31. Data

THIRTY-ONE

Data

I over analyze. I overthink. I rely on facts and numbers. I weigh pros and cons and do cost-benefit analyses and write out lists and ask myself if I'm sure about something a dozen times before actually doing it.

I don't blurt out marriage proposals.

And yet, as soon as the words leave my lips and my knee touches the floor, a sense of assured calm comes over me. It's like in the movies when a light shines down from the sky, spotlighting the main character and everything clicks into place.

I have zero desire to analyze or overthink a single cost or benefit when it comes to asking Marsh to spend the rest of his life with me.

I just know.

I know that no matter what, the sun will rise tomorrow and fish will swim in the ocean and I will be in love with Marshall Goldberg.

I've known for a while. Hell, I've known for eight damn years, since the moment he stepped onstage in that fakakta Glengarry Glen Coco and my whole body screamed Who is this man? A million microscopic cosmic decisions sprinkled across our lives brought us together. In this big, scary, complex, anxiety-inducing world, the gods of fate let us find each other and enjoy a sliver of happiness amidst the darkness .

And so even though this isn't planned, and even though Marsh is looking at me like I have two heads, for once in my life, I don't have a speck of uncertainty weighing me down.

I am in the exact right place at the exact right time saying the exact right thing to the exact right person.

"Data … are you serious?" Marsh's lower lip wobbles as he processes the shock.

"Yes," I say confidently. "Will you marry me, Marsh?"

Marsh is my family. I've known that for a long time. Before the breakup. During the breakup. Ever since our return from Marshmallow Mountain, the clarity has only intensified. I knew this would happen, eventually. Apparently eventually is now.

"You want to marry me?" Marsh asks, clearly confused with how proposals work.

"Yes. Hence why I asked ‘Marshall Goldberg, will you marry me?'"

"You do realize that marriage is until death, right?"

I nod yes.

"And that when you ask me to clean the kitchen, it will never be as spotless as when you do it?"

I nod again.

"And that I will never stop making corny, inappropriate jokes about buns and plowing no matter how many times you roll your eyes?"

"Yes!" Joe shouts out. "Now say yes back and kiss the man, you putz!"

Marsh sits on my bended knee and kisses me. "Then my answer is yes."

"Finally, you'll be a Sadie," Joe says. He hums the song from Funny Girl, and both Marsh and I laugh. In the Venn Diagram of gays and Jews, Barbra lies right in the middle.

I stare into his beautiful eyes. They're misty, and I want to take a picture of his face to remember the image of pure surprise and joy plastered on his handsome mug. Taking his hand in mine, I rub my palm up and down his forearm, returning the gesture he's used so often on me.

"I know this is a surprise." My fingers, on his skin, feel home. "Being apart, even for a few months, only made me realize how much I want to spend the rest of my life with you," I say.

I wait for a joke or a song lyric or a line from a crappy movie he's made me watch four times hoping I'll buy into the humor, but Marsh only sniffs, tilts his head down, and says, "But … "

"But nothing. Marshall Goldberg." I raise his chin so our eyes meet. "You are my everything—whether you like it or not. You're an amazing boyfriend. Son. Man. And you help me be a better version of myself. Nobody could ever ask for more in a spouse."

Marsh takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. The pressure of his lips on my skin grounds me.

"And if we're married," I say, "then we're family. Legally. And then, I can … " I turn toward Joe, pulling my lips in and dipping my chin.

"Take over," Joe says.

"If that's something we can discuss. I want Harmony Pianos to stay a family business, too."

"My chips are with you, baby." Joe shoots me a wink. A moment of crystal clear clarity sparkles in his eyes as he delivers his knockout smile. "Other Marshall, you are smarter than every other person I talked to about taking over the company."

Marsh pulls me up so we're eye to eye. "Are you sure? You'd want that?"

"Yeah. I'm sure. I have ideas for Harmony. Continue with pianos, of course, but a line of quality furniture to complement the pianos. Benches. Side tables. Chairs. If Aidan Shaw can do it, why not me? "

Ideas swirl in my head for interconnected pieces. Designing. Producing. Working with the team here. I move to the sofa and put my arm around Joe. "And I want to partner with you, Joe." I give a quick wink to Marsh. "This way Harmony stays in the family."

Joe's eyes focus on me, his brain trying to keep up. We're throwing a lot at him, but he wants to understand. I can see it. He nods slowly, and I lean in and wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. When my face lands on his neck, he whispers, "My boychik." A sigh escapes my lips, accompanied by a smidge of a sob, because marrying Marsh means Joe will also be family.

I turn toward Marsh, and he joins us on the couch. "I've always worked for other people. Endlessly running on the hamster wheel, trying to climb the rungs to success. Someone else's ladder. Avoiding anything risky. But now … " I take Marsh's hand, "I'm ready to climb my own ladder."

"I can't wait to walk you both down the aisle." Joe pats both of our hands, his wrinkled, rough skin giving me a feeling of home.

"My mom would love that," I say. "She can hold down the mother of the bride spot in the front."

"For both of us," Marsh says. My heart sings, knowing we'll all be connected.

"Other Marshall working by my side. Harmony is staying in the family." Joe grabs my shoulder and squeezes. "Family."

"And you're sure about … " Marsh asks me, and I'm not sure if he means us getting married, taking over Harmony, or both.

"Yes. I've never been more sure of anything."

I lean over and kiss him softly.

"My boys," Joe says. He opens his arms and does his best to hug both Marsh and me at the same time.

Sitting here with Marsh and Joe, knowing we'll finally be family, not only in our hearts but legally tethered, a peacefulness comes over me. Marshall and Marshall.

I can't wait to start the rest of our lives together.

"The Kaplan-Goldbergs. I like the sound of that," I say.

"Has there ever been a more Jewish name?" Marsh asks with a snort. "Might as well make the hyphen out of gefilte fish."