The Truth

I go over, giving her a huge hug. We’re likely swapping dog hair from our clothes, but this is a celebration worth getting covered in dog glitter. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Huh . . . would have thought you’d send condolences,” Ace jokes. “A few years ago, you would have.” He’s trying hard to frown, but his happiness bubbles over and his face stretches into a goofy smile.

“You’re not that wrong,” I admit, giving my brother a hug too, “but a few years ago, a good woman like Harper wouldn’t have given you the time of day, much less said yes. So . . . story time!” I clap my hands greedily.

“Ace took me to the wine country,” Harper says as she plugs the memory card into her computer, “and it was as beautiful as you’d expect. We stayed at a B&B that was built onto a real winery. It was gorgeous.”

“We woke up in the morning with a view of the vineyards,” Ace adds as he goes back to shooting another dog, this one a lot more cooperative.

“It was straight out of a magazine article,” Harper gushes. “But that first day . . . can I tell her, honey?”

“Sure, it worked out in the end,” Ace says, rolling his eyes. “Eventually.”

“Eventually?” I double-check that the ring is on Harper’s finger because that does not sound like a sweet proposal-and-instant-yes type of fairy tale story.

Harper clicks around on the computer as she explains, “Ace set us up with a tour of the winery, the full experience. We got to watch them bottling from casks, preparing bottles, but the most fun was watching them crush grapes. We got to go up on a big walkway, looking down where they had these huge tubs with a big screw-like paddle in the middle. They’d feed the grapes in the top, and out the bottom would come this sludgy stuff, the juice and the skins and seeds all sort of mixed together.”

“They don’t stomp the grapes?” I tease, and Harper laughs.

“You can. They’ll let you, but for the big operation, it’s that screw thing,” Harper says. “They strain it, of course, but anyway . . . I was watching the juice when Ace says my name, and there was something weird about his voice.”

“I was nervous as hell and trying not to forget what I planned to say,” Ace interjects.

Harper looks at Ace as if that’s the sweetest thing she’s ever heard. “I turn and . . . I’m getting misty eyed.”

“I think you’re allowed to.”

Harper grabs a tissue and wipes her eyes. “Okay. Anyway, I turn, and he’s down on one knee, he’s got the ring out, and I just—” Harper can’t get the story out because she starts laughing hard. It’s a long minute, maybe two when she finally says, “I got so excited, I started jumping around, and I accidentally slapped his hand, and the ring went flying right into one of the vats.”

“Oh, no!”

“Ace freaked out, thinking I was saying no.” She rolls her eyes like that’s utterly ridiculous. “I had to hang onto him to stop him from diving into the vat. He was hanging, half off the walkway, yelling, ‘Noooooooooo! It’s . . . it’s . . .’ ”

“It’s PRECIOUS!” Ace finishes, both of them breaking down in fits of giggles at the memory. I can’t help it, I join in, laughing so hard my gut’s aching by the time the fits end.

“Thankfully, the winery was more than happy to go through their sludge for the ring,” Harper says. “They were cool with it, said it won’t hurt anything.”

“Well, that’s good,” I finally get out. “And you two look so happy.”

“It’s amazing,” Harper says breathlessly. “Oh! And we’re thinking a short engagement and wedding soon.”

I stop, looking back and forth at Harper and Ace curiously. “How soon? And how far along are you?”

“Tiffany! Not like that! I’m just . . . ready. Like I need to go shopping this weekend,” Harper says. At first, I think she’s kidding, but then she says, “I, uhm, already made an appointment to look at gowns if you want to go with me?”

Talk about lifting a girl’s mood. “Oh, you mean soon-soon! Hell yes, I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else!” I exclaim excitedly. “I need to make sure you don’t choose a wedding dress that looks like a nun’s habit. Or a teacher,” I say with a smirk, looking at her sensible flats, ankle-cut pants, and waist-knotted T-shirt that she definitely wore to work today. “Maybe we can find a dress with a sheer bodice? Or a thigh-high slit. Something with a little va-va-va-voom.” I shimmy my shoulders at her, and Harper blushes.

“I’d like to get through my vows without having a stroke,” Ace says before realizing what he said. “Not that kind of stroke either!”