Liberty At Last (The Liberty Series) (29 page)

I’d been right.

“Did you ask me a question?” I asked still crying into John’s tee-shirt, clutching him to me. He put the ring on my finger.

“Will you marry me?” he whispered into my ear.

I burst into fresh tears. “Of course!” I said wildly, and cried even harder. “I love you, John Carter Quinn. I could never go back to a John-less life,” I said, sniffling and kissing his chest through his tee-shirt. “It would be too boring and safe.”

“No running, though,” John said, cradling me to his chest, kissing my hair. “No crazy step-daughters, no guns.”

“And all the cheap macaroni and cheese I could eat,” I said, shrugging. “For you, I’ll give it up. I’ll give it all up for you.”

We just held each other for a minute, feeling our closeness. It was the same, but it was different — stronger, somehow. I managed to stop crying long enough so I could intermittently reach up to cup John’s face and kiss him and then stare at my glittering, gorgeous ring.

“Are you sure you want to marry a stripper who’s twenty years younger than you? From a broken home?” I asked him, half-joking, half-serious.

“I’m sure,” John said, and held me closer to him, rocking me. “It’ll give me some street cred that I’ve been seriously lacking. Plus, you’re wicked hot,” he said, and brushed his lips against my neck. We both laughed.

“Are you sure you want to marry someone who’s so much older?” he asked pulling back and looking at me seriously. “Have you thought it through?”

I nodded at him, suddenly serious, too. It was a big deal. When I was in my forties, he would be in his sixties. When I was sixty-something, he would (hopefully) be eighty-something.

“I’ve thought about it, and I’m fine with it,” I said. “First of all, you’re in better shape than I am, and you’ll probably still be lifting weights when you’re 80. On top of that, you’re woefully immature — so in terms of relationship equilibrium, I’m not that worried about it.”

“Ha, ha,” he said.

“But I
do
want to ask you,” I said, feeling myself start to blush fiercely, “if you want to have more children.” I just left the sentence out there like that, without saying anything else. I wanted to have kids, not right now, but probably in the near future. I’d never thought of them before I met John; but it was like he had set off some sort of biological urge in me. Now I could almost sense them, our imaginary children, like they were out there, waiting for us. I held my breath, waiting for his answer.

John sat there silently for a minute, and I could almost
feel
him thinking. “I’ve gone over this in my head, again and again,” John said. “On the one hand, I have this horrible situation with Catherine. And part of the reason it’s horrible, maybe a large part, is because I failed her as a father.”

“What does Ian say about that?” I asked. He had such a great relationship with his own father. I couldn’t picture Ian remaining silent on the subject of John’s paternal duties over the years.

“Ian always said I was an idiot,”
he said. “He said I shouldn't have had sex with Eva unless I was in love with her. And that I should have expected what happened. He said I was being a baby when I complained that Catherine didn’t want to spend time with me. He said I should have been more mature about being a parent.”

We were both quiet for a moment…Ian always seemed to have those inarguable points. The kind that made you want to kick yourself.

“He was right,” John said, and shrugged. “I wanted it to be easy with her. Even though I wasn’t around, I wanted her to love me just because I was her father. And maybe she did, but that’s not the same thing as having a real relationship. And look at her now,” he said.

I heard myself sigh; I hadn’t meant to, but I did anyway.
He couldn’t go through being a parent again. It had cost him too much.
I guessed he was trying to give me an answer without giving me an answer.

“Liberty,” he said, looking up. He clasped my chin and brought my face to his. “I don’t want to be one of those pathetic guys that says he’s going to do it right the second time, with my ‘real family,’” he said.

“I understand,” I said, in a small voice. And I did understand. But I felt my heart breaking at the same time.

He gauged my look instantly and hugged me to him.

“But I’m
not
saying that,” he said. “And I
do
want to have children with you. If we weren’t going to South America in a few weeks, I’d make you marry me tomorrow and start trying to knock you up immediately,” he said and laughed, and it made my heart pound. I held my breath.

“There is something about being with you that makes me want nothing more than to feed you, make love to you, get you immensely pregnant with our gorgeous children and keep you all prisoner in our home, safe from the world, until the end of time,” John said. His tone was joking but his eyes were not.

“I didn’t keep Catherine safe, but I’m not giving up on her,” he said, sounding serious again. “I won’t forgive myself for what I did. But I can do better now. I’m a better person. So no matter what I’ve done in the past, I’m not giving up on the future.”

He leaned over and kissed my hair, then. “You gave me that hope, Liberty.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I’ve seen what you’ve risen up against,” he said, clutching my sides. “You’re so strong. The fact that you love me, that you loved me enough to risk your life for me, after everything you’ve been through…since you were a girl, no one’s ever earned your trust. And yet, you’re strong enough to trust me. That takes the bravest kind of person, Liberty.”

The tears started again.
No one could be this lucky.
I sniffled against his shirt.

“We are a couple of sniffling wrecks,” he said, patting my back and blowing his own nose.

“So — you want to sniffle through the rest of your life with me?” I asked.

“It would be an honor,” John said, kissing my forehead.

