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Margot blinked herself back to the present. She glanced up, and saw a broad-shouldered silhouette watching her from the prow of the ship. She shaded her eyes, and her thudding heart picked up the pace as every handsome detail of Eddie Jameson materialized. He looked older, and oddly regal, standing so high above her. Either he was absurdly overdressed, or her sweatshirt and jeans weren't the casual boating attire she had thought they were. Eddie was wearing a crisp black suit and long pants; no open shirt, no shorts. His auburn hair was slicked back, and even standing dockside, Margot could tell he was sporting the closest shave he had ever worn since picking up a razor in high school. It was the most she had ever seen him look to his older brother, Sam. The resemblance was almost jarring.
Maybe he really did plan to treat this like a business meeting.
"You're late!" he called out down to her. He leaned forward to brace himself on the bulwark.
Margot checked her phone. She was exactly on time. She wondered if Eddie had been driving himself crazy below deck all morning stewing on the exact words he would say to her, and wasn't sure how to take the mental image. Eddie wasn't usually a planner. "You rescheduled on me first!" she called back. She tossed the rest of her crackers toward the waiting seagull and moved around the side of the boat.
Eddie came to meet her. Margot mounted the stepstool, and he extended his hand down to her to help her up. She wished her heart didn't somersault at the gesture. She could still hear the radio playing in the galley, and it suddenly occurred to her that Eddie might have made his music selection on purpose.
"You look well-rested," he mentioned as he hauled her up. Margot clutched her purse close to keep it from falling into the water below her. Don't look down, don't look down, she prayed. "Better than the last time I saw you."
"And you look like your brother," she pointed out. She glanced around Annabella's deck in an effort to avoid noticing the rocking waves beneath them, and her mouth dropped open. "Eddie…? What is this?"
The entire deck was carpeted with dark red rose petals, the exact color of Margot's favorite sultry lipstick. A bottle of sparkling cider perched sweating in a bucket of ice on the outdoor table; twin crystalline wine glasses flashed in the light of the sun.
There was a teal blue Tiffany box sitting on the chair canted closest to her.
"That's why, darling, it's incredible...that someone so unforgettable...thinks that I am unforgettable too."
Margot's hand flew to her mouth. Eddie came up behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze away from the scene. Everything clicked into place suddenly. She was an idiot not to see it before.
"Well?" His voice was a seductive purr right next to her ear. "What do you think? Or are you speechless? I can work with silence. I'll even take it as encouraging if you don't mind."
Something was building inside of Margot...something not good. She felt faint, fluttery. Her lower back and armpits tingled; a buzzing sensation erupted between her eyes.
"Why don't you go look at your gift?" Eddie encouraged. "Better yet, why don't I bring it to you?" He touched her shoulder affectionately as he moved past her to go retrieve the blue box. Another, much larger ship was pulling out of the harbor. It honked a low, mournful signal that drowned out the climax of Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable".
The boat left a massive wake trailing behind it.
The deck pitched beneath her, and Margot groped behind her for the hand railing. Eddie made it to the table without so much as a hitch in his confident stride. His sea legs really were out of this world. He moved so gracefully on the water, so naturally. He was the same way in social situations—nobody could breeze through a crowd like Eddie and come away with exactly what he wanted.
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He pulled the lid off the box and set it aside. Margot watched, with eyes she was sure were as round as the dinner platters he had set out for them, as Eddie removed a velvet ring box. He returned and knelt before her. He took her hand in his. His palm was so tan and wide it practically dwarfed her own. She looked so pale by comparison. Had her skin always been this clammy? Eddie didn't appear to notice anything amiss. "Margot Daley, ever since we were kids, I've found you unforgettable," he began. "I spent so much of my childhood running around playing games with you. When you weren't there, all I could think about was the next time I would see you again. I was devoted to you. I still am."
Stop. Stop it, Eddie. She was desperate to absorb everything he was saying to her, but she couldn't concentrate. This wasn't the old script, and Eddie…Eddie didn't sound like himself. What's more, his timing couldn't have been any worse. Her stomach rolled as if there were smaller waves pitching inside of it. Her hand stayed resolutely clamped over her mouth.
It was like watching a slow motion train wreck.
"Margot Daley, if it isn't obvious by now, I want to ask for your hand in marriage," Eddie was saying. If she had the courage to take her hand away in that moment, she would have knocked some sense into him. All of this over an unplanned pregnancy? Was Eddie out of his mind? He gazed up at her, his brown eyes serious and expectant.
It was too much.
"I'm sorry, Eddie." Margot only barely managed to get the apology out as she pulled her hand from his.
She turned, and retched over the side of the boat.
She continued to heave for several moments after she had finished. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Rotten morning sickness. Eddie had gone through so much trouble to surprise her by setting up this "meeting", and she couldn't handle standing upright through one measly boat wake…
When Margot finally regained enough composure to turn back around, she found that Eddie had disappeared below deck. She pushed several strands of hair out of her eyes and exhaled in disappointment. She didn't know whether to feel more frustrated or relieved that his stilted attempts to propose had been interrupted. All of this...cliché...it was so not the Eddie Jameson she knew. And it definitely wasn't the Eddie Jameson who made her heart race with his unexpected antics. That boy was the one she had once dreamed of marrying: the one who promoted his total zest for life, and dragged others along with him into adventure.
When Eddie reappeared moments later, he wasn't carrying a bouquet of exotic flowers or a glossy-furred Golden Retriever puppy with a bow around its neck. He was carrying a grocery bag. Before Margot could puzzle out the situation, or trust herself enough to open her mouth and ask, Eddie was ushering her back off the boat to the relative stability of the dock.
The last thing she expected once they arrived was to find a carton of yogurt thrust into her hands. She blinked her astonishment in what must have been Morse code. "Oh, right." Eddie fished around his pockets and produced a small silver spoon. He passed it to her. "Here. Eat. Protein helps," he explained.
Margot gazed at him in wonderment. "You...did you really stock the fridge of your ship with yogurt? Just for me?"
"I have other stuff, too," Eddie said quickly. "Everything from ginger root to ginger ale if you're feeling nauseous. I can even make you a peanut butter and banana sandwich. I know you used to like those when we were growing up."
