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They’re in bed on a Thursday two months after the Toussaint heist, Debbie’s fingers rubbing absentmindedly at Lou’s shoulder, when Lou tells her she’s having surgery. That’s how she says it: “I’m having surgery on Tuesday and I need you to be there to drive me home.”
Debbie feels something in her chest tighten, but she trusts Lou and trusts that Lou would tell her if it were major surgery, so Debbie only asks what time the appointment is. Besides, she knows Lou still has her wisdom teeth and there’s something weird with one of her toes, so Debbie will admit she assumes it’s something along those lines.
Lou doesn’t tell any of the girls about the operation, so Debbie, ass over heels and all, follows suit. At the hospital, Lou fills out her paperwork as a Miss Jasmine French, and introduces Debbie as her sister, medical engineer Dr. Ryan Stone.
(Debbie very blatantly rolls her eyes at that; Lou’s always had a thing for throwing Debbie into shoes she can’t fill.)
She watches as they prepare Lou for surgery and is shocked in a queasy sort of way to discover that even the indomitable Lou looks small in a hospital gown. The actual medical doctor asks Debbie to step out of the room, just to make sure Debbie’s clear on what the aftercare of the operation entails.
As it turns out, Debbie should have learned from Claude Becker not to trust criminals, even if they’re gorgeous and cook for her and have tripped Debbie into something a lot like unconditional love. So, sure, she trusts Lou, but apparently she fucking shouldn’t, because apparently Lou has uterine fibroids and is having a goddamn hysterectomy, which, the last time Debbie checked, is kind of a major surgery, and which she much rather would not have discovered Lou was having while already at the fucking hospital. Lou Miller (slash Jasmine fucking French) is going to be the goddamn death of her.
It’s out of character for her, but while she waits for the surgeons to cut parts of Lou away, Debbie thinks about children. She knows Lou has never wanted them, what with her own tortured childhood and all, and it’s not something Debbie’s ever thought about much before. Still, it’s hard not to think about now. Lou’s hysterectomy makes it all feel more real, even though there’s nothing real about it in the first place; if they ever do have kids, like biological children one of them gives birth to, Debbie’s the one getting pregnant.
(On second thought, if they were going to have biological children, they’d need to hurry up and get on with that; they’re not as young as they once were.)
She tries not to think about the removal of possibility. Instead, she squeezes her hands together in her lap, then releases her grip. It starts a pattern that reminds her of a heartbeat, which reminds her of Lou and of Lou’s blood, and she has to stop.
Debbie spends the rest of the time pacing between the chairs bolted to the tile floor in the waiting room.
After the operation, the doctor comes to take Debbie into Lou’s room. Dr. Savelyeva shows Debbie a few pictures and charts that Debbie’s sure Dr. Stone should understand, but that Debbie can’t wrap her mind around, no matter how hard she tries.
The doctor seems to realize that Debbie’s not understanding whatever she’s saying, and Debbie hopes Dr. Savelyeva chalks it up to shock and anxiety or even good old lovesick worry. The doctor gives Debbie a sympathetic smile and switches to a discussion about aftercare, which Debbie is able to follow more easily.
When she finally sees Lou, the woman is just starting to wake up. She’s completely out of it from the anesthesia and pain medication, and Debbie feels like someone’s taken an icepick to her sternum when she sees Lou start to adjust her body and stop herself with a wince.
All the medical staff have cleared out, and Debbie’s grateful she can drop the poorly-played part of Dr. Stone. She drops her body into a chair by Lou’s bed, pulling in closer and taking her girlfriend’s lover’s partner’s hand in her own. Lou looks up at her, dopey with drugs and pain (and love, Debbie wishes).
“Hey, baby,” Debbie says. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a hundred and fifty million bucks.” Lou looks exhausted and somehow emasculated, but even post-surgery in a hospital bed she can still make Debbie laugh.
“You look like a billion,” Debbie tells her, brushing Lou’s hair away from her face with her free hand. Lou scoffs, which makes her wince, and Debbie can’t help the way her eyes crinkle in concern.
“Oh, Lou,” she says, and both of them ignore the softness of her voice, the way it almost breaks. Debbie has to clear her throat, anyway. “I’m glad you’re okay. I love you more than you know.” It’s one of the most honest things Debbie has ever said to her, and Lou hums softly, her eyes sliding closed.
