Chocolate for Two (8 page)

I blinked.
Did she really say that?

After an awkward silence, Jake’s mom appeared to get the message. She looked at me and smiled again. “Has Jake taken you out to Worth Avenue to see the shops yet?”

Jake answered for me. “Not yet, but maybe sometime over the weekend.”

I looked at him. “Worth Avenue?”

He shrugged. “It’s sort of like the Rodeo Drive of Florida. Not really my thing.”

“Oh.” I smoothed my hand over my hair and wondered if I looked all right.
Is she trying to tell me something?

Jake’s dad chimed in, his eyes curious and kind. “So, Waverly, how goes the big TV show? From what Jake tells us, you’re quite the celebrity.”

I smiled, relieved at the change in subject. “A celebrity? Hardly. But the show is a lot of fun, and people really seem to enjoy it. I feel lucky to have the job.”

Jake took a sip of his wine. “Do your friends still watch it, Mom?”

“Oh yes, especially the ones from church. They’re big fans of Wendy Davenport. She seems like a lovely person.”

I squeezed my napkin. “Mmm-hmm.”

“She’s just so talented, and pretty too. A natural beauty, don’t you think?”

I nodded, wondering how many greenhouse gases Wendy’s aerosol hairspray habit contributed to
nature
each day. I struggled
to glob the delicate liver pâté spread onto a fancy tabletop cracker and winced when I noticed that Mrs. McIntyre was watching me. Thank God the waiter returned to redirect the conversation.

After we ordered, Mr. McIntyre picked up his wineglass and gestured to Jake. “What about you, son? How do the Nets compare to the Hawks?” Jake had left his job at the Hawks in Atlanta for the Nets position in Brooklyn.

“So far, so good. I guess we’ll see how the season goes.”

“Is it a well-run organization?”

Jake shrugged. “To be honest, the whole mood of any professional sports organization depends on how the team’s playing any given week, sometimes any given
day
, so it’s hard to say. So far it’s been fine, but the season hasn’t started yet, which means we haven’t lost any games yet.”

Jake’s mom spoke as I reached for another cracker. “Los Angeles certainly would have been nice, with all that sunshine.”

I looked up.

Los Angeles?

Jake had turned down an offer from the Lakers to move to Brooklyn to be with me.

“Mom, please don’t go there.” I could tell he was getting annoyed, and I loved him for it.

She smiled. “It was just an observation. That’s all.”

I cringed as I chewed my cracker. I was all for making observations, but not ones that made everyone at the table feel uncomfortable. I tended to observe random yet harmless things, like the fact that America would probably be a lot skinnier if restaurants served carrots sticks instead of…huge baskets of carbohydrates.

“You know we don’t get to see Constance and Pierce as much as we’d like to. That’s all I meant, Jake,” she said.

Who and who?

“Ava’s sister and brother-in-law live in LA,” Jake’s dad explained to me.

Oh.

Jake’s mom put her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “In Beverly Hills. You know Constance doesn’t like it when people say she lives in LA.” Then she returned her attention to Jake. “So, you’re liking Brooklyn?” The juxtaposition of
Beverly Hills
and
Brooklyn
was hard to miss. This woman was anything but subtle.

He nodded. “I’m still getting used to city living and not having a car, but being able to walk to work is great, I must admit.”

She ran her fingers over her pearls. “I love parts of Manhattan, but I could never live in such a big city. Too much commotion, traffic, crime. It’s all a bit uncivilized, if you ask me.”

I tried not to laugh, and I could tell Jake’s dad noticed.
Oops.

He winked at me. “Waverly, do you have any new jokes for us?”

“You want to hear one of my jokes?”

“Of course. I loved the ones you told at Christmas last year. Got any new ones?”

I looked at Jake and tilted my head to one side. “Did you hear that? Your dad loved my jokes.” I slowly crossed my arms in front of me.

Jake shook his head. “Please don’t encourage her, Dad.”

I pushed his shoulder. “You be nice.”

“Let’s hear what you’ve got.” Mr. McIntyre rubbed his hands together.

