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“Yeah? That would be awesome. Gena does bail sometimes.”
“I’d love to, if Rain would allow it.”
Thomas smiled. “That would be great,” he said. “?’Cause, you know, I was going to propose.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Really,” he said. “I mean, the getting down on one knee thing might be out.”
Then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the ring, like proof.
It was an emerald stone, surrounded by diamonds. It was elegant and simple, a classic design.
I looked up at him, trying not to show my confusion. Why was he showing me the ring? Why was he telling me about the proposal at all? He certainly didn’t need my approval. But he wanted to need my approval. It was the kindest way I could think of for him to tell me that he was hoping we would work it out. My sister and me. He was hoping we’d be okay.
I
t reminded me of Danny. He had done the same thing before proposing. My father had died, not too long before, but he had driven out to Montauk to talk to Rain, to tell her he was going to ask. He told me later that they had gone to the lighthouse with coffees, and he’d told her he would take care of me. He wouldn’t tell me what she had said, and I imagined at the time it was probably something snarky about how it wasn’t her permission to give. But he had won her over that day all the same. In the gesture. In the fact that he’d acknowledged how much we mattered to each other, even if we couldn’t.
“What do you think?” Thomas said.
“It’s stunning,” I said.
He smiled. “Thanks . . . happy you think so.”
I handed him the ring, trying to fight back tears.
“Are you going to cry?”
I shook my head, the tears already starting to fall. “Definitely not.”
“That’s convincing.”
“I think it’s the pregnancy,” I said. “I keep crying at everything.”
“I won’t tell,” he said.
Which was when the front door swung open, and Rain ran in. She was completely drenched.
“Holy crap, it’s terrible out!” she said.
Then she realized that I was there.
“Oh . . .” She looked back and forth between us. “What’s going on here?”
Thomas quickly pushed the ring back into his pocket as I wiped the tears from my eyes. “Nothing,” he said. “Is it raining?”
She reached for a small kitchen towel and tried to dry herself off. “You’re funny,” she said.
She walked over to the table and stood behind Thomas, putting her hand on his shoulder, and nuzzled into his neck.
“Ah, so wet!” he said.
She leaned down and kissed him. “Deal with it,” she said.
And he did, holding her face to his, the water from her hair splattering across his chest. She smiled and, for a second, my sister looked like my sister.
She looked up, nodded. “Hi there,” she said.
