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“I just want to focus more on what’s important.”
His eyebrows raise. “Your happiness is important, is it not?”
I feel an argument coming on. We haven’t argued in nearly a week. Maybe longer. “You make me happy,” I tell him. I want to continue the good streak.
“Yes,” he smiles. “But so does your—what do you call them—your tribe?”
“Oh,” I say, waving him off. I half snort. “You know that’s mostly for the church— the reason I share so much—but—” I pause. I’ve already said too much. I don’t want to talk about the church or any of that right now. That part, I’m saving for later.
He cocks his head. “But what?”
“I don’t know.” I search for my shoes. “It just sort of started to feel like a job.”
“People depend on you, Josie. You lift them up. You give them hope. So, in that way it is sort of a job.”
He’s stroking my ego, and I have to admit I kind of like it. I spot my heels. “You’re right,” I say, slipping them on. “Here,” I say pausing to hand him my phone. “Can you take it?”
He smiles. It takes more effort than one realizes trying to get a decent shot with one hand. He does a good job. But then, he’s good with his hands. I filter it anyway. Night on the town with my man, I caption it. #bestsurpriseever
“Josie,” he says grabbing my wrist. My eyes follow his grip. “You forgot the bracelet.”
“Shit,” I say. My mouth forms a hard line. I glance toward the house. “I took it off when we made love.”
“Yes.” He smiles. “I remember.”
I take my phone from my clutch. I haven’t seen my husband this happy in ages. “I’ll have Avery run it out.”
“Don’t.” He places his hand on the phone. “I’ll get it.”
I watch as he jogs through the front door. I check Instalook. One thousand and thirty-four likes so far on my photo. My audience has grown significantly over the weekend. Maybe my husband is right. Maybe a break isn’t what I need. I snap a photo of my new nail color and post it for good measure. I specifically don’t mention the color so people will ask. Engagement is everything. Grant emerges from the house. He stops on the top step and holds the bracelet up triumphantly. I throw my head back and laugh. Maybe I won’t discuss my decision with him tonight after all. Maybe it can wait.
“Ready?” he asks after he clasps the bracelet around my wrist. He brings it to his lips.
I nod.
He puts the car in reverse. I respond to the comments on my nails. It’s midnight blue.
“People really shouldn’t park on the street,” he says, pouncing on the brake abrupt
ly. “It’s against HOA rules.”
I look up from my phone. “I think they’re just waiting,” I tell him craning my neck. “See. There’s someone in the car.”
“Well then,” he mumbles. I look over. He’s squinting, trying to get a better look. My husband hates to be wrong. “I wish they’d wait somewhere else.”
“Where are we headed?” I inquire, changing the subject.
“Downtown,” he says. He meets my eye. His jaw is set. “Call Avery and ask her to make sure I locked the front door, please.”
I’m replying to a comment. I remember I’d forgotten to go back in and tag the photo with the nail polish brand. Sometimes they send me free stuff. This will help. “Do it now,” he says, sternly. It causes me to jump. I tap out of Instalook. He swings the car around and then looks over at me. He presses his lips to one another. “Never mind. I’ll just go back and check myself.”
I’ve checked the cake and the caterer and the gift table. I’ve laid out napkins and inspected the wine glasses for smudges. “This is a big deal,” Grant says. He can see my concern. He wants everything to be perfect too. “How many times does your son turn sixteen?”
“Just once,” I smile.
“You look beautiful,” he says. He’s not looking at me, though.
“I don’t like this top,” I say later, checking myself in the mirror. Everything is about presentation. “I think I’m going to change.”