Since it’s true that there’s no such thing as perfect, it followed that not everyone was going to be as thrilled about our engagement as we were.

It started with Sasha, whom I called right after having coffee. “It’s three thirty in the morning,” Sasha said after picking up on the second ring. Her voice was tinged with barely-contained hysteria. “Please tell me you’re not bleeding out somewhere.”

“I’m fine, Sash,” I said, smiling to myself. “I just have some news. I only have a second and then I’m crazy all day, and I didn’t want to tell you this in a text.”

“You’re pregnant,” she snapped, and the wind went out of my sails at her accusatory tone.

“No,” I said, looking down at the enormous, sparkling ring. I felt my joy rise back up, in spite of her disapproving tone. “John and I are engaged,” I said. Just hearing the words made a huge smile break out on my face. I looked up across the kitchen at John’s profile and I could see that my statement brought an ear-splitting grin to him as well.

“Liberty,” Sasha trailed off, and again, I could again hear the disapproval in her voice.

“Typically, people say
congratulations
, if you’ve forgotten proper etiquette,” I said lightly, ignoring her tone and my hurt. I was willing her to be happy for us. If she wanted to be a part of my life going forward, she was going to have to at least pretend.

I heard her take a deep breath. “Congratulations,” she said. “I knew you two were in love when I saw you together. It’s great news, Lib. The age thing threw me at first, but I know he’s a good guy. I know you couldn’t love him otherwise.”

“He’s a great guy,” I said, looking up at him and grinning some more. “I’m really lucky.” I could feel the tears wanting to pour out again, but I held them in check. I didn’t want to confuse Sasha with my overwhelming torrent of emotions.

“Have you set a date?” Sasha asked.

“No, not yet,” I said. “We just wanted to take the next step and make it semi-official. We’ll figure it out. Listen, Sash, when we
do
set a date? Will you come? I need my maid of honor to be there,” I said. I blushed furiously and held my breath.

Then I heard her start crying. So I started, too.

“Of course I’ll be there,” she said, balling now. “You think I’d miss my baby sister’s
wedding
? And Liberty, I’m still so, so sorry —”

There was a lot more blubbering after that. I left the room so John could eat in peace and I could do my ugly crying routine without him having to watch.

A little later, with puffy eyes and running shorts on, I walked hand in hand with John across the field to the barracks. “I’m gonna skip the run and get going into Boston,” John said, kissing me on the nose. “Michael’s driving us. We’re going to pick up Eva and then meet with Dr. Sullivan.”

I squeezed his hands and put my forehead against his. “Thank you,” I said, quietly. “and good luck. I’ll be thinking of you.”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my favorite plain-vanilla exotic dancer,” said a sarcastic voice from behind me. I froze.
Catherine.

“Hi honey,” John said, turning to her and breaking our embrace. I stood next to him, a little behind him.

I hadn’t seen her in two days. She was on her crutches, her foot in some sort of boot, with Michael standing close behind her. In spite of all this, she looked improved. She was wearing makeup, and her color had returned; she was also wearing skin-tight designer jeans and the patterned blouse I’d picked up for her. Her hair was clean and hung in loose waves down her shoulders.

She looked stunning, even with the crutches. And mean. I didn’t know what to make of the look on her face — it looked like she had just swallowed something sour — until I made the connection to what she was staring at.

My enormous ring.

“
Are you fucking kidding me?
” she roared, looking at her father. “You’re going to
marry
her? You’re twenty years older than her, for Christ’s sake! You’ve only known her for three months! Seriously? And
I’m
the one who’s going to the fucking loony bin?”

“You’re one to talk about taste in life partners,” John said coolly. She looked from him to me, and on instinct, I cowered behind him.

“Nice secret-keeping, Liberty,” she said, flatly. “Way to go.”

“He deserved to know the truth,” I said, trying to sound brave but still hiding behind John. If I was being honest with myself, she still scared the bejeezus out of me.

“You don’t understand
shit
about what he deserves,” Catherine said, her eyes flashing at me in a way that was painfully familiar.

“That’s enough,” I said, mentally finding my big-girl panties.
At least she’s on crutches and can’t really get me.
That thought helped. “Stop disrespecting your father,” I said, sounding more forceful than I felt. “He hasn’t done anything but try, very hard, to make things right with you.”

“Sounds like someone’s working on their wicked stepmother routine,” said a voice behind me, low enough so Catherine couldn’t hear. I turned around.
Matthew.
He winked at me and made his face perfectly blank when John turned to glare at him.

“Shut it,” I said quietly.

“Oh great,” said Catherine, eyeing Matthew sourly. “It’s
Howdy Doody, The Adonis Version
.”

“Hello to you, too,” he said, cheerfully. “Going somewhere?”

“Oh, just fuck off, already,” she said. She motioned to Michael. “Can we get the fuck out of here, please? I hope they shoot me up with all sort of drugs so I can forget about all of you,” she said, clomping angrily towards the van on her crutches, Michael in tow.

“Well then,” said John, turning back to me. “Even if you run a thousand miles, you’re still gonna have a better day than me.”

I watched him go to the van.

“Absofuckinglutely,” Matthew said, and I just sighed.