“You know,” she says, a little bit slurred and fighting to open her eyes. “If we aren’t assholes, I’d marry you.” Debbie’s pretty sure she’s the one who needs surgery, now—open heart, obviously.
In the seconds before Lou speaks again, Debbie’s mind flashes to the ring she’s had hidden in a shoebox of Danny’s stuff since the Toussaint heist. It’s made up of a silver band and a dark blue stone that Debbie assumes is a sapphire, though it doesn’t really matter, nestled between two smaller diamonds. The ring probably isn’t anything spectacular in and of itself, besides the fact that it’s made from some of the most expensive and historic (stolen) jewels in existence.
Still, as Debbie watched Amita make the ring, she thought about Lou and her brand of dramatic, and she knew she wanted this ring immediately. She’s not sure whether or not Amita knows she nicked it, but if she does, she hasn’t said anything.
She thinks, too, of the way she has not proposed, of all the times she has not said “I love you,” of the way she left Lou and love and bingo for money and omelettes and Claude Becker, of the moments she’s thought Lou would never say yes, of the way she wants to spend the rest of her life with this woman who is much too good for her. She knows, then, that she at least has to ask. Now is not the time, but she knows. Lou opens her mouth again, and it seems to take a little too much effort for her to form words.
“You fill my heart with hummingbirds and diamonds,” Lou whispers, and then she’s asleep and Debbie’s left reeling. Also crying, though that isn’t anyone’s business.
Lou’s words take her back to almost seventeen years ago. She and Lou hadn’t been working together long, and after what Debbie remembers as their third job, they drove all the way down to Tennessee before they decided to stop. They stayed in a cottage owned by one of Lou’s friends and/or associates and/or exes in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, and the daffodils and the hummingbirds were endless.
There were five hummingbird feeders in the yard, and they refilled them all multiple times during their two-week stay. On their sixth night there, a huge storm hit. It felt different than any storm Debbie’s ever been in—extreme without being anything like a hurricane, somehow. She thinks everything might just hit that heavy in the South. It is tornado country, after all, in the weird way where it isn't quite that, and Debbie’s known Tammy long enough to learn that southerners take shit seriously; she wouldn’t be surprised if “go big or go home” applied even to the weather.
After the storm, the daffodils were wrecked. It reminded her of broken eggs, and while she’s confident they grew back just as beautiful the next year, the yard was a mess of fireflies flitting through torn stems for the rest of their stay. The hummingbirds, however, returned like nothing had happened. One morning, while Lou thought she was still in bed, Debbie watched her fill the hummingbird feeders and cry.
(Sometimes, when Debbie closes her eyes, her brain, unprompted, supplies her with an image of Lou, stirring boiling sugar water over the stove and wearing a black and gray pinstripe button down over a set of red lace lingerie with all her jewelry still on the dresser in the bedroom. If Debbie were a more emotionally intune person, she’d say that’s the moment she fell in love with Lou Miller.)
Debbie hadn’t even been close to thirty, then, and she hadn’t thought much of anything about the future. She’d focused almost entirely on the present, on the jobs and Lou and trying not to say “I love you” during sex.
God, if Debbie could go back and beat the shit out of her past self, she would. If she’d known that Lou felt for her even something close to the way Debbie’s felt since the moment they met (though, to be fair, she sure as shit didn’t realize for a little while), their lives might have turned out a lot differently, which is to say Debbie probably would never have ended up in jail.
On the other hand, she’s not sure she’d change anything, if just for the way her entire heart exploded all the way out of her chest the moment she saw Lou again after five years, eight months, and twelve days (plus change).
The simple fact of it all is that Debbie needs to marry this woman, this woman who is so much of the reason they pulled off the heist, this woman who’ll drive halfway across the country on a whim, this woman whom Debbie loves more than she’s ever known she could.
Debbie doesn’t leave the hospital the entire time Lou’s there. She doesn’t answer texts about where she is, but does answer one from Tammy that reads, Are you two alright? When she says that they are, Tammy tells her that she’s glad and does not text her again for the duration of the hospital stay; they really do not deserve Tammy, who knows them better than she even realizes.
Debbie spends the time in the hospital waking up with a sore neck and watching bad game shows and cleaning a trail of blood from Lou’s thigh. When they finally get back to the loft, Debbie has to half-carry Lou inside. Constance is sitting on the couch when they get through the door. She springs up when she sees them, looking somewhere between confused, exasperated, and worried.
