Chapter 63

Brock changed into a suit and set candles on the table. The room service cart arrived just as he pulled Meredith's dress from his garment bag. After he tipped the waiter, he found the rest of her clothing and set it on the bed. Then he dimmed the lights and waited for Meredith to appear.

She had heard the knock on the door and grudgingly decided she needed to get out of the tub. She dried off slightly and asked Brock if the coast was clear. When he said it was, she walked out dressed as she had gone in. She saw Brock in a suit beside the candlelit table.

"I thought I might treat my love to a romantic dinner tonight," he said. Meredith smiled and glanced downward.

"I'm a little underdressed," she said.

"Your clothes are on the bed," he said. "I hope I did OK."

Meredith found her favorite knee-length cocktail dress. It hugged her curves and had a deep neckline that displayed her cleavage to its fullest advantage. She smiled to herself. The dress was her favorite because of the effect it had on Brock. Beside her dress she found a tiny pair of panties and thigh-high stockings. The shoes that matched the dress were in a box next to the stockings. She was instantly glad that she didn't wash her hair, then decided that was the reason Brock had offered bubble bath. She wouldn't wash her hair in the bubbly water.

It took her only a few minutes to dress and fix her hair. She didn't bother with makeup. Brock had always told her he preferred how she looked naturally. She arrived in the front room just as Brock was pouring two glasses of wine. She accepted hers and took a sip.

"Wow, this is really good," she said.

"I'm glad you think so," Brock answered.

A knock on the door brought in a waiter in full tuxedo. Brock assisted Meredith to her chair as best he could and them made his way to his opposite her. He lifted his glass to her.

"To you, my darling," he said.

The dinner featured Meredith's favorites and soon-to-be-favorites. The appetizer was prosciutto-wrapped pears in a light sauce. Meredith had never heard of it before she had to admit it was delicious.

A bowl of lobster bisque followed, then a strawberry and avocado salad. The couple chatted during the courses, exchanging jokes and discussing what lay in store over the next few weeks.

The main course was a petite filet cooked just the way she liked it along with grilled portabella mushrooms. She took her time to savor the meal and didn't even reach across the table to snag a portion of Brock's dinner, tempted as she was. Dessert was a mint-chocolate mousse. The waiter poured each a small glass of warm brandy and departed to let the lovers finish in privacy.

"That was amazing," Meredith said. "I can't believe you managed to plan this out as busy as you were all day."

Brock, in a planned move, held his hands apart and in the process dropped his fork on the floor. Meredith immediately moved to retrieve it, given his limited mobility.

"I'll get it," he told her. "It will give me an excuse to look up your dress."

"You don't need an excuse for that," Meredith said. "You only need to ask."

Still, she knew Brock had been bristling at his inability to perform even the most mundane tasks. He seemed determined to pick up his own fork so she sat back – but not before twisting around so he had a good look under the hem of her dress.

Brock moved forward on the floor until he knelt on one knee before her. She was so intent on giving him the look he'd ask for she didn't notice that he didn't reach for his fork at all. Instead, he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a box.

"Meredith Van Landingham," he said earnestly. "I believe I have loved you for as long as I've known you. I long ago realized that you are everything I've looked for in a woman. No woman could ever win my heart while we were apart because none compared to you. We share a home, our friends, our lives. I love you above all others. I ask you, humbly, to do me the honor of becoming my wife and allowing me to become your husband. Will you marry me?"

Meredith felt tears well up in her eyes the moment she realized what was happening. She had a lump in throat that felt like she'd swallowed a brick. She hurriedly wiped her eyes and nodded.

"Yes," she croaked. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Realizing it would be difficult for him to arise without help; she joined him on the floor and hugged herself to him.

"Yes," she repeated. "I'll marry you. I'll marry you. God, I can't believe this. I mean, I can believe it. I've dreamed about this. But I can't believe it's finally here. I love you so much."

She pulled back and kissed him, first gently and then more urgently. She would have made love to him right there on the floor if he hadn't shifted away slightly. She realized he was still holding the ring box in his hand.

"This ring belonged to my grandmother," Brock said. "It was one of the few things of hers my mother kept when my grandmother died. It's the only thing of my mother's that I kept. It's the last link to my old life. Because you were so instrumental in helping me build a new life, I hope you'll wear this as a symbol of the life we'll build together."

Meredith found her hand was shaking as she held it out for the ring to be placed upon her finger. She felt more tears run down her cheeks.

"It's perfect," she said, gazing down at it. The diamond wasn't huge. That didn't matter to her. It was the sentiment behind the ring that made it mean the world to her. She watched as the candlelight played off the stone.

