“There absolutely is,” he said, taking her hand with a broad smile. She rolled her eyes, but let him pull her close.
For a moment, I was reminded of Quinn’s hand in my own, and I had a sudden image of taking his hand not to dance, but to pull him into the center of a crowd and tell everyone how lucky I was to have been married to him for fifty years.
I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine what that would be like, and I’d never know. I’d been mostly honest when I told Quinn that I’d learned about rejection the hard way. I knew for certain it was best for me not to get too close to anyone.
“Delia, you are the love of my life,” Julius said, facing his wife with eyes full of adoration. “It’s been fifty years, and not a day goes by that I don’t thank God for making me the luckiest man alive. You’re not just my life. Not just the mother of our four children. Not just the grandmother to nine more. You’re an angel. And you’re my best friend. We’ve been together fifty years. What do you say—want to do fifty more?”
Delia had covered her face with her hands as Julius was talking, but now she dropped them and her eyes sparkled with tears. She smiled up at him, then tugged at his lapel, pulling him down for a kiss. The crowd cheered.
The music had just started up again, a few bars of piano music floating through the air, when there was a loud tapping on the microphone, followed by a new voice saying, “Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen.”
I looked toward the voice. Brandon, Julie’s boyfriend, had taken the microphone from Julius’s hand. Julius looked surprised, and he and Delia had taken a step back.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” Brandon said again, smiling apologetically at Julius. “I’ll only take a few more minutes of everyone’s time, I promise.”
I shot a look at Quinn. He was standing stock still. His mouth was open in a small ‘o’ of surprise. His hands were clenched into fists. I wondered if he was even aware of it.
“I just wanted to say again how much I appreciate Julius and Delia inviting all of us to celebrate their love.” Brandon smiled at the couple he’d upstaged. “Their love is something all of us can aspire to. Their marriage is one I’m sure all of us want to have. And speaking of marriage…” He paused, scanning the crowd. “Julie, would you join me, please?”
There was a gasp from the crowd as he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet-covered box, then opened it to reveal a sparkling diamond ring.
“Show off,” Thea whispered, but for once, she was quiet enough that I didn’t think anyone else heard.
Quinn looked horror-struck. Not just at the social faux pas of making someone else’s anniversary all about you, but at something deeper.
The crowd parted around Julie as she walked forward, joining Brandon in the middle of the circle. Brandon dropped to one knee and looked up at her, proffering the ring with one hand, holding the microphone with the other.
“Julie, baby, these past months are the happiest I’ve ever been. You are an amazing woman, and I can’t imagine a day without you. I want to still feel that way in fifty years. Julia Denning, will you marry me?”
Julie clapped her hands to her cheeks, letting out a high-pitched squeal. She nodded frantically and extended her hand so Brandon could slide the giant diamond onto her finger. “Yes, yes, yes,” she said when he stood and pulled her into a hug.
I looked over at Quinn again, and my eyes went wide. He had disappeared.
I looked at Thea. “Did you see Quinn leave just now?”
Worry threaded through my stomach. Something was wrong. I didn’t know what, but Quinn had been acting weird all evening, and now he was gone.
“I was too busy wondering where on earth that boy got the idea that he should propose in the middle of someone else’s party.” Thea shook her head. “But if he’s gone, you’d better go find him,boyfriend.”
I was already moving, pushing back through the circle, then scanning to corners of the room. I didn’t see Quinn anyway and hadn’t really expected to. He’d been upset by what had just happened. I still didn’t know why, but I didn’t think he would have stuck around.
I checked the men’s room, the hotel lobby, even the other bar for Quinn, but couldn’t find him anywhere. And then, crossing the lobby for the second time, I decided to check outside. I pushed through the revolving doors and found Quinn standing five feet down the hotel sidewalk, staring out at the darkness, his hands jammed in the pockets of his blazer.
“There you are,” I said. “What’s going on?”
“What?” He blinked. I didn’t think he’d noticed me ‘til I’d spoken. “Oh. Nothing. It’s fine, just go back inside.”
“No.” I gave him a level look. “I won’t make you talk about it, but I’m also not going back inside like some asshole. If you’re upset, then I, as your boyfriend, am staying with you.”
“You’re not my boyfriend,” Quinn said bitterly.
“No. But I can still be your friend.”
I realized, as I said it, that I meant it. I liked Quinn. He was different from my soccer friends. Different from the kids in my classes. Different even from my housemates, despite sharing a common interest in men. Quinn reminded me of stepping into a used bookstore, with nooks and crannies and hidden corners and halls that went on forever. He had depths I’d barely scratched the surface of. I wanted to get lost inside him.
He snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”
I didn’t bother contradicting him. It didn’t seem like it would do any good. But I decided right then that I wasn’t done with him. I wanted to be his friend.