Page 40 of Romantic

***

Two days later, I’m in the garden weeding when Jack pulls up in front of Bumble Cottage in a green Mini Cooper convertible. I hurry out to greet him, my ankle now fully recovered (I was right; I didn’t need to see a doctor—take that, Brandon!). He pulls me in his arms and gives me a showstopping kiss. “I brought you a present!” He waves to the car sparkling like an emerald in the morning sun.

“A car?”

“Now that I’m staying at my boat, you need a car to visit me.” Jack “miraculously” recovered from his Giardia and checked out of Norland Park the day after the Ex-Lax cookie debacle. He moved back to Monterey—after “someone” broke into his cottage, he felt safer living on his sailboat docked at the yacht club.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? This is the car of my dreams!”

“I know red is the typical color for convertibles. But I think this goes better with your hair and matches your eyes.”

“I love it,” I say, lightly brushing a hand across the hood.

“I thought you might,” he says with a sweet smile.

I walk around to the driver’s seat. “May I?” I ask, my hand on the door latch.

“Yes, of course—it’s yours.”

“Jack, you can’t give me something like this. It’s too much,” I say while I’m making myself comfortable in the leather driver’s seat.

“Why not?” he says, jumping in the passenger side. “Someday everything I own will belong to you.”

I glance over. He’s looking right at me, waiting for my reaction, hopeful but also a bit nervous. “Do you mean that?” I ask.

“Yes.” He takes my hand. “Annie, I don’t know how I can make it any more clear how much you mean to me. You are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever met. I have never been so head over heels in love. You are all I think about.” I feel a pang of guilt, considering how much I’ve struggled to think about Jack, how often my mind drifts to my disappointment in Brandon. Whenever Brandon’s words, cold and disapproving, echo through my mind: That will never happen, I tap the moonstone ring Jack gave me and think of the moon rising, clear and luminous—a sign from the Universe that Jack is the one. I twist the ring now, nervously.

“Oh Jack! I can’t believe anyone as wonderful as you could be in love with me.”

“And you? Do you love me?” he asks a little nervously. I find this little bit of vulnerability so endearing. Jack waits for my answer with earnest eyes.

“I do. I should have said so long ago. I love you, Jack.” He smiles big and kisses me, and for a minute there, I think the moon really knows what it’s talking about.

We’re interrupted by a polite cough. I look up and see Edward and Elinor walking up the tree-lined lane with Brandon looming behind, scowling. That will never happen. I tap my moonstone ring and look at Jack—beautiful, brilliant Jack who bought me this car and tells me he loves me every day. I get out of the car.

“Can you believe it? Jack bought me a car! Look at her—she’s so beautiful. I’m thinking of calling her Esmerelda.”

Elinor stares at me, her mouth agog.

“It’s a fun car,” says Edward. “Nice color.”

“It’s impractical,” says Brandon. “If you’re going to have a new car it should be all-wheel drive. You need to be safe in the rain and when the roads are icy.”

Now I’m the one agog. How dare Brandon criticize Jack’s gift?

“True,” says Jack, “But this is just a summer car. Believe me, when Annie moves out to Maine, I’ll buy her a vehicle that’s safe in the snow.”

Jack may as well have decked Brandon. For a minute his face flares with hurt and anger. But why should Brandon care if Jack bought me a car? That doesn’t mean I want to date her, let alone marry her. The look is gone—I must have imagined it. It was probably indigestion. I twist my ring and smile at Jack, who admittedly appears to be gloating, just a little.

***

“Are you really planning to move to Maine with Jack?” Elinor asks the next morning as we both bustle about the kitchen grabbing a quick breakfast.

“Oh . . . no! Or maybe? Jack is always talking about our future together.”

“Really? And what do you have to say in these conversations?”