Marrying Ember

It didn’t work.

“When did you talk to Ember? What’d she tell you?” I wasn’t about to tell a story Ember wanted to tell herself.

“That trampy willow branch is her fucking sister?! Now Ember isn’t answering her phone, and I don’t—”

“Mon, Mon … Mon,” I repeated her name until she calmed down. “Ember and Willow are talking right now and, no, I don’t know what about.”

Monica growled into the phone. I could picture the hot-headed trucker-mouthed brunette getting herself into a tizzy. “Ember calls me at three in the morning and sobs the whole story, then tells me not to worry about it and she’ll see me in two fucking weeks?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, upset that in my exhaustion I didn’t realize my girlfriend had left the bed and was falling apart in a bathroom ten feet away.

“What do you want me to say, Monica?”

Her tone turned deadly serious. “Say you’re not going to bail.”

“What?” I looked up to the sky, silently begging God for a Monica Decoder Ring.

“Ember told me about your pleasant little panic attack a few days ago where you asked her to marry you in your living room. She told me, also, about her meltdown in the Starbucks parking lot. She’s afraid that those conversations, mixed with what’s going on in her family, will cause you to pull away.”

Monica’s words hit me in the center of the chest. Ember and I had just spent a beautiful night together, where I promised her that those exact things wouldn’t happen. Still, she woke hysterical in the middle of the night and poured it all out to her best friend who was more than three thousand miles away.

“Bo,” Monica quipped. “You’re not going to fucking run, are you?”

I stood up and snapped, “No! I love her. Forever. What the hell is with you two? Why can’t you accept that. I love her. I’m in love with her and only her and I want to marry her. You know that, Mon. I was going to do it when you were here in two weeks. Now, with all this stuff with her dad, I just … I don’t know if that’ll happen.”

“What, the proposal?”

“No, just not then. If she’s not on good terms with her family, there’s no way I can ask her. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Do you have the ring?” Monica asked, shifting direction.

“What?”

“Ring. Do you have one?”

I cleared my throat. “I’ve had it for a long time. It’s my moms. I had the stones re-set into a ring that’s much more Ember-like.”

“When did you have it re-set?”

“I’m not telling you.” I chuckled. “You’ll think I’m ridiculous.”

Monica clicked her tongue. “I already think you two are far beyond ridiculous. When did you have it re-set?”

“The day after your wedding,” I mumbled.

“Hot damn! Bo Cavanaugh, I’ll be out there the day after tomorrow. This nuclear meltdown is the job of a best friend. Sit tight, don’t tell her I’m coming, then we can get about the business.”

I grinned at her demands. “The business of what?”

“Marrying Ember.”

All the air left my lungs, and apparently, Monica heard.

“Bo? You alive over there?”

“You’re absolutely right, Monica.”

“Of course, but about what?”

“I’m going to marry Ember.” I began pacing an erratic path through the grass.

“No shit, Bo. That’s what all of this is—”

“No. Listen. You were coming out here for me to propose to Ember, right?”

“Yeeeessss,” Monica drew out cautiously.

“Screw all of that. I’m just going to get down to it.”

Monica huffed frustratedly. “Down to what?”

I smiled as broadly as I had in days. “Marrying Ember. I’m going to marry her, Monica.” A million lightbulbs flashed through my body. “It’s me. It’s her. I’m going to marry her. Just … marry her.”

After a long silence, Monica finally spoke. “All men should just go ahead and give up now. You’re not even real. Seriously. Do nothing except plan. I will be there the day after tomorrow. If I show up and you’re married … I’ll cut you.”

I laughed. “I know you will. And, I won’t be. I need to get her and her dad back on speaking terms. And, you have to help.”

“On it. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I slid my phone into my pocket and walked back to the parking lot just in time to see Ember handing Willow the keys to our rental car. I jogged over to the pair, noting that their parents were all still where I’d left them. Ember had our guitars and backpacks resting on the edge of the parking lot, leaving me to assume our time with the tiny rental car was over.

“What’s, uh, going on?” The adrenaline my body produced while talking with Monica made me sound more out of breath than I actually was.

Willow gave a weak smile and looked to Ember, who spoke. “Willow’s going to take the car and head back to San Diego.”

As I studied their faces, I didn’t see any signs of distress.

“I’m … confused,” I admitted.

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