Something Beautiful

"They're engaged, baby. I'm pretty sure."

  "They haven't set a date."

  I smoothed my sheer black cover-up and pulled Shepley toward the beach. "Do you not approve?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. It's weird. She dated Thomas first. You just don't do that."

  "Well, she did. And if she hadn't, Trent wouldn't be so happy." I stopped at the edge of the sand, pointing to a small group of Maddoxes gathered at the water's edge.

  Travis was sitting on a white plastic lounge chair, puffing on a cigarette and staring across the ocean. Trenton and Camille were standing a few feet away from him, watching him with concerned expressions.

  My stomach sank. "Oh, no. Oh, fuck."

  "I'm on it," Shepley said, letting go of my hand to walk toward Travis.

  "Fix it. I don't care what you have to say or do ... just fix it. They can't fight on their honeymoon."

  Shepley waved back to me, letting me know that he had everything under control. His shoes flipped sand as he trudged to where his cousin sat. Travis looked devastated. I couldn't imagine what might have happened between marital bliss just the night before and this morning.

  Shepley sat with his feet planted between his chair and Travis's, and he clasped his hands together. Travis didn't move. He didn't acknowledge Shepley. He just stared at the water.

  "This is bad," I whispered.

  "What's bad?" Abby asked, startling me. "Whoa. Jumpy this morning? What are you staring at? Where's Shep?" She stretched her neck to look past me at the beach.

  "Fuck," she whispered. "That looks bad. Are you and Shepley fighting?"

  I spun around. "No. Shepley went to find out what was wrong with Trav. You're not? Fighting, I mean?"

  Abby shook her head. "No. Pretty sure that's not what anyone would call what he did to me all night. Wrestling maybe--"

  "Did he say anything to you this morning?"

  "He left before I woke up."

  "Now, he ... he looks like that!" I said, pointing. "What the hell happened?"

  "Why are you yelling?"

  "I'm not yelling!" I took a breath. "I mean ... I'm sorry. Everyone's mad. I don't want angry people at this wedding. I want happy people."

  "The wedding is over, Mare," Abby said, patting my backside, as she passed. She strolled out to the beach.

  Marriage had made her confident, calmer, and slower to react when something was amiss. Abby had the security of knowing that if a problem stood before them, they would figure it out and be holding hands on the other side. Travis the Boyfriend had been unpredictable, but Travis the Husband was Abby's teammate, the only real family she had.

  I could almost see triumph in the way she moved as she closed in on him and Shepley. Whatever was wrong, Abby was unafraid. Travis was unbeatable, just like her. They had nothing to fear.

  That part of being married was appealing to me, but being married to a Maddox would be work, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that yet--even if my Maddox was Shepley.

  The moment Abby knelt next to Travis, he threw his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Shepley stood and took a few steps back, glancing at me for just a moment, before watching Abby work her magic.

  "Good morning, sweet pea," Mom said, touching my shoulder.

  I turned to hug her. "Hi. How did you sleep?"

  Mom looked around and sighed. The lines on each side of her mouth deepened when she smiled. "This place, America. You did a really good job."

  "Too good," Dad teased.

  "Mark, stop," Mom said, nudging him with her elbow. "She's already said she's not in a hurry. Leave her alone." She looked at me. "Are we still on for brunch?"

  "Yeah," I said, distracted by Travis hugging Abby on the beach. I chewed on my lip. At least they weren't fighting--or maybe they were making up.

  "What is it?" Dad asked. He looked in the same direction I was, immediately seeing Travis and Abby. "Good God, they're not arguing, are they?"

  "No. Everything is fine," I assured him.

  "Travis didn't attack some drunken spring breaker for staring at his wife, did he?"

  "No." I chuckled. "Travis is calmer ... ish."

  "Abby has the face, Pam," Dad said.

  "No, she doesn't," I snapped back, more to myself than to him.

  "You're right," Mom said. "That is definitely the face."

  They meant Abby's poker face. Any stranger would think nothing of it, but we all knew what it meant.