“Where the hell you guys been?” she asks, and Debbie can only roll her eyes. Lou attempts to shrug, though it doesn’t work all too well when Debbie’s still supporting the majority of her body weight after Lou refused a wheelchair so adamantly that the hospital staff gave up. Debbie knows Lou well enough to see that she wasn’t expecting anyone to see her like this, at least not before she had a chance to change clothes and sleep in her own bed.
“Hospital,” Debbies says, eyes sharp and warning as she moves past Constance toward Lou’s room. The trip from the door to the bedroom has never felt as long as it does now, but Constance doesn’t comment, and Debbie hears the front door open and close a moment later. Beside her, Debbie feels the tension almost entirely leave Lou’s body, and she’s supporting Lou even more than she was before.
Debbie helps Lou out of her shoes. She helps her into fresh clothes. She helps her into their bed. It’s the realization that Lou is allowing Debbie to see her this way—this hurt and, fundamentally, helpless—that forces Debbie to admit, at least to herself, that she has never loved anything as strongly as she loves Lou Miller.
It pains her to see Lou this way, but she is still so beautiful, and, after years of waiting, they are finally together.
They spend the majority of the month of Lou’s recovery in bed. Despite Lou’s pain, despite the shame that comes with her weakness, despite her nausea, Debbie spends as much time as she can showing Lou how beautiful she’s always been. They watch all seven season of The Golden Girls on Debbie’s phone, propped against her thighs. Debbie’s never really gotten into the show, but, though she’ll never admit it, it’s Lou’s favorite.
Lou doesn’t allow Debbie to tell the other women about the operation until she’s already been back three days, and even then it’s only because she sees how worried they’ve been. The relief Debbie feels from the other six after she tells them that Lou isn’t hurt, isn’t dying, and wasn’t in any real danger is tangible.
The next day, Tammy, in true southern fashion, returns with at least a week’s worth of food that she loads into the refrigerator with Amita’s help. Debbie can’t help but laugh when she sees, and she pulls Tammy into a tight hug with a smile still on her face. Debbie retreats back to the bedroom with a few of the others still lounging around the loft.
“Tammy brought enough food to feed all of Suburbia,” Debbie says, shutting the door behind her. Lou, propped up in bed, laughs, wincing at the pain it brings her. Debbie feels her own face pull into a sympathetic grimace, and Lou waves her away.
“Of course she did,” Lou says. “I was half expecting her to pack up and move back in for the whole month.” Debbie slides into the bed beside her.
“How are you feeling, baby?” she asks, smoothing her hand over Lou’s hair. Lou manages the emotion of a shrug without moving her body whatsoever.
“As well as can be expected, I suppose. I’ve heard removing a part of your body is usually a little painful.” Debbie groans in fake annoyance, settling against the pillows. Lou sighs.
“I hate feeling like…” she trails off, but Debbie gets it anyway.
“I know you do, but you’re the strongest person I know, and nothing is going to change that.” Lou rolls her eyes in an attempt to brush away the praise.
“I have always been told I have the figure of a bodybuilder.” Debbie swats at her as gently as she can.
“Shut it, you. I’m allowed to think you’re wonderful.” Lou’s quiet for a moment, watching the blank wall next to the door.
“Thank you, Deb,” she says after a moment, soft. “For everything.” Debbie’s eyes go so soft they might melt out of her head, and she leans over to plant a kiss on Lou’s forehead.
It takes about five weeks for Lou to feel more or less back to normal. As soon as they fall back into their regular routine, Debbie starts spending more and more time thinking about a proposal. She already has a ring, so that’s step one taken care of, but she wants to do something that Lou will love, which means she can’t do anything too insane.
For as dramatic as Lou is, she isn’t one for huge gestures, especially when they draw a lot of attention. Which, okay, Debbie supposes that makes sense, considering Lou’s a criminal and all, and drawing attention to themselves is objectively not great. Still, it leaves Debbie anxious and blanking on ideas.
One evening, Debbie’s in the kitchen with Tammy, helping her prepare dinner for everyone. Tammy’s stirring something on the stove and her back is to Debbie, who finds herself absentmindedly fiddling with an empty garlic press.
“Hey, Tam?” she asks.
“Hmm?” Tammy doesn’t turn toward her and moves to another pot on the stovetop.
“How did your husband propose?” Debbie watches as Tammy completely stops moving. She sets the spoon she was using down on the counter and slowly turns toward Debbie, an unreadable expression on her face.
