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Tansy joked. “I might like to see it.” “I beg you.” Gemma let her arms fall theatrically behind her head. “Spare me, please.”
Gemma (8:14 p.m.): And you can’t say it *is* too much if *you* don’t know how much it is. We can keep going in circles all night.
That sounded an awful lot like Gemma was thinking long term.
Gemma (8:22 p.m.): You’re thinking small, sweetheart. I can do all of that *and* build you a rare books room *and* whisk you away to Al Barbacani Venezia for the best Italian food you’ve ever eaten in your life. It’s not an either/or deal.
“Four, if someone is willing to ride in the trunk.”
Tansy (9:24 a.m.): I’m always thinking about
“Quite frankly, my only love.”
“I’ll be right beside you the entire time. You say I do, I say I do, they pronounce us wife and wife, we kiss, boom, hitched. It’ll be a piece of cake, and after it’s all said and done, we get to eat cake.” Her smile went sly. “And if you get nervous up there, just picture me in my underwear.”
White ranunculus, pink roses, and—oh. Tansies.
“This is the happiest day of my life.”
It wasn’t what Mom had said, and probably wasn’t what she meant, but all Gemma could hear was haven’t you done enough damage?
“If that’s what you want.”