"If you don't like it, we can replace it," Brock said nervously.

"No!" Meredith said emphatically. "No, it's wonderful. It's beautiful. You said it belonged to your grandmother?"

Brock nodded.

"This ring must be 50 years old," she said.

"Probably older," Brock admitted. "The DeVoe family liked to pass things like that from generation to generation. I'm not really sure how old it is but my grandparents got married in 1961. My great-grandparents got married in 1942, a few days before he went off to World War II. I suspect he was the one who bought this ring. It might have come from her side of the family though. It could be older than that."

Meredith couldn't take her eyes off her left hand.

"I love it," she said. "Really. I love it. It's perfect."

She gave him another kiss then abruptly jumped to her feet.

"I have to call Randi!" she said. "And Tara. And my Dad. God, I want to tell everyone. I'm getting married!"

Brock smiled at Meredith's enthusiasm. He hated to dampen it.

"Well, Randi is still on the set," he said. "And Tara is at the ballpark. Besides, don't you think it would be cool tomorrow morning to go down to breakfast and see who notices?"

Meredith smiled.

"That would be cool," she said. "But I should call my Dad. He's going to be surprised. I think he expected me to move back in with him when you got fed up with me."

She grabbed her phone off the counter and hit a button. Brock heard the phone ringing through the speaker and he heard Erin answer.

"Hi," Meredith said happily. "Guess what?"

"Uh, what?" Erin answered.

"I'm going to get married!" Meredith said brightly.

"Well, someday we hope so, dear," Erin answered blithely. "Your father and I have been setting aside money for a dowry in the hopes that someone would take you and Tara off our hands."

Meredith looked questioningly at Brock.

"I think she means that she is officially engaged," Brock said.

"Yeah," Meredith said. "That's what I meant. Is everything OK there?"

"I was playing with you, honey," Erin replied. "I'm thrilled. I really am. I've been expecting this. I had two or three responses planned out depending upon how you announced it. Your Dad said that you and he do that sometimes just to goof around. Let me get Sam. I love you, honey. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings."

"No, that was great," Meredith said, returning to her previous exuberance. "I just didn't expect it. It was totally perfect. It caught me completely off guard. You're officially one of the family now."

Erin laughed and called Sam to the phone.

"Hi, Daddy," Meredith said when he answered.

"How's Houston?" he asked. "I saw you on 'Sports Tonight'. It was great. I was really proud of you."

"Thanks, Dad," Meredith said. "I have some other news, too."

"What else?" Sam asked.

"Well, HIM magazine asked me to pose for them," she said.

"They did?" Sam asked. "Well, if that's what you want to do, I'll support you."

"Don't you want to know why?" Meredith queried.

"I assumed it was because you're a beautiful young woman," Sam said.

"Oh, Daddy," Meredith said. "You are so sweet. But there was another reason. They have a feature every year about wives of professional athletes. They wanted me to be a contestant in that section."

Sam caught Meredith's meaning but he let it pass.

"Well, that's great, Sweetheart," he told her. "I'm glad you're having fun there."

"Didn't you hear me?" Meredith asked.

"I think so," Sam replied. "You're going to pose in HIM."

"Because I'm going to be a wife of a professional athlete, Dad," Meredith said. "That's the important part."

"Well, someday we hope," Sam said, trying to hide his laughter. "Erin and I keep hoping we'll have enough money someday to get Brock to take you away. Really, we'd like to turn your bedroom into a study."

"Dad!" Meredith said. "Brock asked me to marry him tonight!"

"I suspected that when you called, honey," Sam said, finally giving into his mirth. "He took Erin and me to lunch last week to ask our permission. I didn't think he meant eventually. I'm really happy for you, love. In fact, I'm thrilled for you and Brock. I really think you're perfect together."

"Thanks, Dad," Meredith said, looking at Brock with tears in her eyes again. "I'll let you get back to your evening. I'll be over when we get back so I can show you and Erin the ring. It's an heirloom from Brock's family and it's beautiful."

"I'll look forward to it," Sam said. "Congratulations."

Meredith turned off her phone and turned to her fiancé.

"You asked my father for my hand in marriage?" she asked.

"It seemed like the right thing to do," Brock answered.

"It was," Meredith said. "It was absolutely the right thing to do. God, every time I think I can't love you any more than I already do, you do something spectacular like this. The dinner was so sweet. When you got down to pick up your fork, I never expected something like this. It was perfect, Brock. Why are you still on the floor?"

