Page 78 of Joey

“What?”

“You,” I say. “You’re one of the strong ones, Brooke.”

“You didn’t pick me,” she says. “Huck did.” And it’s not snide or anything. Just a fact.

But I hold her hand up and turn it so she can see the ring flashing in the sunlight.

And I say, “I did pick you.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - BROOKE

He did pick me.

I stare at the ring the whole drive over to the title company. This is a little bit embarrassing because I have never pictured myself as one of those girls who gets giddy about rings or guys.

But maybe, if you get the right ring, and the right guys, giddiness is called for?

I have never once dreamed about my wedding day. I have never envisioned a honeymoon, or a bridal shower, or a baby.

In fact I’d go so far as to say these things maybe a little bit… repulsed me.

A normal life was never in my future.

The best I could ever hope for was a stable purpose. Achievable goals. Hell, even that little apartment I was renting filled with all that new furniture was more than I ever thought I’d have.

Not because of the money, either. It’s not the money.

It’s the sense of… permanence.

And it’s not that I don’t want permanence, I do. So bad. But that’s the catch-22, isn’t it? When you want something too hard it becomes precious. And when things become precious you live in constant fear that one day—probably one day soon--you will lose that precious something.

“You’re quiet,” Joey says.

“Just admiring my ring,” I say.

And it’s not a lie.

That might be a little scary.

“I’m glad you like it. I was worried after all that talk about how you didn’t want one.”

“I was being dumb,” I say.

“No, you weren’t. I get it now. You need loyalty. And I didn’t think I could give that to you until you told me that secret. But… wait,” he says. “Hold on. I have to clear something up. I’m not going to cheat on you, OK? I’m not that kind of man.”

“Oh,” I say, pulling my attention away from the ring. “No. I wasn’t thinking that.”

“You weren’t?”

“No. I… I’m not that kind of girl.”

We both laugh.

“OK, let me clarify. I’m not the jealous type.” But then I’m second-guessing myself. Because I am jealous. I’m jealous of them. But that’s different and not what he’s referring to, so I continue. “I guess. I don’t really know that for sure. But I wasn’t worried about that last night when I had my little freakout.”

“You need me on your side.”

I nod. “Yeah. That’s a good way to put it.”