Tribute

on the front of the first story, on the veranda, doesn’t add style. But it’s clean. And it shows care and intent. It was the oddest thing, Ford, the oddest thing. To be working with one of Matt’s crew on the cabinets, knowing my father was out back scraping old paint, and Angie was out front priming for new. Then Patty shows up at lunchtime with a bunch of subs and sides. Before they were fully devoured, she has a paintbrush in her hand.
    “I didn’t know what to think of it, what to make of it.”
    “Family pitches in.”
    “That’s just it. For basically the first half of my life, family was an illusion. A stage set. I used to dream about my mother when I was a kid. Those lucid, conversational dreams I get. But she was on that set, part of that illusion, a combination of her and Lydia—the actress who played Katie’s mother.”
    “Seems pretty much normal to me, given the circumstances.”
    “My therapist said my subconscious merged them because I was unhappy with the reality. Big duh, and it was more complicated than that. I wanted pieces of both those worlds. But I was me in them, not Katie. I was Cilla. Katie had her family, for eight seasons anyway.”
    “And Cilla didn’t.”
    “It was a different kind of structure.” A shaky one, she thought now. “Later, I stepped away from it. I had to. And coming here, I stepped out again. It’s strange trying to figure out how to blend in, or catch up, or sign on with family at this stage.”
    “Be mine.”
    “What?”
    “Be my family.” He set the ring box on the table between them. “Marry me.”
    For an instant she wasn’t capable of thought or speech, as if she’d taken a sudden, shocking blow to the head. “Oh my God, Ford.”
    “It’s not a poisonous insect,” he said when she snatched her hands away. “Open it.”
    “Ford.”
    “Open it, Cilla. You’re not supposed to piss a guy off when he’s proposing. Thrill or crush, but not piss off.”
    When she hesitated, Spock grumbled at her, and bumped his head into her shin.
    “Just open it.”
    She did, and in the soft dusk the ring gleamed like dreams. Lucid, lovely dreams.
    “You don’t wear jewelry much, and when you do, you don’t go for the flash. You go more subtle, more classy.” He felt that thing in his chest again, the hot rock of pressure he’d experienced with her father in the kitchen. “So I figure, you’re not going to impress the girl with a big, fat rock. Plus you work with your hands, and that has to be considered. So having the diamonds set in instead of sticking up made sense. My mother helped me pick it out a few days ago.”
    Yet another layer of panic coated her throat. “Your mother.”
    “She’s a woman. It’s the first ring I’ve bought for a woman, so I wanted some input. I liked the idea of the three stones. The past, the right now, the future. We’ve got our yesterdays, we’ve got our right now. I want a future with you. I love you.”
    “It’s beautiful, Ford. It’s absolutely beautiful. And the thought behind it makes it more so. I’m such a bad bet.” She reached over, took his hands. “Even the idea of marriage freezes me up. I don’t have the foundation for it. Look at what we were just talking about. You have two parents, with one marriage between them. You believe. I have two parents, with seven. Seven marriages between them. How can I believe?”
    Strange, he thought, that her nerves, her fears and doubts dissolved the thing in his chest. “That’s bogus, Cilla. That’s not you and me. Do you love me?”
    “Ford—”
    “It’s not that hard a question. It’s pretty much yes or no.”
    “It’s simple for you. You can say yes, and it’s simple. I can say yes. Yes, I love you, and it’s incredibly scary. People love, and it falls apart.”
    “Yeah. And people love and it stays whole. It’s just another step, Cilla. The next step.”
    “And this is meandering? Isn’t that what you called it?”
    “I picked up the pace. That doesn’t mean I can’t wait.” Ford closed the box, nudged it toward her. “Take it. Keep it. Think about it.”
    She stared at the box. “You think I won’t be able to resist opening it, looking at it. That I’ll fall under its spell.”
    He smiled. No wonder he loved her. “Dare you.”
    She closed her hands over the box and, breathing slowly, pushed it into her pocket. “I’m a has-been actress with a history of alcohol, drug abuse and suicide in my family. I don’t know why in