Jake waved his napkin in surrender. “For the record, I’m not responsible for this.”

I laughed. “Actually, Mr. McIntyre—”

He held a hand up. “Walt. Please, call me Walt.”

“Actually, um…”

I swallowed awkwardly, then finally spoke.

“Um, I feel really uncomfortable calling you by your first name. Can I please call you Mr. McIntyre? At least for now?”

He laughed. “It really makes you uncomfortable?”

I bit my lip. “Um, yes?”

He held his palms up. “Okay, sure, call me Mr. McIntyre…for now. But I can’t have any daughter of mine calling me
Mr. McIntyre
, so once you two make it official, I’ll have to put a stop to that, okay, Waverly?” He smiled.

I smiled back. “Okay, that sounds reasonable.”

“Well, have you got any jokes for us?” he asked again.

I shifted in my chair. “Actually, I do. You ready?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, here goes.” I looked at both him and Mrs. McIntyre, then took a deep breath.

“What do you call a deer with no eyes?”

My eyes darted around the table.

“Anyone?”

“I’ll bite,” Jake’s dad said. “What
do
you call a deer with no eyes?”

I held both my palms up. “No-eye deer.”

He laughed. “Not bad.”

“God help us all.” Jake shook his head and chuckled.

I poked his arm. “I said be nice.” Then I turned back to Jake’s dad.

“What do you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?”

He picked up his wineglass. “I don’t know. What
do
you call a deer with no eyes and no legs?”

I held both my palms up again. “
Still
no-eye deer.”

He laughed. “Not bad. A bit stupid yet somehow funny.”

“Exactly.” I looked at Jake. “Stupid yet
funny
. Did you hear that?”

Jake covered his hands with his face, and I elbowed him. “You’re totally going to break off our engagement now, aren’t you?”

Before he could say anything, his mom cleared her throat. “Jake, Waverly, speaking of the wedding, I have some exciting news for you.”

We both looked at her, and she smiled.

“I called in a few favors, and I was able to book the Breakers for the Saturday of Presidents’ Day weekend. Isn’t that wonderful?”

The what?

For when?

Say what?

I glanced at Jake. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I took a huge sip of my water. There was no way I was going to speak first.

“Isn’t that wonderful?” she said again, her smile big and bright. “The weather will be just gorgeous that time of year.” She looked at me. “Presidents’ Day weekend is the ideal time to get married in Florida, because by the time Memorial Day rolls around, it might be too hot.”

I continued to look at Jake, my face still buried in my water glass.
Say something!

After an awkward silence, Jake manned up and took over. He leaned across the table and gently put both hands on top of his mother’s.

“Mom, that was really nice of you, and we appreciate it, but we haven’t even picked a date, much less a state, for the wedding.”

She smiled and held a palm in the air. “Well, now you don’t
have
to. It’s all taken care of. The eighteenth of February, a four
o’clock reception. It will be lovely. Father McMillan has already agreed to perform the ceremony at the church right next door.”

My jaw dropped into my glass.

A church?

The only time I ever entered a church was for other people’s weddings, and even that was rare, because most of my friends didn’t get married in churches.

I looked at Jake again, my eyes filled with panic.

Again, he stepped up.

“Mom, we appreciate that too, we really do, but we don’t want to get married in a church.”

She put a hand over her heart. “You don’t want Father McMillan to marry you?” Her face looked a bit ashen.

Who is Father McMillan?

As though reading my mind, Jake looked at me. “He baptized me.”

I stared back at him.
Are we really having this conversation?

Mrs. McIntyre began to play with her napkin, a sight that horrified me given my proclivity to do the very same thing under duress. “Jake, you know Father McMillan would be quite upset if he didn’t perform your wedding ceremony. You know that, right?”

Jake’s dad put an arm around her, then gave me a knowing nod. “Ava, love, they just got engaged. No need to rush things. Give them a little time to enjoy themselves, will you?”

I looked at him, grateful for the intervention.
You are a very nice man
, I wanted to say.
No wonder your son is such a sweetheart.