  I turned to them with a contrived smile. "I reserved a table for six. I think Jack and Deana are already heading that way. I'll just grab Shepley, and we'll meet you there."

  Mom batted her eyes and pretended like she didn't know I was trying to get rid of them, just like all the times when they'd ignored Abby's poker face when we were getting caught in a lie. My parents weren't stupid, but they were also nontraditional in the way that, as long as we were safe, they'd allow us to make mistakes. They didn't know those mistakes had been made in Las Vegas.

  "America," Mom said. Her tone alerted me to something more serious than the scene on the beach. "We have an idea on what this brunch is about."

  "No, you don't," I began.

  She held up her hand. "Before you make everyone at the table uncomfortable, your dad and I have discussed it, and our feelings haven't changed."

  My mouth fell open, and my words tripped over my tongue several times before I could form a coherent sentence. "Mom, just please hear us out."

  "You still have two years left," Mom said.

  "It's a great apartment. It's close to campus--" I said.

  "School has never come easy to you," Mom interjected.

  "Shepley and I study all the time. I'm carrying a three-point-oh."

  "Barely," Mom said, sadness in her eyes.

  She hated telling me no, but she would when she felt it was important, which made it really hard for me to argue.

  "Mom--"

  "America, the answer is no." Dad shook his head, holding up his hands, palms out. "We're not financing an apartment with your boyfriend, and we don't feel like you could hold satisfactory grades and work enough hours to pay rent, even half the rent. We don't know how Shepley's parents feel, but we can't agree to it. Not yet."

  My shoulders fell. For weeks, Shepley had been preparing a speech with calm rebuttals and sound arguments. He would be devastated--again--just like the last time when we'd announced that we would be moving in together and were shut down.

  "Daddy," I whined, a last-ditch effort.

  He wasn't moved. "Sorry, sweet pea. We'd appreciate it if you didn't bring it up at brunch. It's our last day. Let's just--"

  "I get it. Okay," I said.

  They both hugged me and then walked toward the restaurant. I pressed my lips together, trying to figure out a way to break the news to Shepley. Our plan had been sunk before we even had a chance to present it to our parents.

  Shepley

  "Shit," I said under my breath.

  America's conversation with her parents hadn't looked pleasant, and when they walked off and she looked at me, I already knew what had happened.

  "Trav, look at me," Abby said, holding his chin until his eyes focused on hers.

  "I can't tell you. That's as truthful as I can be."

  Abby put her hands on her hips and bit her lips together, scanning the horizon. "Can you at least tell me why you can't tell me?" She looked back at him with her big gray eyes.

  "Thomas asked me not to, and if I do ... we won't be able to be together."

  "Just answer me this," Abby said. "Does it have to do with another woman?"

  Confusion and then horror reflected in Travis's eyes, and he hugged her again. "Christ, baby, no. Why would you even ask that?"

  Abby hugged him, resting her cheek on his shoulder. "If it's not someone else, then I trust you. I guess I just won't know."

  "Really?" Travis asked.

  "Travis, what the hell is it?" I asked.

  Travis frowned at me.

  "Sh
ep," Abby said, "it's between Thomas and Travis."

  I nodded. If he didn't tell Abby, he wasn't going to tell me. "Okay." I play-punched Travis's shoulder with the side of my fist. "You feel better? Abby's cool with it."

  "I wouldn't say that," Abby said. "But I'll respect it. For now."

  A cautious smile spread on Travis's face, and he held out his hand to his wife.

  "Hey," America said. "Everything good here?"

  "We're good," Abby said, smiling at Travis.

  Travis simply nodded.

  America looked to me, the ocean breeze blowing thick strands of her long blonde hair in her face. "Can we talk?"

  My eyebrows pulled in, and she winced.

  "Don't look at me like that," she said.

  Travis and Abby walked down the beach, leaving us alone.

  "I saw you with your parents. Looked like an intense conversation."

  "It wasn't pleasant. They knew why we'd asked to have brunch with them and your parents. They asked me not to bring it up."

  "You mean, moving in together?" I said, my entire body feeling tense.

  "Yes."

