The Christmas Wedding - James Patterson [9]
Anyhow, I was being sentimental before I interrupted myself…I remember a time when Peter and I fell asleep on the dunes in Truro. Two hours later we had so much poison ivy we could barely sit in the car to drive back to the inn. But still, I treasure that lost weekend.
And I remember how proud he was of the new window he installed in Lizzie and Claire’s room. Only he put it in sideways, and even today, every time I open it, I laugh. Except for today.
And when he asked me to marry him—quite beautifully, poetically—and I smiled and said “Sure,” I think he was hurt a little. So then I spent at least fifteen minutes telling him all the things that I loved about him. I could do the same thing right now.
As I’m sure is the case for you guys, not a day goes by that I don’t think how unfair it was that he was taken from us. How stupid, really.
Oh, damn, I was afraid this might happen. A waterfall is coming.
Hold on. I’ll be right back. I need to tell you something important.
Chapter 10
GABY’S SECOND VIDEO, PART TWO
SORRY ABOUT THAT. I’m okay now. You know me. Strong like bull, cry at the drop of a handkerchief.
Anyway…so this guy, this wonderful guy, your dad, who did everything to take care of himself. All that low-fat yogurt, organic fruit and veggies. Weighed himself every morning…Ran four miles every day. And then, the genetic heart-attack time bomb goes off. It was such a ridiculously short time we had with him—as a husband, as a dad, as a friend, as a soul mate.
But, you know what, one wonderful weekend with your father was worth more than a lifetime with some other men.
So you’re probably thinking, Well, hey, if you loved Dad so much, why replace him? I guess the point is, I can’t ever “replace” him. It’s just that…I want to be loved again.
And I really need to do something for myself. I’ve spent my whole life taking care of other people—no regrets—but now I’m doing something for me. Yay.
That’s what you’re all going to find out about this Christmas.
Don’t worry. I know who the person is. I’ve known for some time. However, the person doesn’t know who the person is. Like I said, I’m doing something for myself, and this is the way I’d like it to be.
Ohhh. And by the way, I want to remind you that there are a number of eligible and exceptional candidates around Stockbridge.
Like, well, your uncle Martin. I know you think of him as your father’s kid brother, but he’s only ten months younger—big deal. And I’ll tell you this. I have always had a little crush on Marty, and he’s had a crush on me.
Marty is terrific. Negative side? He plays the rhythm guitar—badly. Positive side? Former wife totally out of the picture and living in California. Attractive salt-and-pepper hair, and lots of it. Very good Italian cook. Cute butt from swimming every day. Everybody’s favorite house builder around here.
Oh, yes, I forgot to mention—Marty has asked to marry me.
Which doesn’t mean that I said yes, does it?
Another thing that I forgot to mention, and this is a mindblower: Marty isn’t the only one who’s asked.
There are three—so far, anyway. Does that seem incredible, even unbelievable, to you? It sure does to me. Even now it does. I’m still in shock and a little numb about the whole thing.
I’ll tell you how it happened. A few of us were sitting around after one of our breakfasts for the homeless in the barn. Marty, Jacob, Tom, Stacey Lee, and me.
Suddenly Marty told everybody that he’d asked me to marry him and was waiting for an answer. “You know Gaby. She does things in her own way, and according to her own clock,” he said.
What happened next started as a lark, almost a skit. That’s what I thought at first, anyway.
Jacob got down on one knee and—he asked if I would marry him. “I’m serious, Gaby. I’m a serious person when I have to be,” he said. “I’m asking you to marry me. I think I’ve been in love with you for the last couple of years. I’ll be a very good husband, Gaby.”
The way Jacob asked was so beautiful and thoughtful, it was hard to imagine he hadn’t composed