Page 114 of Suddenly Dating
Her siblings certainly did. It occurred to her one day that they’d stopped calling her and had started calling for Harry. “Is Harry there? I have a question about my car,” Ty would say. Or, “Is Harry home? I need some advice about this guy,” Casey would say. Lola wasn’t bothered by it—she was happy that they loved Harry, too.
Harry’s mother, on the other hand, did not like Lola. She was still mourning the loss of Melissa. Lola knew this because Mrs.Westbrook would say to her, “Melissa was such a lovely girl.”
“Your mom is never going to come around,” Lola warned Harry one evening as they drove back to Lake Haven. “You’re going to have to choose between your mother and me.”
He laughed. “No contest.”
“You better mean me,” she said. Harry took her hand, a big grin on his face.
One night, Lola was in bed, a book propped on her knees, a bowl of popcorn on the bed beside her. She heard Harry’s truck on the drive, heard his boots on the steps of the porch. He walked into the bedroom, a dirty mess of flannel and denim and sweat.
Lola grinned. “Hey, there, Hardhat Harry. I left some King Ranch chicken in the fridge for you.”
Harry didn’t say anything. He walked deeper into the room and dropped his hard hat.
Lola looked at the hat, then at him. “Are you all right?”
“Yep,” he said, and pulled his shirt over his head. “Something extraordinary happened.”
He looked so serious, that Lola’s heart began to race. “What happened?” she asked, and pushed herself up, her book falling off her lap. “Did someone die?”
“No. Remember that project in Maryland I told you about?”
“Yes, the two overpasses. Oh no,” she said, and smiled sadly. “Did it go to someone else?”
Harry laughed. “Oh ye of little faith. No, it went to me. I got the first draw against the funds today.”
“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Congratulations!”
“But that’s not the extraordinary news.” He walked over to the bed and sank down on one knee beside her. “Lola, do you still love me?”
“Pretty much,” she said airily. “Why, did you do something?”
“Do you still want to marry me?”
“Of course. Do you still want to marry me?”
“Does this answer your question?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, holding it up to her. It was incredible—a diamond the size of the nail on her little finger, glittering in the lamplight.
Lola’s eyes widened with shock. “Harry, are you insane? We don’t have the money for a ring!”
“I didn’t buy it.”
She gasped. “What the hell have you done, Harry Westbrook?” she demanded, guessing that he had traded his pickup or some foolish thing for it.
Harry laughed and took her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger. “Look at that, a perfect fit.”
Lola held her hand up to admire it. “Is it real?”
“Of course it is, you little lunatic. It belonged to my grandmother.”
Lola stared at him. “What?”
“The extraordinary thing is that my mother gave it to me. She asked me to come into the city today. She said it was time I made an honest woman of you.”
“No she didn’t,” Lola scoffed. Mrs.Westbrook despised her.
But Harry nodded.
