"I expected a romantic dinner," Laurie said. Her tone was now more wistful than angry. "You never told me you were inviting a horde."
"Warren, Natalie, and Lou are hardly a horde," Jack responded. "They are our best friends."
"Well, you could have and should have told me," Laurie responded. It didn't take long for her irritation to resurface. "I was obviously reading more into the evening than you intended."
Jack looked off for a moment to control his own emotions. After the anxiety and ambivalence he'd expended planning the evening, he was unprepared for negativism even if it was understandable. Obviously, he'd inadvertently hurt Laurie's feelings while being so absorbed in his own. The fact that she was counting on the two of them being alone hadn't even occurred to him.
"Don't roll your eyes at me!" Laurie snapped. "You could have been more communicative about what you had in mind for the evening. You know that I don't mind any time you want to go out with Warren and Lou."
Jack looked off in the other direction and bit his tongue to keep from lashing back. Luckily, he knew that if he did, the evening could well become unsalvageable. He took a deep breath, resolved to eat crow, and then locked eyes with Laurie. "I'm sorry," he said with all the sincerity he could muster under the circumstances. "It didn't occur to me you would take offense with it being sort of a dinner party. I should have been more up-front. To be honest, I invited the others for support."
Laurie's eyebrows pulled together in obvious confusion. "What kind of support? I don't understand."
"At the moment, it would be hard to explain," Jack said. "Could you give me a little slack for like a half-hour?"
"I suppose," Laurie said, still confused. "But I can't imagine what you mean by support. Yet I do appreciate your apology."
"Thank you," Jack said. He breathed out forcefully before looking back into the depths of the restaurant. "Now, where's that hostess and where's our table?"
It took another twenty minutes before the group was seated toward the rear of the dining room. By then, Laurie had seemingly forgotten her earlier pique and was acting as if she was enjoying herself, with easy laughter and animated conversation, although Jack felt she was avoiding looking at him. She was seated to his immediate right, so all he could see was her sculpted profile.
To Jack and Laurie's delight, the same handlebar-mustached waiter who'd waited on them during their prior dinners at Elio's appeared at their table. Most of those previous meals had been delightful, although some had been less so, yet still unforgettable. The last dinner, a year previously, had been in the latter category, and it had marked the nadir of their relationship, occurring during a month-long break from living together. It had been at that dinner that Laurie had revealed to Jack that she was pregnant, and Jack had had the insensitivity of flippantly asking who the father was. Although Jack and Laurie had subsequently patched up their relationship, the pregnancy had had to be terminated in short order. It had been a tubal ectopic pregnancy necessitating emergency surgery to save Laurie's life.
Seemingly on his own initiative, although actually on Jack's prior request, the waiter proceeded to distribute long-stemmed flutes. He then opened a bottle of champagne. The group cheered at the sonorous pop of the cork. The waiter then quickly filled everyone's glass.
"Hey, man," Warren said, holding up his bubbly. "To friendship."
Everyone followed suit, except Jack, who instead held up an empty hand. "If you don't mind, I'd like to say something right off the bat. You've all wondered why I've invited you here tonight, particularly Laurie. The fact of the matter is that I needed your support to go through with something I've wanted to do for some time, but have had trouble marshaling the courage. With that in mind, I'd like to make a toast that's rather selfish."
Jack thrust his hand into the side pocket of his jacket. With a struggle, he managed to extract a small, square box made of distinctive, shiny robin's-egg-blue paper and tied with a silver bow. He placed it on the table in front of Laurie and then lifted his glass. "I'd like to make a toast to Laurie and myself."
"All right!" Lou said happily and with emphasis. "To you guys." He raised his glass. The others did the same, except for Laurie.
"To you guys," Warren repeated.
"Here, here!" Natalie said.
Everyone took a drink, except Laurie, who was transfixed by the box in front of her. She thought she knew what was happening, but she couldn't believe it. She fought against her emotional side, which threatened to bubble to the surface.
"You're not going to participate in the toast?" Jack questioned her. Her immobility aroused an unwelcome doubt as to what he had thought her reaction would be. All of a sudden, he questioned what he would say and do if she refused.
With some difficulty, Laurie pulled her eyes away from the carefully wrapped box and locked onto Jack's. She thought she knew what was inside the tiny package but was afraid to admit it. She'd been wrong too many times in the past. As much as she loved Jack, she knew he labored under the strain of psychological baggage. There was no doubt he'd been severely traumatized by tragedy prior to their having met, and she had acclimatized herself to the chance he might never get over it.
"Hey, come on!" Lou urged. "What the hell is it? Open it up."
"Yeah, come on, Laurie," Warren urged.
"Am I supposed to open it now?" Laurie questioned. Her eyes were still locked onto Jack's.
"That was the general idea," Jack said. "Of course, if you prefer, you can wait a couple more years. I don't mean to put any pressure on you."
Laurie smiled. Occasionally, she found Jack's sarcasm humorous. With trembling fingers, she removed first the tie and then the wrapping from the package. Everyone but Jack leaned forward with anticipation. The underlying box was covered with black crushed velvet. With the trepidation that Jack might be playing an elaborate and inappropriate trick on her, she snapped open the box. Gleaming back at her was a Tiffany solitaire diamond. It sparkled with what appeared to be an inner light.
She turned the box around so the others could see while she shut her eyes and fought against tears. Such emotionalism was a personality trait she despised in herself, although under the present circumstances, even she could understand it. She and Jack had been dating for almost a decade and living with each other on and off for years. She'd wanted to marry, and she had been convinced he felt similarly.
There were a series of oohs and ahhs from Lou, Warren, and Natalie.
"Well?" Jack questioned Laurie.
Laurie struggled to get herself under control. She used a knuckle to wipe away a tear from each eye. She looked up at Jack and made an instantaneous decision to turn the tables on him and pretend she didn't know what he was implying. It was something Jack could very well have done. After all these years, she wanted to hear him actually say what the engagement ring implied. "Well what?" she questioned.
"It's an engagement ring!" Jack said with a short, self-conscious laugh.