’s in love with me?” I don’t know why I ask as if I’m a love-sick teen. I hate that I sound desperate for reassurance.

“Hasn’t he? Don’t you feel it? He wants to marry you. He’s changing his house to give you a home. He wants to be there for you financially. For your business, your baby, your heart.” Midge’s voice rises with her enthusiasm. “Sorry, I’m excitable lately.”

“Why doesn’t he tell me how he feels, then?”

Midge stares at me a moment. “He hasn’t said he loves you?”

I shake my head, feeling the burn in my nose and prickle of my eyes. I’m so tired of the tears.

“I’m so sorry, Lily. I know he does. Men can be so…stupid.” She reaches out for me, but this time it’s for more than my hand. Midge hugs me, and I melt into her comfort. I do need her friendship. I want her as my sister. Maybe I’ll gain something else I’ve never had through Midge.

“What’s going on in here?” Hank chuckles as he stands inside the kitchen. Brut stands behind his brother with a plate full of steaks and grilled vegetables in his hand. I quickly swipe at the tears, keeping my back to Brut, and Midge speaks with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Girl stuff.”

The plate practically slams on the table, and I jump. Brut is before me instantly, pushing back my chair so he can squat in front of me.

“What is it?” he asks, softening his tone as his thumb wipes at the corner of my eyes, catching a traitorous tear before it falls.

“Nothing,” I lie, cupping his face. I’m on the verge of having it all in the palm of my hands. I’m happy. I am. Almost.

+ + +

“This isn’t a good time. I’m so busy,” I say as October shifts to early November, and we still aren’t married. I’ve been putting Brut off as best I can. He set a date, and then the insurance adjusters wanted to inspect the bakery. He picks another date, and Ester plays sick for me, so I have to work. The bakery relies on me. I need to be there for orders and deliveries, and with the holiday season in full swing, I’m too busy to take an afternoon off, head to the nearest courthouse, and sign some paper binding myself to Brut…when he doesn’t love me.

“Why do I feel like you’re brushing me off?” he snaps as we stand in the kitchen. The beautiful kitchen is finally finished with a black countertop, white subway tile backsplash, and a fountain faucet over the farmhouse sink. It’s everything I could have asked for in a kitchen.

“I’m not,” I lie.

“Don’t you want to get married?” Such a loaded question.

If I say yes, Brut will push, but he won’t understand why I shouldn’t. While I’ve wanted marriage my whole life, I’ve also wanted it to be for love. We’ve put the proverbial cart before the horse with a baby. Brut’s beyond excited for the baby, kissing my belly and helping pick out colors for a nursery. The house has three bedrooms. When Hank moved out, Brut took Hank’s room, so the nursery will be Brut’s original bedroom. He tells Lima Bean, her unofficial nickname, he loves her often because he’s convinced the baby is a girl, and when he does such sweet things, I’m lost in the possibilities of our future. A good man. A great father. But what about a loving husband?

If I say no, Brut will plead, and I can’t explain why I won’t. How do you say to a man I want you to love me? Tell me you love me, and I might feel better. You can’t say that to a guy because, as Midge said, men are dumb. Brut will say what I want to hear, and then I’ll wonder if he means it because I made him say it. Maybe he didn’t want to say it, and maybe he doesn’t feel it; maybe he’s just having fun, which is what I hear him say to Hank this morning on the phone. A new wave of insecurities drown me.