Her Best Friend's Dad
This ring, though, Lia had loved. Small, almost quaint in its understated beauty, my then-wife and daughter overlooked it in favor of the large baubles that bordered on looking like costume jewelry. The engraved flowers on either side of the circular cut diamond add a bit of individuality. It was—and is—quintessentially Lia. It is an artisan’s ring. I bought it then and tucked it away, planning on somehow giving it to her future beau to use as an engagement ring or even just as a celebration gift from Tasha to Lia someday. When I fell in love with her and then learned of the pregnancy, I knew there was no better ring to give her than one she herself had chosen and I had kept safe for a little over a decade.
“You bought Tasha the one with the rubies,” Lia replies, her voice tender with a haze of memories. “I tried to convince the owner to let me adopt their kitten. I always wanted a cat, but Dad’s allergic.”
I nod. “We can go to the shelter and adopt a cat for you to have in our office when it opens Monday, but I have a more important question to ask right now.” I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, stilling my nerves. “Will you marry me?”
The whole room waits as she stares at me, their hushed whispers going silent. It’s then, when all my staff and friends are watching us with baited breath, I worry. What will I do if she declines? How will—
Lia interrupts my train of thought with a squeal and kiss. “Yes, Beck, I’ll marry you! You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to marry,” she whispers against my mouth.
Cheers erupt around us, and despite how hellish the past twenty minutes have been, I cannot bring myself to regret how we got to where we are. My security guards take Jean off the table, and while obviously upset at everything he has witnessed, Paul hasn’t punched me or started yelling. Plus, I’m going to marry Lia!
“What would you have done if I said no?” Lia hugs me tightly as she asks. There are no doubts in her voice, so I try not to allow the question to worry me.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the housekey I had gotten copied for her. “Given this to someone else and then used the diamond from your ring to scratch something mean into your computer screen.” Lia had gotten into trouble in junior high for using a nail file to write “Nate’s a big, fat, lying jerk” on a monitor after the boy turned down Tasha for being her date to a school dance.
She hits me in the chest, laughing before she pauses to stare at the ring. “I can’t believe you bought this ring and kept it all this time. I love it.” Lia gazes into my eyes, smiling. “I love you.”
It’s the first time she’s said it, and my heart catches in my throat. I knew from her kiss—from her acceptance of me—but to actually hear her say it after all the questionable moments… It’s my turn to wipe at an errant tear.
8
Lia
“Tell me you weren’t screwing my little girl all these years or grooming her for this.” My father’s eyes are icy and lips narrow with the mix of emotions he’s enduring. I can’t tell if he’s angry, disappointed, or just in shock. It’s the first thing he’s said to us since the announcement and proposal.
Beck is shaking his head, his arm wrapped around my waist, ready to protect me from the world at the first hint of danger. He hasn’t let go of me since Jean found us near the gazebo. “I swear to you, Paul, I never touched Lia until after she came home from being out of state.” He’s careful in his word choices, making sure that whatever he says is both true and not something we mind being spread around by any reporters. We’ll be prime real estate on the front page as it is for announcing our pregnancy and engagement, but a juicy story of a teenage love affair would be too hard for them to pass up if given the slightest hints to pick apart.
My dad turns to me, his hands coming up to cup my cheeks. He searches my eyes, frowning at whatever he does or doesn’t see there. He’s been able to read me like this ever since childhood, and I hope I can do the same with my baby. I never had to prove I wasn’t lying about something; Dad would know just by looking at me long enough. Satisfied, my dad nods and releases me. “Lia, I can’t say I’m happy about you being pregnant, not when you’re so young, but I won’t give you any lectures. That’s not what you need from me right now. I love you, and I will do my best to be happy for you.” My father turns to Beck, one hand outstretched in a peace-offering. “You’ll take care of my daughter and your child?” he says, his voice clear, and it’s obvious he’s making a demand, rather than posing a question.