“He got down on one knee in front of my entire family at a barbecue. Left absolutely no room for me to say no without embarrassing the both of us, but it was sweet, I guess,” Tammy says, a bit more slowly than she usually talks. “Are you asking for a reason?” She raises an eyebrow, and it’s clear that she already knows the answer. Debbie’s never really asked about Tammy’s husband before, and that’s not the kind of question she’d use to start the conversation.
Debbie shrugs, still clutching the garlic press. She’s not used to feeling nervous about her ideas, and she’s not all that used to feeling insecure. Still, Lou has always been a bit of an exception for her, and it’s nerve wracking to tell someone—even Tammy—how much the woman means to her.
“I just want to do something Lou will like. Something that she’d say yes to,” she admits with Tammy still watching her. Tammy’s quiet for a moment, and Debbie can see something in her eyes click.
“Oh, honey,” Tammy says, moving away from the stove to sit at the table next to Debbie. “Deborah, you sweet, stupid criminal. She’ll love anything you do, because she loves you.” Tammy pauses and checks over her shoulder to make sure no one is near the kitchen. “Do you have a ring?” she asks, and there’s an excited glint that shines through her schooled calm facade. Debbie nods. Tammy squeals—literally squeals—then immediately slams a hand to her mouth in a futile attempt to stop the sound after it happened.
“Keep it together, Tim-Tam,” Debbie says, shaking her head but unable to keep a smile off her face. Tammy, full on grinning now, waves her away, getting up from her seat to tend to the food on the stove.
“Oh, shut it, Deborah. You can’t tell me something like that and expect me not to react.” They’re quiet for a moment as Debbie watches Tammy take a pot of pasta off the stove and drain it in the sink.
“If you need help with anything,” Tammy says once the pasta’s in a strainer, “you know I’m here. I’m happy for you.” Debbie rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling.
In the end, while Debbie does run the whole proposal by Tammy, the only thing she asks her to do is to keep the others away. To be honest, there’s not all that much to run by Tammy; Debbie doesn’t have much of a plan, and even though she’s completed countless cons without a second thought, she’s more than a little worried she’ll chicken out.
She cooks dinner for Lou. This in and of itself should tip Lou off that’s something’s up, since Debbie doesn’t really cook. It’s not that she can’t (except she kind of can’t), it’s just that she doesn’t. So when Lou finds Debbie in the kitchen about ten minutes away from a fairly successful dinner, she raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment.
After dinner, Debbie suggests they take a walk. It’s casual and in character enough that Lou doesn’t seem to question her motive, and it’s still light enough outside that it’s a normal activity to do. When Debbie slips on her long coat, she triple checks the pocket for the ring.
They walk along the rocks near Lou’s loft, Debbie stumbling in her heeled boots and Lou doing absolutely fine in her own. Lou laughs as Debbie slips again, yelping and grabbing for her arm. Lou steps down toward the water from the rocks, stopping to look at the still setting sun. Debbie feels like she might pass out. Or vomit. Maybe both.
“Do you want me to take your picture with the sky?” Debbie asks, barely containing a wince at how very not casual it sounds. Lou, however, seems captivated by the colors (as she always is) and merely nods, turning to face Debbie.
“No, turn around. It’ll look better,” Debbie tells her, reaching into her pocket for her phone.
“Are you saying my face will ruin the picture?” Lou asks her as she turns away. Debbie laughs.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. One sec, my phone’s being difficult,” she says as she snaps a picture and slips her phone back into her pocket, pulling the ring out.
“Almost got it. Sorry.” Debbie lowers herself onto her knee—shit, she really should have worn different shoes—and tries to ignore the sound of her own heart beating.
“Okay,” she says. “Done.” Lou turns around and Debbie sees the way her shoulders tense and hands flit against her sides, like she has to stop herself from moving, from giving herself away.
“Deborah Ocean, is this a proposal?” Lou asks, cocky grin in place, though Debbie can hear the way her voice wavers.
“I got a ring, baby,” Debbie says and somehow manages not to choke. Lou laughs, a little watery.
“Well,” Lou says, “are you going to ask me?” Lou stands, against the darkening sky, with her hands on her hips, and Debbie thinks that she’ll probably have to jump in the river if she says no.