  "But ... they haven't heard what we have to say. I have points."

  "I know. But they're focused on my grades, and they don't feel like I'll be able to work and keep a three-point-oh."

  "Baby, I'll help you."

  "I know. But ... they're right. If I don't have time to study, it won't matter how much you help me."

  We had picked out an apartment. I'd already paid the money to hold it.

  I frowned. "Okay, then I'll support us. I'll take a break from school if I have to."

  "What? No! That's a terrible idea."

  I gripped her tiny arms in both my hands. "Mare, we're adults. We can move in together if we want."

  "My parents won't support me if I live with you. They said that, Shep. They won't help me with tuition or books and definitely not living expenses. They think it's the wrong decision."

  "They're wrong."

  "You're talking about quitting school. I'm thinking they're right."

  My heart began to race. This felt like the beginning of the end. If America wasn't interested in moving in, maybe she was losing interest in me altogether.

  "Marry me," I blurted out.

  Her nose wrinkled. "Pardon?"

  "They can't say anything if we're married."

  "That won't change the facts. I'll still have to work, and my grades will suffer."

  "I told you. I'll support us."

  "By dropping out of school? No. That's stupid, Shep. Stop."

  "If Travis and Abby can do it--"

  "We're not Travis and Abby. We're definitely not going to get married to solve a problem like they did."

  I felt my veins swell with anger, the pressure making the blood boil in my face and compress behind my eyes. I walked away from her, folding my hands on top of my head, willing the Maddox temper to wane. The waves were slapping on the shore, and I could hear Trenton and Camille talking from one direction, Travis and Abby from another.

  Kids with their families along with young and old couples were beginning to filter down from their rooms. We were surrounded by people who had their shit together. America and I had been together for longer than Travis and Abby, and Trent and Camille. They were either married or engaged, and America and I couldn't even make it to the next step.

  From behind me, America slipped her arms beneath mine, interlocking her fingers at my middle, pressing her cheek and tits against my back. I tilted my head toward the sky. I fucking loved it when she did that.

  "There's no hurry, baby," she whispered. "It'll happen. We just need to be patient."

  "So ... don't bring it up at brunch."

  She wiggled, trying to shake her head against my back.

  I exhaled a deep sigh. "Fuck."

  America

  "Happy anniversary to you," I sang, handing Abby a card and a small white box with a blue bow.

  She looked at her watch and then wiped her eyes. "I liked our first anniversary much better."

  "Probably because I planned it, we were in Saint Thomas, and everything was perfect."

  Abby shot me a look.

  "Or because Travis was actually present," I said, trying to keep the hate from my voice.

  Travis had been traveling a lot for work, and although Abby seemed to understand, I certainly didn't. He was working part-time as a personal trainer after his classes, but at some point, the owner had asked him to travel for sales or ... I wasn't quite sure. It was much better pay, but it was always at the last minute, and he never said no.

  "Don't give me that look, Mare. He's on his way right now. He can't help it that his flight was delayed."

  "He could have not traveled halfway across the country so close to your anniversary. Stop defending him. It's infuriating."

  "For whom?"

  "Me! The one who has to watch you cry over your anniversary card that he wrote before he left because he knew there was a good possibility he'd miss it. He should be here!"

  Abby sniffed and sighed. "He didn't want to miss it, Mare. He is sick over it. Don't make it worse."

  "Fine," I said. "But I'm not leaving you here alone. I'm staying until he gets here."

  Abby hugged me, and I hooked my chin over her shoulder, glancing around the dim apartment. It looked so different from when I had first walked through the door our freshman year. Travis had insisted that Abby make the space her own after Shepley had moved out, shortly after they'd gotten married. Instead of street signs and beer posters, the walls were adorned with paintings, wedding pictures, and family pictures with Toto. There were lamps and tables and ceramic decor.

  I turned back to look at the full plates of cold food on the small dining table. The candle had burned down to dried drippings of wax that nearly touched the reclaimed wood.

  "Dinner smells good. I'll be sure to rub it in."

  Shepley texted me, and I tapped out a quick reply.

