“Who cares? Don’t change the subject.”
“I wasn’t changing the subject!”
She gave me a skeptical grimace instead.
“Yeah, all right,” I admitted. “Maybe I was.”
“If you don’t wanna marry her, just say so.”
“That isn’t it.”
“Then what is?”
“I… don’t know how to do it,” I said at last. “Ask her, I mean.”
“For real?”
“Yeah. I thought about doing it in front of everyone—”
“Don’t,” Wren said.
I blinked at her abruptness.
“Guys always think we want these grand proposals,” she explained in a gentler tone, “like in the movies or fairy tales. But that’s a bunch of Hollywood BS. This is probably the most important question you’ll ever ask her, and it shouldn’t happen in front of an audience. You don’t want to put her on the spot like that. Trust me, I know when to make a public spectacle, and this isn’t it.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“I know I’m right. Do it somewhere private, just the two of you.”
I nodded.
“She loves the quarry and the lake. Why not take her there? I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
“I thought about that,” I said vaguely.
“Don’t just think about it. Do it! And don’t make it complicated, either. Just get down on one knee and say, ‘Will you marry me?’ See? Simple.”
“Easy for you to say,” I shot back.
“It should be easy for you, too. You’re the one who’s good with words. Besides, you know she’s going to say yes.”
“I know. But…”
Wren rolled her eyes. It was the most versatile expression in her repertoire, and she used it to devastating effect.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Man up,” she said. “You can do this.” She waited a moment and then went into planning mode. “Erin and the others are leaving on Thursday. So, Wednesday’s your day.”
“Why not Tuesday?” I griped, only half joking. “Or Monday? Why not tomorrow? Or even tonight?”
“Do you want my help or not?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Not tonight because it’s a little late. Besides, she doesn’t want a half-assed proposal.”
“Yeah, true.”
“Not tomorrow because she’ll know something’s up if you take her to the quarry all of a sudden. She may not want a public proposal, but she still wants to be surprised.” Wren paused to make sure I understood. Then she continued, relentless as ever, “Not Monday ’cause you’re meeting with Susan.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Susan? No… Granville.”
“You need to reschedule. Trip probably forgot to tell you. Susan wants an update on the permits. And she wants to make a bunch of additions.”
“Hold on,” I protested, “how do you know?”
“Duh, because we talked about it. Besides, it’s on her schedule.”
“Gee, thanks for telling me.”
“Blame him, not me. Anyway, not Monday.”
“Why not Monday afternoon? Or evening?”
Wren sighed and explained with exaggerated patience, “Because we want to celebrate. With a party. You don’t want to rush back after you ask her.”
“Why not?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, all right,” I said. “We’ll want to, ahem, celebrate privately.”
“You’d better screw her brains out!” Wren laughed. Then she thought of something and snorted. “Or she’ll suck yours out. Anyway, quit changing the subject. You can’t do it Tuesday, ’cause you’ll need to meet with Granville.”
“I’m glad one of us knows my schedule,” I grumbled.
She ignored me and plowed ahead, “On the plus side, that’ll be a good time if you need to do anything in town without her knowing.”
“You’ve really put some thought into this.” I didn’t know whether to be annoyed or impressed.
“Duh! It’s what I do, remember? Besides,” she added, “someone had to. Now, let’s move on. It has to be in the morning, and Wednesday’s the first time you can do it and not give away the surprise. We’re going to have a party that night anyway—sort of a last-hurrah, going-away party for the others—and that’s my cover story.”
“Hold on… why do you need a cover story?”
“I don’t know if I can plan a party without her knowing about it. Or at least suspecting.”
“Oh. Yeah. I hadn’t thought about that.”
“No, you hadn’t. So, she’ll think the party’s for everyone else, but it’s really for her. And you,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
“Of course,” I deadpanned. “So, Wednesday morning…?”
“Wednesday morning,” she agreed. “Will you be ready by then?”
“I should be.”
“Good. I’ll take care of everything on my end. You just make sure you’re ready on yours.”
“Why do I get the feeling that this is a group proposal all of a sudden?”
“Because it is,” Wren said matter-of-factly. “I can’t marry her myself, so I have to live vicariously through you.”
“Is that all?”
“Of course not. You’re my best friends. I love you both and want you to be happy. Besides, I’m tired of all your pussyfooting and procrastination. God! Trip has his flaws, but at least he’s decisive.”
“I’m decisive!”
She didn’t believe it.
“I am,” I insisted.
“Yeah, all right, you are. Most of the time. Now, are you ready to talk about the other thing?”
“What other thing?”
“Swinging! Duh! Haven’t you been paying attention?”
“No. Someone’s been grilling me about proposals.”
“Whatever,” she said dismissively. “Let’s talk party. Christy wants to play that blowjob game, the one Erin told her about. Anyway, she and Leah are cool with it, obviously. Brooke isn’t quite as single-minded about giving head, but she likes it too. So, that only leaves me.”
“I thought you liked it,” I said in surprise.
“I like it fine,” Wren said, “but it isn’t the only thing. I like to receive, too. You know? So, let’s come up with a game that the women can enjoy.”
“What d’you have in mind?”
“How should I know! That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Why not ask Trip? He’s the expert.” I said it with more sarcasm than I meant—consciously, at least. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who wanted to be the best at everything.
“That isn’t how this works,” Wren said. “He just wants to show up and screw… whoever.”
Because planning the sex is “women’s work,” I thought snidely, before I could stop myself. Worse, it must’ve shown on my face.
“Look,” Wren said, “Trip isn’t a chauvinist. Yeah, he can be, at times, but he’s a good guy otherwise. Maybe not as New Age touchy-feely as you, but I happen to like him a little rough around the edges.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “Sorry.”
“Good. Now, let’s talk about this game. No, wait… I have a better idea.”
I waited.
She thought it through and grinned.
“What?” I finally had to ask.
“I’ll ask Brooke.”
“Brooke?”
“Yeah. She’s smart. Really smart, damn her. Beautiful too,” she mused. “And I’d totally hate her if she weren’t so nice.”
I had the good sense to chuckle instead of saying something dumb.
Wren echoed my thoughts anyway. “Yeah, you told me so. Thank God I don’t have the hots for her.” She saw my look of surprise and added, “She’s too full of herself.”
If anything, Brooke was a bit insecure. And she was more annoyed by her looks than vain about them. I didn’t want to argue, though, so I kept it to myself.
“Anyway, I’ll ask her,” Wren continued. “We’ll come up with something. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”