I know that I screwed up big time. I know that I hurt you. And I’m so sorry. I’ll do better if you just give me a chance. You’ve made me realize something. I’m not a disaster or a loser. And just because things don’t go exactly the way I think they should doesn’t mean that they aren’t perfect the way they are.”
I held silent for a beat. Not trusting my voice.
“There’s something else,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Read these.” She held up two aged pieces of notebook paper. The folds were so deep they were practically canyons on the paper.
I opened the first one.
Marley,
You and me. Homecoming. Don’t tell anyone. We need to play it cool since you just broke up with Travis. See you at the dance.
Jake
Horrified, I searched her face. “Mars, do I look like the kind of guy to ask a girl to be my secret date in a note?” I demanded.
“No, you do not. And I’m sorry for ever thinking that you did. Read the next one.”
I read, flinched.
Marley,
I decided to take Amie Jo to Homecoming instead. She’s obviously more my type. Good luck with everything.
Jake
“You spent twenty years thinking I dumped you for Amie Jo?” So many things clicked into place. Her worry that I’d just move on and forget about her. Her reluctance to trust me. Hell, I couldn’t believe she’d let me anywhere near her after thinking I was capable of such a dick move.
She nodded.
“Hell, I was a dumbass in high school, but I wasn’t that big of a dumbass.”
“Sorry, Jake,” Amie Jo called in a sing-song voice, hanging out of the backseat window.
“I’m sorry for holding something you didn’t do against you for two decades,” Marley said, drawing my attention back to her.
My head was spinning. It was a lot to take in for a guy who’d spent the last several days in misery.
“So I just have to ask one question. Why didn’t you ask me to Homecoming?” she asked. “You kissed me. You seemed interested.”
“I had one weekend a month when I’d go visit my mom back in Jersey. That was the weekend. Besides, didn’t you have some secret boyfriend—oh, shit.” Realization washed over me. Amie Jo, that diabolical teenage puppet master.
Marley’s head snapped around in the direction of the car so fast I thought she might add whiplash to her list of injuries.
“Oops! Forgot to mention that part,” Amie Jo said cheerfully. “Sorry!” Homer licked her in the face.
Marley rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to me.
“She’s basically Machiavelli,” Marley sighed.
“Did you all hit your heads?” I asked.
Marley ignored me while I tried to get a good look at her pupils. “I love you,” she said. “So much. So big and wide and more. You’re the ‘more’ I’ve been looking for my entire life. And I love you, and I hope you still love me even though I was a jerk and told you that you didn’t know what love was.”
Homer barked from the car as if he were answering for me.
“Do you think there’s a chance you could forgive me?” she whispered.
“That depends. Do you think you could be happy living here with me?” I asked, running my finger over her collarbone.
She nodded. “Yeah.” Her voice cracked. “Really happy. Like really, really happy.”
“Baby.” I swiped the hot tears off her cheeks and leaned down to kiss her.
“Ouch,” she said when I touched her swollen lip.
“Sorry.” I kissed the corner of her mouth.
“Woo-hoo!” Amie Jo and Zinnia celebrated from the back seat.
Ned beeped the horn. “Don’t forget to ask him,” he screeched.
“Oh, uh, yeah. If we’re made up and everything, would you mind if my family came for dinner tonight? We burnt our turkey.”
“The more, the merrier,” I told her. “Now what the hell happened to you?”
“I told you. Zinnia and Amie Jo and I got drunk and fell out of a tree.”
81
Marley
The lights were low. The kids, including my nieces and nephew, Jake’s nieces and nephews, and Libby and her foster siblings were watching a Christmas movie in the living room on the floor while Homer snored on the couch. My pants were unbuttoned after thirds of everything.
Lewis was opening our ninth bottle of wine, and Jake was holding my hand under the table while he grilled his mom’s boyfriend on his background.
Everything was just about perfect. Amie Jo and my sister were shitfaced and commiserating in the corner about how hard perfection was to maintain.