"Uh, when I practiced this maneuver I had to crawl to the couch to get up," he said. "It sort of ruined the whole effect. Could you help me up?"

Meredith laughed and let Brock use her for support until he had his good foot beneath him. She grabbed his crutches and handed them to him.

"Well, I can't call anyone I want to," she said.

"You can call the people in Los Angeles," Brock said.

"I can!" Meredith said brightly.

"I'd like to be the one to tell Zoe if you don't mind," Brock told her.

"Of course," Meredith replied. "You can tell Susan, too. It might seem like I was rubbing it in if I called her."

Brock laughed.

"Hey, guess what? I snagged him and you'll never get him," Brock said, mimicking Meredith's voice.

"I would never do that," she insisted. "OK, maybe I would. I'll call Mel and Jen. You call Zoe and Susan. Then I'll meet you in the bedroom and you can keep me occupied until Randi is home later. How does that sound?"

"I like it," Brock said.

Randi's call the next morning allowed Meredith the excuse she needed to be the last one down to breakfast. She insisted Brock go ahead – but also insisted that he not mention anything about the engagement.

"Yes, Dear," Brock said, laughing.

"You better get used to it, Mister," Meredith replied with a smile. "If you think I've been a harsh task-mistress as your girlfriend, you ain't seen nothing yet. I've been taking lessons from Esmi on how to run my man's life."

She put both hands on her hips and lowered her chin so she looked at Brock like a stern schoolteacher. The fact that she giggled as she did it ruined the whole effect.

Still, she arrived at the table just as her breakfast did. Brock wondered if she had been standing outside watching for her cue.

Esmi picked up on the glint of a diamond before anyone else. In fact, she appeared to see the ring before Meredith's bottom hit the chair.

"Oooh, oooh," Esmi practically shouted. "Let me see! Let me see it!"

J.C. and Zack looked at Al, wondering if the man's wife had finally gone off the deep end. Al shrugged because he wasn't sure himself. But Tara and Esmi were out of their seats and around the table to take Meredith's hand.

"That's a very pretty ring," Esmi said.

Tara looked at the ring and then up at Brock.

"That was your grandmother's, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," Brock said. "How did you know that?"

"I've seen it before," Tara admitted. "Your Mom let me borrow jewelry a few times. I saw the ring and asked her about it. Did you tell her its history?"

"What I know of it," Brock confessed. "I know it used to belong to my grandmother. That's about all I know."

"That ring was purchased in the early 1900s," Tara explained. "It's more than a hundred years old."

"Really?" Meredith asked.

"From what Brock's mom told me," Tara said with a nod. "It was first given to Brock's great-great-grandmother right after the turn of the century. It's been handed down to the oldest daughter since. Brock's grandfather had only brothers, so it was given to his grandmother when they got engaged."

"That's really awesome," Zack said.

"I wondered what happened to it," Tara admitted sheepishly. "When Brock's mom passed away, they, uh, they auctioned everything off. My mom and I went. We were going to buy the ring and find one of Brock's great-uncles to pass it on to. But it never came up for bid. We didn't know if the auctioneer might have stolen it or if it maybe was sold to pay off legal fees or something. I'm really happy it's still in the family. Did you tell my Mom about the ring?"

"Not really," Meredith admitted. "I told my Dad it was an heirloom but I don't know if he passed it along. I'll call her in a few minutes. I figure she might be wondering about it."

"I'm just glad it didn't go that awful lawyer," Tara said, shaking her head. "Whatever happened to him, Brock? You never really mention him."

"They could never get legal charges to stick," Brock said. "I had to settle for getting his law license revoked and bankrupting him. The court made him sell his sports car and his house. They even made him sell his fancy suits. It wasn't so bad for him though. I left him enough money to buy a gun and bullet, I guess. Lynn told me he blew his head off about a year after we went east."

"Oh, God!" Tara gasped.

"Hey, he took almost $200,000 from my mom," Brock said. "He promised her a zealous defense and then sat and did nothing. He claimed the money from Anderson was for a legal matter. The bar committee determined that he had committed professional misconduct by not disclosing the conflict of interest to me or Mom. I sued him on Mom's behalf as executor of her estate. He had to repay what he owed plus interest, along with a $500,000 punitive award. He still fell about $300,000 short of what he owed me when he died. I thought about suing his estate for the remainder but decided just to let it go. The fact he died alone was enough for me. That's how he forced my mom to die so I thought it was fitting."

"Hey, we're talking about my engagement ring here!" Meredith said. "Can we table the talk of suicide until later?"

