Page 2 of Say You Will

“Even family dinners are grounds for war,” Papa Lark added, reminding me of my first Passover dinner when it turned out my ex-boyfriend was actually my new boyfriend’s childhood friend. We’d—Seth, my ex, and I—reconciled by the end of the weekend, and those few days were looked back upon in amusement, but while it had been happening, I hadn’t been completely sure of where I wanted to stand in the relationship.

“And don’t forget game nights.”

Leaning back in my chair, I rolled my eyes. Heaven forbid you mess with Ace’s game nights. Red Sox and Patriots ruled in our house. I enjoyed watching the occasional baseball game, but mostly I curled up on one side of the couch, ebook in hand, and stuck my feet in Ace’s lap. Twelve to fourteen hour days made for tired legs. Ace would be sucked into the byplay and mindless of what his hands were doing. I reaped the benefits. Go me!

Steepling my fingers, I pressed them against my lips. “So you’re thinking drunk, loud, and pissed he’s missing the game.”

“You might get lucky, and it’ll be a day game done by four, or West Coast and not start till after ten.” Papa Lark was just chock-full of helpful ideas. His brand of sarcasm, I could do without.

“Schedule’s up?” I asked, pulling out my phone and swiping it on. Most people didn’t know but Google Assistant and I equaled secret love affair. “Red Sox schedule.”

As much as I adored talking to Google, it didn’t hold a candle to Ace. God, I must really love him to actually plan a party around his beloved baseball team.

June 21, 2018. Minnesota 1:10 p.m.

I pumped a fist and grinned. “Yes! Day game.”

Looked like the Summer Solstice party was a go, and I had a decision to make: ask Ace to marry me, or not.