But then I remembered what she’d told me in high school. “Don’t fall for the pretty boys. Everything has come too easy for them. They never learned how to struggle, so when they get older, they turn into whiny little boys in grown up men’s bodies.”
Yet, even though Timothy was gorgeous, that didn’t describe him. He’d struggled in his earliest years. He’d fought with courage, industry, and determination. He’d had to grow up without parents, relatives or friends, and I knew that he would never become a whiny person. I wished I could explain that to my grandmother. I wished she were here with me, so I could.
The elevator bell dinged as we hit another floor. The door slid open. I peeked into a hall that looked exactly like the one in our floor. It was a strange thought that there were mirrored ripples of rooms, each one filled with guests doing San Diego things. Had some of the people gone to the zoo and to Sea World? Had they spent their day inside an office, doing business things, unaware of the ocean so close by?
San Diego was close to Mexico, a whole different country. I asked the guys how far it was as the elevator door silently slid closed.
“Seventeen miles,” Terry said. “I looked it up, curious about the distance.”
Timothy growled slightly, not in a vexed way, but as if I’d asked him if we could make a quick visit there. “We are not going across the border my darling. It’s not really safe anymore. Too many drug lords, ruffians, and criminals wanting to kidnap a pretty lady like you.”
I nodded, pondering that. “Okay. I just wondered,” I said softly. “I’ve never been out of the United States. I’ve never been out of California, actually.” I laughed, more from embarrassment than because I thought it was funny.
“Then we shall plan to honeymoon someplace in Europe. Which will it be: mountains, beaches, exotic, friendly, lots of coffee bars?”
The last one had me laughing, this time in earnest. “Yes, to all that.”
Bob laughed then, too. “Congratulations. A wedding is a good thing.”
Terry’s elbow was bopping at Bob’s ribs. I guess the guys weren’t supposed to engage with me, but geez, they’d been with us for every hour of our adventure. It was hard not to include them in conversations.
Timothy took a moment to give Bob a look: stern, judgmental, and authoritative.
I ignored Timothy’s gruffness. “Thank you, Bob,” I said, still wondering if I’d made a commitment to go through with the marriage. Had I? Was it a certain thing? I mean, just because we’d discussed weddings. . . Hadn’t Timothy said he didn’t want to push me into one when I wasn’t ready?