The Good Life

Chapter 32

Marla threw all her bags on the floor of her apartment. Boxes were all over the place. She had only lived there for 2 years, but it felt like home. Her bright colors and microfiber were going to be replaced by cool neutrals and leather. She threw down her large book that she was using to complete a grant writing assignment. “Blah blah blah. I’m so bored with this, baby. Let’s dance.” Marla turned the TV on to the Pop Music cable channel. They played good music occasionally, but most of the time it dated back to 2008. She often times found herself bored with it.

Thursday midevening, though, seemed to be an exceptionally good night for the TV station. Marla grabbed her remote, pulled out her bun, pushed the boxes out of her way and started dancing to every song that came on. She had no idea why it was just perfect. It was the first time, in a long time, that she was really happy. She forgot about the stress of the pregnancy, school, moving, not marrying the father of her child and all that accompanied that. She belted out OneRepublic’s Good Life as loud as she could. She closed her eyes and sang… before she got to the chorus a hand grabbed her remote and started singing with her. Bruno started performing a duet with her. She sang off tune and off key while he sang perfectly. He threw the verse back to her and she threw it back to him. They ended with:

“Sometimes there's airplanes I can' t jump out
Sometimes there's bullshit that don't work now
We are god of stories but please tell me-e-e-e
What there is to complain aboutttttttttttttttttttttt

The station quickly transitioned into a very familiar song

Her eyes, her eyes….

He grabbed her so close that she couldn’t breathe. “You are amazing.” he said to her sweetly.

“Just the way you are.” she laughed.

“Turn off the TV, crazy.” he continued to hold her while walking toward the TV, turning down the volume.

“Stop….stop for a second. Put your hand right there…” she grabbed his warm hand quickly and placed it on the side of her stomach.

“Se siente esto?” she asked him.

“Sí.” he answered her. “It’s…it’s…wow…”

right and early Saturday morning the two hopped in the car to meet the realtor at the new house. Marla could not stop talking about paint colors for the extra bedrooms and replacing his Ikea silverware.

“Promise me you won’t drop any boxes when you move this time, Bruno.” she told him referring to his last move which ended in 4 stitches to his chin.

“I’m not going to promise you anything of the sort, Mar.” he told her laughing.

“Okay, just don’t bleed too much. You know I can’t handle the blood. It’s almost as gross as smoke.”

The realtor was standing at the door in his million dollar suite with the keys. They exchange pleasantries and said good-bye.

“Wait, don’t go inside yet.” Bruno grasped her hand as she put her key in the door.

“But I want to open the door! You told me I could open the dooooor!” Bruno took a deep breath letting go of her hand.

“Go ahead. Open the door.”

She opened the door expecting an empty house. She was welcomed to an entry way full of pictures from the past few months. Pictures from the m.a.m.a earth event, their first date, the Los Angeles concerts, Las Vegas, their recent trip to Toronto all surrounded by candles and roses. An envelope was tapped to the top of the most recent photo – a 5 x 7 of their baby.

“Open it.” he whispered.

She opened the envelope to find two tickets to the UCLA/USC basketball game. A small yellow post-it fell out of the envelope. She bent down to pick-it up. 763 (it’s not baseball season). She started to cry. She blamed it on her hormones, but had she not been pregnant she probably would have cried anyway. She touched every picture as if she was the only one in the room. There was an empty frame near the living room. “What’s this one for?” she asked him.

It was the first time he had planned anything in their relationship. He had a whole speech thought out. He had Phil and Eric and even Marla’s father help him write a sappy cheesy speech about why he wanted to marry her. But all he could think of saying was, “Marla…it’s for us. I want it to be us, forever.” He got down on one knee, pulled out a glittering ring and asked, “Will….will…you spend the rest of your life with me? Marry me?” He stopped himself from saying please. He tried to slip the ring on her finger, but it wasn’t working. He knew she was a size 5 and a half. She always was.

“Oh, Bruno, yes! I’ll marry you. “She took the ring from him and put it on her pinky finger. “They got really swollen this week.” She kissed him gently and hugged him tightly.

‘I don’t know what I would have done if you said no…” he said grabbing her.

“Well, I wouldn’t have disappointed you like that.” She smiled.