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“We have an idea,” my mother continues, shooting a quick glance at my father. “Propose to Ivy.”
My surprise reflects on my face.
“She’s expecting your child after all, so it’s not a farfetched idea. That way, if the story does come out, it won’t have any merit,” she says.
She’s right. The idea plays around in my mind. Coming to a decision is easy. I have feelings for Ivy. Deep feelings. I might even be in love with her. Proposing to her is no hardship. I nod. “Good idea.”
My mother leans forward in her chair. “But you can’t tell Ivy the truth.”
I frown. “I can’t lie to her about my reasons for proposing.”
She rolls her eyes as if she can’t comprehend my level of honesty. “What woman is going to agree to an engagement under those terms?” She pauses for a beat and then continues, “No one.”
Lies over more lies. I hate this, but I also see her point. Besides, it’s not really important that she knows this. What matters are my feelings for her, and I’d marry Ivy tomorrow if she said yes. It’s a shocking thought. Ivy is that important to me, and I visualize a future with her.
“We’d appreciate you keeping this to yourself. I know you boys talk about everything. Don’t tell them,” my mother says.
I liked it when my life was only about surgery and Ivy. This lying to the most important people in my life doesn’t sit well with me. What I do know is that the fewer people who know the truth, the better.
We have coffee together, and then I excuse myself to head home. The more I think about proposing to Ivy, the more excited I become. And not because of saving the clinic. I like the idea of being engaged to Ivy. I like it very much.
***
I pick up the ring from a jewelry store recommended by Dylan. He would know. He’s very generous with the women he dates. I found the ring a few days ago, and when I pick it up, it’s the perfect size for Ivy. At least, I hope it is.
I drive to pick up Ivy. We’re going to a farmer’s market, something I’ve never done before. She’s out of the house before I can turn off the engine, carrying a basket and wearing a sun hat and sleeveless dress that look stunning on her.
I kill the engine and jump out of the car to get the door for her. But first, I pull her into my arms for a quick hug and kiss.
“You look beautiful,” I tell her and pat her belly. “You and the baby.”
“Thank you from both of us.”
I take the basket and throw it at the back of the car, and then I open the front passenger door for her.
“It’s the perfect weather for being outdoors,” Ivy says when I get into the car.
“You are perfect,” I tell her with a happy grin. Joy seeps from every part of me. I feel happy for no particular reason.
Ivy notices it too. “I’m glad to see that whatever was bothering you is not anymore.”
I merely smile, but I don’t comment. The farmer’s market is only a ten-minute drive from Ivy’s place. We park the car and join the throng of people with the same idea. I’m the basket carrier, and I insist on paying for everything.
“You shouldn’t,” Ivy hisses when I pay for the tomatoes. “I’m well off financially, thanks to you.”
“Make me happy and let me do it. It makes me feel manly,” I whisper back.
She giggles. “Okay. Who am I to take away a man’s masculinity?”
It’s fun trailing behind her, watching her examine vegetables and fruits and then buy them. An hour later, we head back to the car, laden with enough food to feed a family of ten for a month.
The ring burns a hole in my pocket. I can’t wait for the right moment to propose. I try to imagine her reaction and fail. Will she be ecstatic, or will fear cloud her eyes? Ivy is unpredictable. We haven’t known each other long enough for me to predict her reaction to my proposal.
We go back to her place and together, we make lunch. I’m glad Peter is not home. That dude makes me uncomfortable.
The opportunity to propose comes after lunch when Ivy suggests we sit on the rocking chairs outside on the porch. I check that the ring is still in my jacket pocket.
Instead of sitting down, I follow Ivy to her chair. She sinks on it, and then I go on one knee and take her hand. She looks at me with surprise and a hint of disbelief. A flash of guilt slices through me. I never imagined myself proposing for the purpose of saving the clinic.
