She thought it was cute, even at twenty-seven, Puck still took at least an hour every Saturday to call his Nana. She was in her late eighties now and Puck had to talk really, really loudly when they spoke, repeating himself often. But he always emerged from the room moving like he was fifty pounds lighter with an easy smile on his face. It was just another thing on the long list of 'Why Lauren Zizes loves Noah Puckerman."
Lauren always left Puck to this time alone with his Nana, feeling like she would be intruding on something sacred if she listened or joined in. Most days she read or watched trashy shows from their DVR, but today their apartment was begging to be cleaned. Lauren was changing their clothes and sheets from the winter version to the summer sets. She was on what felt like her eightieth trip down the hall of the small Chicago apartment when she couldn't help but hear the words drifting from the office.
"No Nana, no great-grandbabies yet." He paused. "Because we're not married, Nana. We're still young enough."
She shouldn't have stopped. She knew she shouldn't be listening because she was holding her breath to avoid being heard. If you went to those extreme measures, you know you were doing something you shouldn't be doing.
"Of course I love her, Nana. More than anyone in the world." He chuckled. "Tied with you."
Lauren couldn't even pretend now. She was leaning up against the wall next to the open door, the laundry basket propped up on her hip.
"Yes Nana, ten years is a long time… I, um, I don't know if she would say yes." His voice as lower for that last sentence, the hollowness of resignation was audible. "I know she loves me. Marriage is just… not her thing."
Lauren's stomach clenched into a tight knot. Those were her own words coming back at her and they forced her to realize how empty that excuse sounded. More than just sounded, how empty that excuse was. She first started saying that the first time he uttered the word married when they were just 18 and they spent entire weekend in bed together, only getting up for food and bathroom breaks. After a few years, the response became an automatic one anytime Puck or anyone else mentioned marriage. "Marriage is not my thing." Lauren hurried away from the cracked doorway before she got caught. She needed to think.
Several weeks later, Lauren woke up slowly with a yawn and a stretch on a sunny Saturday morning. The sun peeking through the curtains of their bedroom woke her up which was her second favorite way to be awoken. They had arranged their bedroom very carefully so that Puck's side of the bed would never suffer such a horrible fate as sunshine in the morning. She laughed when she remembered their first few months in their apartment, Puck constantly scooting and shoving their bed a few inches in this direction or that, trying to find the perfect balance. "Yeah sun is nice. Sleep is better."
Today she counted it a blessing that the man slept like the dead. She had to lift his arm off of her body to extract herself from bed and her boyfriend didn't even flinch. She didn't change clothes; the oversized t-shirt was covered enough as she mixed the waffle batter. Learning to cook and do it well was something Lauren never thought she would do, let alone be proud of. I guess age changes a lot of things. She padded back to their room with a plate stacked with waffles and two large mugs of coffee.
Lauren chuckled silently when he stirred. Of course the smell of food is what wakes that boy up. He sat up and leaned against the backboard, still rubbing his eyes. "Mornin' baby doll. What's all this?" He still looked like a boy when he scrubbed his hand over the shirt stubble on his head, the rebellious Mohawk abandoned over time.
"Just woke up earlier than you and waffles sounded good." She handed him the plate and crawled back into bed next to him. By the time she settled and set her coffee mug down, Puck was already ripping hunks of the top waffle off and shoving it into his mouth. She shook her head and he smiled crookedly in return. He ripped off another chunk and silently offered it to her with his syrup-sticky fingers. She opened her mouth and accepted the bite.
"You know that is what I brought forks for," she tried to force a false note of exasperation in her voice but failed. She took a large gulp of her coffee and took a deep breath. "So I got you something." She leaned over the edge of the bed, her hair scraping the floor so that she could pull the case out from its hiding spot under the bed.
Puck couldn't help but stare at the bottom of her round, naked ass peeking out from under her sleep t-shirt. He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and mouthed a revenant 'Thank You' to whatever God was listening. "If you researched some new kinky sex position, let me just say thank you, yes please, and don't move." He heard the scrape of something heavy on the wooden floor. Then Lauren was back upright, holding an acoustic guitar case across her lap. "What is this for?" he asked trying not to panic that he either forgot a holiday or his birthday or something.
She breathed deeply again and looked into his eyes. "You have fucked up a lot of things in my life." He looked confused. "Things I thought I knew about the world and how it worked. Things I thought I knew about myself. I knew it was illogical, insane and probably impossible to actually fall in love in high school. I knew I was going to be famous. I knew what I needed out of life and love wasn't part of the plan. But then you showed up with your ring pops and goofy songs and stupid handsome face and you screwed my plans. I found out that there was someone out there who could love all my crazy and make every day of my life better. I found out that there was someone who is actually badass enough to be my best friend and the sexiest man I know." Puck was watching her with wide eyes, not breathing. "And if there is one single thing I know for certain anymore, it is that you are what I want. Forever. I know I've always said marriage wasn't my thing, but that's just another thing you screwed up. Because I've realized that I want nothing more than to be your wife. Noah, will you marry me?"
Puck was silent. His mouth was hanging open and he was looking into her eyes like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. Lauren's heart started beating even faster. "Oh, so this," she indicated the guitar in her lap. "I know girls normally get a ring as an engagement present, but I didn't think princess cut would suit you, so I… I got you this instead." She unhooked the case to reveal a honey colored vintage acoustic guitar. She looked back to his face from the guitar, "So?"
His voice was barely above a whisper. "God I love you." He finally allowed his eyes to flick to the guitar, but just as quickly they settled back on her face like gravity was pulling them there. "Yes, of course. I would totally love to be your husband. Make it legally binding that you can't get rid of my sorry ass."
Lauren giggled, more in relief that he said yes than at his joke. Puck silently closed the lid of the case and put aside so that he could pull her close. He tucked a stray stand of hair behind her ear and kissed her gently, his thumb still stroking her cheek. Lauren leaned her forehead against hers when they separated from the kiss. "I can't believe I am gonna be somebody's wife."
"Not somebody's… mine. My wife. Oh my god, you are gonna be my wife! Laur! We gotta call people!" He was like an excited kid as he fumbled around on his bedside table trying to find his phone. Puck shoved the discovered phone in the air with a shout of victory. "Aha! Got it!"
"You better call your Nana first."