Page 102 of Love is an Open Book
But her books have taught me that a grand gesture needs to be personal, envisioned with the person you love at the forefront of your mind. I force myself to stop worrying about what the heroes in the pages of her novels would do, and focus on Mia.
I’ve loved her for nearly a decade. Loved being quizzed by her on note cards for my college exams. Loved watching her graduate with honors and later shift careers entirely to even more success. Loved spending rainy days watching movies with her. Loved listening to her theories on why cold pizza is the devil’s handiwork. Loved how she always knew the right thing to say, even if I didn’t want to hear it. But it wasn’t until this summer that I realized I’m deeply in love with her.
I believe we can have the kind of lasting love she writes about, the kind of love that surpasses friendship and dives headlong into passion. I can’t help feeling that we’ve been moving toward this all along. Toward each other. At least, I hope so.
I stayed the weekend with my family, but by the time Monday rolled around, I couldn’t wait any longer to get started on my plan to win Mia back. When they heard what I had in mind, Scott and Amber even left the boys with Dad and drove out to pitch in for a couple days. Funny how supportive family can be if you open up to them. But this is a big job and I practically begged my friends to help me pull this off before Mia gets back from LA. Faye told me to take as much time as I need, teasing that if Mia forgives me, she plans to ask her to name a character after her.
We’re at the community lot where the cats were found, working on a project that I hope will show how much I care about her. Morris took some convincing to spend extra hours volunteering, and he looks up from where he’s planting a row of rosebushes. “Dude, these will never fill out in time.”
“It’s the thought that counts?” I didn’t mean it as a question, but everything is up in the air right now. I don’t know if it matters that I already planned to do this. Can a grand gesture be the same as a gesture of friendship? All I know is I think Mia will love it. Whether it’s enough to make her forgive me is another story.
“Positive thoughts, Gavin.” Riley clasps me on the shoulder. “You’ve gotta go big when you screw up.”
Joe pulls a petunia from a seedling tray. “Yep, the apology has to be equal to the screwup,” he says. “Marriage has taught me that.”
“Well, in that case, I’ve got months of groveling ahead.”
“Sure do,” he agrees.
“At least,” Riley adds.
“You’ve just met and already ganging up on me?”
“Us?” Joe says. “Never.”
“Little bit.” Riley pinches her index finger and thumb together. “Just enough to make sure you don’t chicken out.”
No chance of that. The only worry is what happens when I go through with this. I jam my shovel into the dirt and turn over a fresh patch of soil. Good thing I’ve got a few days to get everything in order.
I raise my head, swiping my gloved hand across my brow, and do a double take at the man who’s making his way toward us over the grassy field.Ted?
“Someone you know?” Riley sits back on her heels, shading her eyes.
What’s he doing here? The only thing I can think of is an accident, something wrong with Mia or... I’m jogging over before I’ve even formed a coherent thought, fear hurrying my steps. I reach him and ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Everything’s good. But you’re a hard guy to track down. Didn’t answer your phone, and I stopped by your house, called your work.” I pat my pockets for my phone but come up empty. Must’ve left it in the truck. “They said you’ve been spending a lot of time here.” He looks past me and gives the others a wave. “Hey.”
Impatient, I tug on his shirtsleeve. “Ted. Why are you here?”
He smiles, and I get the sense he’s enjoying having the upper hand. That eases my mind—he’d never play games if Mia was hurt. But it’s also infuriating. “I have a message for you. Kim was supposed to bring it, but her meetings ran long, so here I am.” His face goes blank. “Whoops, left it in the car. Hang on.” He jogs back toward the road.
I turn toward my friends with what I’m sure is a WTF expression plastered on my face.
Riley shades her eyes, squinting in the direction he left. “He’s, uh, coming back. With balloons.”
I look back and sure enough, he’s rushing toward us witha bunch of confetti-filled balloons. He holds out an envelope and I take it, the paper thick and expensive-feeling. My name is written on the front with gold lettering.
Unable to contain my curiosity, I flip it over and break the wax seal, but not before noticing it’s stamped with Mia’s initials. My stomach turns over. She wouldn’t go to all this trouble for bad news. But she might be trying to convince me to return to friendship. With shaking hands, I slide out the card stock inside and scan the embossed note.
Gavin,
Will you be my date to the season premiere?
I have a lot to tell you, starting with I’m sorry, and ending with I don’t want to go through life without you. I’m not scared to tell you (actually, that’s a lie, I’m terrified, but I’m doing it anyway) that you mean the most to me. I don’t want to just be your friend anymore (though that’s a big honor). I want to be the person you wake up to every morning, the one you tell all your secrets (even if you tell Joe right afterward).
I understand now why you can’t be my friend, and I don’t want to be yours, either. I want to be your girlfriend, if you’ll have me.
P.S. I almost forgot the details. Enclosed is a first-class ticket to LAX, and if you want to fly out and spend the whole time in the hotel and eat room service and never see me, that’s okay, too. But I really want a chance to tell the world I’m in love with my best friend, so if you’re up for it, I put you on the list as my plus-one for the premiere.