  "Shep?" Abby asked.

  "Yeah. He thought I'd be home by now."

  "How is that going?"

  "He's a clean freak, Abby. How do you think it's going?" I said, disgusted.

  "You were all mad when your parents said you couldn't move in with him. You both sulked in the dorms for a year and a half. They finally gave in, and now, you hate it."

  "I don't hate it. I'm afraid he's going to hate me."

  "It's been almost three years, Mare. If it were possible for Shepley to do anything but worship you, I doubt it would be over a pair of dirty socks."

  I pulled my knees up to my chest, almost wishing it were him in my arms. I often wondered when being around Shepley or even thinking about him would stop making me feel so much, but the passing time had only made my feelings stronger.

  "We graduate next summer, Abby. Can you believe it?"

  "No. Then we really have to be adults."

  "You've been an adult since you were a kid."

  "True."

  "I keep thinking he's going to ask me to marry him."

  Abby arched her brow.

  "If he says my name a certain way or we go to a fancy restaurant, I think it's going to be it, but he never does."

  "He did ask you, Mare, remember? You said no. Twice."

  I winced, remembering that morning on the beach and a few months later with the candlelight glinting in his eyes, the homemade pasta, and the supreme disappointment on his face. "But that was last year."

  "You think you missed your chance, don't you? You think he'll never get up the nerve to ask you again." I didn't answer, but she continued, "Why don't you ask him?"

  "Because I know it's important to him that he ask me."

  Proposing to Shepley had crossed my mind, but I remembered what he'd said about the news that Abby had popped the question to Travis. It had bothered him almost as much as the realization that his feelings on the subject were so traditional. Shepley felt it was his place as the man to ask. I hadn't realized that if I w
asn't ready when he proposed, he would stop asking.

  "Do you want him to? Ask you again?"

  "Of course I do. We don't have to get married right away, right?"

  "Right. So, what's your hurry to get engaged?" she asked.

  "I don't know. He seems bored."

  "Bored? With you? Didn't he just text to check on you?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "Are you bored?"

  "Bored isn't the right word. He's uncomfortable. We're stagnate, and I can tell it bothers him."

  "Maybe he's waiting on a signal from you that you're ready?"

  "I have been dropping them right and left, except for mentioning America's Famous No. We have an unspoken agreement to leave it unspoken."

  "Maybe you should tell him you're ready when he's ready to ask again."

  "What if he's not?"

  Abby made a face. "Mare, we're talking about Shep. He's probably struggling with not asking you every day."

  I sighed. "This isn't about me. I'm here for you."

  She frowned. "I almost forgot."

  The doorknob jiggled, and the door burst open.

  "Pidge?" Travis yelled. His expression crumbled when he saw the food on the table, and then he looked over at us sitting on the couch together.

  Abby's eyes lit up as he rushed around the couch and knelt in front of her, wrapping his arms around her middle and burying his face in her lap.

  Shepley stood in the doorway, smiling.

  I beamed back at him. "You're sneaky."

  "He chartered a flight back. I had to pick him up at the FPO here in town." He shut the door behind him and chuckled, crossing his arms. "I thought he was going to have a heart attack before we got here."

  Abby's nose wrinkled. "The FPO? You mean that tiny airport just outside of town?" She looked to Travis. "A charter plane? How much did that cost?"

  Travis looked up at her, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. I just had to get here." He looked at me. "Thanks for sitting with her, Mare."

  I nodded. "Of course." I stood, smiling at Shepley. "I'll follow you home."

  Shepley opened the door. "After you, baby."

  I waved good-bye to Travis and Abby, not that they noticed while he practically gnawed on her face.

  Shepley held my hand as we walked down the stairs to our cars. The Charger was shining like new, parked next to my scratched and dingy red Honda. He unlocked the door, and the smell of smoke assaulted my nose.

  I waved my hand in front of my face. "So gross. If you love your car so much, why do you let Travis smoke in it?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. He's never asked."

  I smirked. "What would Travis do if, one day, you stopped letting him have his way all the time?"