After an awkward pause, Jake’s mom smiled. “Why don’t you two think about it?” she asked in a pleasant voice. “There’s no need to make any rash decisions now. Let’s enjoy this delightful meal. The food here is delicious, you’ll see.”

I took another sip of water and resisted the urge to tell her I’d already made up my mind. I wished I weren’t still a bit hungover, because I suddenly wanted to order a stiff drink.

“Can we join you?” The sound of a male voice made us all turn our heads.

Jake’s brother Brett was walking toward our table with his wife, Michele.

“Hey, bro, what are you doing here?” Jake stood up and shook Brett’s hand, then followed it up with the ubiquitous one-armed man hug. “Michele, it’s good to see you.” He hugged her the regular way and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“We felt so bad about having to miss the party tomorrow night that we wrangled a last-minute babysitter and thought we’d crash the end of your dinner and join you for dessert,” Michele said. A waiter appeared with two chairs, and she and Brett squeezed in on the ends of the table.

Brett sat on the other side of Jake. “We would have told you earlier, but we’ve come to accept the sad fact that since spawning double offspring, we are rarely able to follow through on any plans beyond five minutes in the future.”

Michele looked at me. “We have a horribly boring event for Brett’s firm tomorrow that we absolutely can’t miss. Otherwise, we would have done our best to try to maybe make it to your party.”

Jake laughed. “You would have done your best to try to maybe make it? I love the semantics. How are the girls?” Their twins were nearly two years old.

Brett wiggled his fingers in the direction of the wine. “Sleeping, I hope. Now hand over that bottle.” I laughed and remembered how much I liked both him and Michele. I’d met the whole family just once, at Jake’s sister’s house in Boston last year at Christmas.

As Brett poured her a glass of wine, Michele put her hand on my arm. “It’s so nice to see you again, Waverly. We were thrilled to hear the big news.”

I smiled, so relieved to have them there. “Thanks. I’m pretty happy too.”

“Not as happy as I am.” Jake put his hand on the back of my neck and let it linger there just long enough to make my cheeks flush. Then he turned to Brett and pointed at his pants, which I’d noticed were blue-and-green plaid.

“What’s going on here? Did you just fly in from Scotland?”

Brett laughed. “
Style
, my dear brother, it’s called
style
. Preppy is timeless.”

“Can I see the ring?” Michele reached for my hand.

“I’d like to see it too.” Brett craned his neck.

“Wow, it’s gorgeous! Well done, Jake.” Michele smiled at him.

“Thanks,” Jake said. “I had a little help.”

I looked at him. “You did? From whom?”

“Just a little bird.”

I looked back at Brett. “Was it you?”

Brett laughed. “Definitely not. I know men’s clothes, not women’s jewelry.”

“I picked out my own engagement ring,” Michele said. “Knowing Brett, he would have ordered one from J. Crew.”

“Timeless,” Brett said. “Preppy is
time-less
.”

Michele rolled her eyes. “
Mas-ters
. You look like you just played in the
Mas-ters
.”

“Why, thank you,” Brett nodded in gratitude and touched a pretend visor, Phil Mickelson–style. We all laughed, and I noticed that even Jake’s mom joined in.

As we dug into our entrées, I looked sideways at Jake, my eyes narrowing a bit.
Hmm.
Who had talked to him? As far as I
knew, none of my friends had a clue he was going to propose to me.

I wonder who it was.

“It really is a lovely ring, Waverly,” Jake’s mom said.

I looked up from my salmon. “Um, thanks, Mrs. McIntyre.” I managed an awkward smile.

“Jake’s always had great taste,” Mrs. McIntyre said. “Clothes, friends, girlfriends, rarely a misstep.”

I stiffened at the word
girlfriends
.

Please, let’s not go there.

Jake, once again reading my mind, changed the subject. He must have been a little rattled too, because he changed it to one I
know
he didn’t want to bring up.

“Brett, you just missed Waverly’s new material.”

Brett raised his eyebrows and looked at me. “Material as in a joke? Let’s hear it.”

I looked briefly at Jake and spoke with my eyes.

I love you so much.