For the Record (Record #3)(71)
Author: K.A. Linde

He had told her once before that he could never be cajoled into marrying. That he could date, but marriage wasn’t on his horizon for a long time. But he loved her, and wanted this life with her.

She felt a tear run down her cheek as she nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

A smile broke out across his face. He plucked the ring out of the box and slid it gingerly onto her finger. It fit so perfectly that it was as if it were always meant to be there.

And then Brady was kissing her. Their lips melded together. His hands tangled in her hair and hers grabbed on to his waist, trying to get him as close as she could. She had never seen this moment coming. Even in her wildest fantasies she hadn’t pictured this happening until years down the road, but here and now couldn’t have been more perfect.

Brady was right. There was no need to wait. They had already been through hell and back. They had already realized they couldn’t live without each other. They lived together and worked together and traveled together. There weren’t any obstacles holding them back from this. And she wanted it.

She wanted to be with him. She had always wanted it. Life without Brady had always been like walking out of Technicolor into black and white: drab and lifeless.

They stayed like that until they both broke apart gasping. Brady wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. Tears of joy and happiness and contentment.

After a moment, Brady laid them back on the quilt, cradling her body against his. They lay there staring up at the stars, lost in the euphoria of their engagement.

Chapter 28

RIGHT DIRECTION

Liz and Brady spent his five days of vacation celebrating their engagement. The day after the primary, they had lunch with his family to tell them the news. The welcome she received brought tears to her eyes. Marilyn and Jeff both hugged her and told her that they were happy to have such a wonderful future daughter-in-law. Savannah was jumping-up-and-down excited. Even Clay smiled at the news. Though it did seem to make Andrea more pouty and bitchy than normal.

Clay had hugged her when they were leaving and whispered in her ear, “I guess the golden boy is still perfect, huh?”

Liz had smiled as she drew back. “Don’t worry. No one will take your black-sheep title.”

He had laughed and shaken his head. “I was never worried about that.”

“You should be worried about Andrea, though. She looks like she’s ready to be married off.”

Clay had just shrugged. “She’ll survive.” He had looked pensive for a moment before deciding that he could continue. “I want what y’all have.”

Liz hadn’t been sure that she had even heard him right, and then he was gone. Sometimes that man confused the hell out of her.

That weekend Brady had flown them down to Tampa. She had wanted to see her family before school started; now she had the excuse—to tell them about her engagement.

Her parents were, as Liz had expected, shocked. She and Brady had only been dating for six months and that seemed fast to them. But she explained that she couldn’t think of her life without him and she was insanely happy about the decision. After that they seemed to relax. She didn’t blame them for having an is this man taking advantage of my baby? feeling, but that was so far from the truth that it was easy to dispel it.

As soon as the apprehension left their faces, her mother immediately launched into preparations and they didn’t stop until the minute they were getting back on the plane. What kind of dress do you want? You look lovely in white, dear. Will Victoria be the maid of honor? I loved the Trenton wedding last year, and she had champagne and rose as the color palette. Are you thinking something like that? I wonder what floral arrangements we should look into. Orchids or lilies? Spring or fall? Tampa or D.C. or Chapel Hill?

The questions went on and on and Liz just listened, answering as best she could. The only thing that she knew for certain was that they wouldn’t have any time to plan until after the election. November 3 was Election Day and then after that . . . they would have the rest of their lives.

Liz’s first day of school at Maryland in the journalism program was on Monday. She met with her advisor that morning for the first time. She took a seat in an oak chair facing his desk.

“Welcome, Liz. We’re pleased to have you in Maryland’s Journalism Department.”

“It’s a pleasure to be here, sir.”

“Feel free to call me Terry. We’re colleagues now,” he said with a warm smile. “Lynda spoke wonderfully of you when I spoke to her. She said you were hardworking, and we’re always glad to have students like that here.”

Liz smiled and imagined the conversation between Terry and Professor Mires.

“I went ahead and got together your class schedule as well as your teaching assignment for the semester. We put you with Dr. Mary Whitley’s Tuesday/Thursday ten a.m. section and you’ll have a breakout Thursday afternoons at two.”

“That sounds great,” she said, relieved. She didn’t want to have any Friday classes so that she could be with Brady during the campaign as much as possible.

“I placed you in the four prerequisite classes as you can see here,” he said, passing her a sheet of paper. Four classes starting at three thirty in the afternoon Monday through Wednesday and Friday. Her stomach dropped. She knew that she would have a heavy load, but she hadn’t anticipated a Monday and Friday class.

“Sir . . .”

“Terry, please.”

“Terry,” she corrected herself. “Is there any way that I can take the Friday editing class next semester? As you might be aware, my fiancé is running for Congress in Chapel Hill.”

He nodded. “Yes, I think I heard that. Maxwell?”

“Yes. Well, if it doesn’t disrupt my entire schedule, I’d like to be able to be helping on the campaign as much as possible.”

Terry looked through his notes and started reading a piece of paper. “Ah. You do have an interest in political journalism. Well, I’ll check with the head of department to verify that we can make an exception, but I don’t see why not. We like to tailor curriculum to our students.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Terry smiled again and laughed. “Please call me Terry.”

With her schedule arranged and everything seemingly in order, Liz moved easily back into the academic setting. Her classes were small and the classwork rigorous, but she found that, as she always had, she enjoyed the work. It kept her focused and motivated. It did make juggling her Dear Congress articles and Justin’s blog, which she’d resumed writing after the convention, much more difficult.