Page 52 of A Crazy Kind of Love
Eden smiled graciously. “Yes.”
“I thought so. I don’t want to interrupt your lunch, but I just wanted to tell you I loved your CD. I downloaded it and gave a copy to my daughter. Would you mind if I got an autograph?”
“No, of course not.” She waited patiently for the woman to conjure up some kind of pen and paper, but as the woman continued to stare helplessly at Eden, I reached into my pocketbook and rescued her from the awkwardness, handing her a pen.
“Thank you!” She relayed the pen to Eden, who still had nothing to write on. “Oh, right!” She fumbled in her fanny pack for something and came up with a checkbook.
Eden asked for her name and scrawled a message on the registry while the woman nattered on about how nice it would be for Eden to come play Indianapolis.
Eden kept writing. “Yes, I played there in June. So sorry you missed that.” She added her Twitter handle and website URL to the registry. “I hope you’ll sign up for my newsletter so you won’t miss me next time.”
As soon as the woman left, I asked Eden. “Should we go inside?”
“Maybe that would be a good idea.”
We grabbed our things and found a table at the far corner of the restaurant. I hoped that nobody else would want to stop and have their moment with her. Or take pictures and post them in a tabloid.
While we waited to order, she made some small talk about how great it was that we could meet. I reached out and touched her left hand, turning it for a better view. “I’d noticed before how gorgeous your ring is.”
“Ah. Yeah. I love it. Adam surprised me at one of our shows with it.” There wasn’t a wedding band.
“I thought I saw a ring on Adam’s finger.”
She balled her fists. “Do I need to tell you this lunch is off the record?”
My cheeks burned. “Of course not. I’m sorry. Natural curiosity. A great characteristic in a journalist. A terrible characteristic in a friend.” I had an urge to come out and tell her that Andy had charged me with the task of investigating, but then she might wonder why I’d even told Andy about our lunch. I already felt like this friendship was precarious.
“Well, it’s actually no secret. My mom’s Swedish.” She said it as if that answered some mystery. That explained where Micah got his coloring, but not why Adam was wearing a wedding band.
“And?”
“And in Sweden, men wear an engagement ring. It’s actually just the wedding band, worn a little early. As soon as he heard about this tradition last month, he insisted on getting one.” She shook her head and smiled fondly. “He’s really good at sucking up to my mom.”
I laughed. “That’s a great characteristic in a future husband.”
“I should just be wearing a band now and wait to get the diamond when we’re married. Adam didn’t know that either when he got me this.” She flashed her hand. “And I wasn’t about to wait to wear it. I have no need to impress my mom.”
The waitress arrived with her pen poised on a notepad. “What’ll you have?”
Eden ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and a soda. That sounded tempting. I ordered the same, but replaced the fries with a side salad and the soda with water.
As soon as the waitress left, Eden said, “So you’re going to want to know if we’ve set a date.”
The abrupt shift in topic took me off guard. “What?”
“Since we’re talking bluntly about your interest in my life, aren’t you going to ask when I plan to get married?”
“It does seem to be driving everyone crazy. You were engaged two years ago, right?”
“Yup. But we have a hard time coordinating. It’s been a crazy busy two years. It’s hard to plan far enough in advance to know for sure we’ll both be in the same town at the same time. Adam tours all the time.”
“Do you ever worry about him out on the road?” I wished I could take that back. So nosy. I wasn’t even trying to pry. “I mean. I would, but I think I might lean more jealous than you. You both seem completely smitten.”
“I used to worry. But Adam’s a keeper. I think it would kill him to cheat on me even more than it would hurt me. And then I’d kill him. He’s never been into on-the-road romance with groupies.”
“Unlike your br—” I clipped the last word when I realized how awful the question was. Did I really want to dig into Micah’s private life?
Our food came, and we fussed with settling in to eat. I could tell she had something on her mind, but she didn’t speak again until she’d taken a few bites and then a swallow from her drink.