"Have you thought about a date for the wedding?" Esmi asked to try to get the conversation off maudlin topics.

"I assumed I would be her date for the wedding," Brock cut in with a laugh. The guys all laughed but the women simply shook their heads.

"I haven't thought about it yet," Meredith told them. "I'll want to see what everyone's schedule is like and talk to Erin about helping me to plan it. I'd like your help, too, Tara – if you have time."

"I'll make time," Tara said firmly.

"Hey, did you mention the offer you got yesterday?" Brock asked.

"What do you think we've been talking about?" Meredith inquired.

"The other one," Brock said. "The one you got beforehand."

"Oh," Meredith said. "No. I got an offer from HIM magazine for their WAGs profiles."

"What is a WAG?" Zack asked. "I've heard it used but I've never understood it."

"Wives and Girlfriends," Tara explained. "It's a European term that's migrated to the States. It used to describe the women who hung out with their soccer stars. Now it's all sports."

"Oh, I get it," Zack said with a nod. "What did you tell them, Meredith?"

"Nothing yet," Meredith admitted. "I've seen it on the newsstands but I've never actually looked at it. I want to see what I might be getting into before I decide. I also want to discuss it more fully with Tara and Mandy."

"Why Tara?" Zack asked.

"I was a late entry last year," she said with a blush. "I refused to pose but they included me on the website list and used one of the network's promotional pictures. I think I was No. 85 or something."

"Hey, not bad for a late entry," Zack said with a smile. "What number was Esmi?"

Esmi crossed her arms.

"I am, apparently, too old to be included," she said.

"That's crap," Brock said. "If they saw you at the pool this time last year, you'd be Top 10 in a heartbeat."

Esmi smiled.

"And that is why Brock is my favorite player in baseball," she said.

"Mine, too, Mommy," Faith chimed in. "I mean, after Daddy."

"That's sweet, honey," Esmi said. "But I think I prefer Brock over your Daddy sometimes. Brock says nice things about me."

"Daddy said you were the most beautiful women he knows," Maria stated. "I heard him tell you that yesterday morning."

Esmi dark skin reddened and everyone at the table wondered if the girls might have overheard something they shouldn't have.

"Yes, he did," Esmi confirmed. "OK, Brock is second behind your Daddy. Is that better?"

The girls nodded and went back to their breakfasts while the adults tried to hide their smiles.

The first order of business for Brock that morning was a radio interview for the broadcast company with the radio and internet rights to the All-Star Game. It went fairly smoothly. Then he was free until late afternoon when he had his turn with the assembled media. Since he was injured and not playing, he was among the last players brought out.

He had hoped that most of the reporters would have gone home by then but it didn't appear to be the case. Rather than stand at the podium as the others had, Brock chose to rest his arms by sitting in a chair at a table. It played hell with the TV cameras but he really didn't care.

"Brock, do you have any comment about the statements made by Carter Repling earlier today?" a man asked.

"In general, I've found that Repling's mouth moves a lot but the whining sound it emits can only be heard by dogs – and apparently journalists," Brock said. "So I have no idea what he might have said and I doubt I would find it worthy of a comment even if I knew."

Brock pointed to another reporter for a fresh question but the first one didn't appear to be giving up.

"He said it was a disgrace that you were on the team," the man cut in.

"I'm sure the 2 million fans who voted for me will take that in the spirit it was meant," Brock replied with a smile. "With community relations like that, it's no wonder why Arizona draws 12,000 fans a night. Next question, please."

"So you have nothing to say in response?" the first man tried again.

"Indeed I do," Brock replied but pausing a moment to keep his temper. "You will note that Mr. Repling made that statement to you and not to me. Perhaps it's because he wouldn't like to try to walk with a crutch up his ass – which is exactly where I'd put this if he were to make such a comment to my face. It's the typical cowardly bullshit that he personifies. But what can you expect from a man whose first response to confrontation is to run away and then plead his case to the sportswriters? Next question please."

An aide leaned down to whisper in Brock's ear that the news conference was being telecast live on ASN News and on the internet.

"Well, I guess everyone knows how I feel then," Brock replied aloud. "I hope the folks in Boston are using a seven-second delay."

"Mr. Miller, do you have a timetable for your return to the field?" another journalist asked.

"Nothing definitive," Brock answered. "The cast should be off by the end of the month and then we'll just have to see where my conditioning is. I've been doing as much of a workout as I can but frankly, it's been pretty fruitless. Outside of playing some long toss while I sit in a chair I've been pretty restricted."