“Louise Miller,” she starts, still on her knee, “you are my partner in everything I do. You have been the only thing I can trust for almost two decades, and you have been the only one I have ever trusted enough to love you as much as I do.” The whole thing is cheesy and a bit clunky, but as Debbie speaks, Lou starts to cry. Debbie doesn’t notice at first in the dimming light, but soon Lou brings her hand up to wipe away the tears under her eyes. Debbie has to swallow a few times before she can continue, and she hears Lou take a shuddering breath.
“I know I’ve done a lot of illegal things, but I want you to be my partner under the eyes of the law. I want you to be my witness in everything I do. Lou, will you do the honor of becoming my wife?” Debbie asks, tears collecting in her own eyes. Lou nods rather emphatically, and Debbie’s heart swells at the out of character eagerness. Lou’s still crying, and she hasn’t moved to take the ring, and Debbie’s knees are starting to hurt.
“Can I get up now?” Debbie asks. Lou lets out a sound that’s about half laugh and half sob, and crosses the distance to Debbie, pulling the woman up onto her feet and taking her jaw in her hands. Lou kisses her like she hasn’t kissed her since before Debbie went to prison. Debbie’s not exactly willing to admit it, but she’s about a milimeter away from swooning.
Debbie pulls away, gasping like a teenager and smiling like the lovesick fool she is. “This is a yes?” she breathes. Lou laughs, and Debbie moves her hands—one still holding the ring—up to cup Lou’s face and wipe the tears from her cheeks.
“Give me the fucking ring, Deb,” Lou grins. Debbie pulls back enough to slide the ring onto Lou’s finger. Lou starts to cry again, and Debbie pulls her into her arms. This is only the fifth time she’s ever seen Lou cry, and only the second when Lou knew she was watching.
The two of them stand on the bank of the river, wrapped in each other’s arms, for almost ten minutes before moving. They walk back up to the loft, hand in hand, with Debbie still tripping over stones and Lou still laughing at her.
“Maybe tomorrow we can go out and find a ring for me,” Debbie says. “If that’s something you want to do.” She glances over to Lou (her fianceé) to see her smiling softly.
“There’s no need, darling.” Debbie stops in her tracks and Lou takes the last few steps to unlock the front door. “I’ve had one since Boston,” Lou says, turning the knob and pushing the door open, leaving Debbie standing in the late August night, mouth agape.
“Shit, Lou,” she finally says, stepping into the loft and shutting the door behind her. Lou’s leaning against the table looking a little sad, a normal amount cocky, and a lot lovestruck. “You wanted to marry me seven years ago?” Debbie asks, incredulous. Lou shrugs.
“Sure I did. You’re quite the catch, Ocean.” Lou’s smiling, but Debbie feels like shit. She shakes her head.
“No, I— You wanted to marry me, and then I left,” she whispers. Lou shrugs again.
“Deb, it’s fine,” she says, stepping into Debbie’s space. “We’ve gone over this. I forgave you years ago, and we’re getting married now.” Debbie shakes her head again, but allows Lou to pull her closer.
“I’m so sorry,” she says as Lou rubs her hands over her back. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I love you so much.”
“I know,” Lou says. “Please believe that I know.”
The next morning, Debbie wakes up before Lou. The ring that Lou pulled from a drawer is on the bedside table, and Debbie slips it onto her finger before she puts on any clothes. She has a text from Tammy that says only, Verdict? She sends back a string of obnoxious emojis and then a real text thanking Tammy for her help and support.
When Debbie’s in the bathroom a few minutes later, Tammy calls her. She picks up the phone and holds it to her ear, continuing to apply mascara with her other hand.
“I’m so happy for you,” Tammy says, and it sounds a little like she’s been crying.
“Jesus, Tam, have you been crying?” Debbie asks.
“Of course I was. What the hell were you expecting, Debbie?” Debbie laughs, shaking her head as Tammy continues to speak.
“I did want to let you know that, while I didn’t tell the girls what was happening, there’s no way I can keep them away from Lou’s place today. I swear, they think you’re their moms or something. Also, I think Nine might have completely figured out what you were doing.”
“It’s fine,” Debbie says. “Are you in the city today? Or can you be? We haven’t all had dinner in a while.”
“Sure, I can be. What time do you want to do?”
“Seven?” Debbie asks.
“That sounds good. I’ll text the others.” Tammy pauses. “I really am so happy for both of you, Debbie, and I’m proud of you. I’ll see you tonight.” Tammy hangs up the phone before Debbie can berate her for the sappiness, and Debbie continues with her makeup.
She and Lou spend the day basking in the fact that they’re engaged, and they order Indian food that evening a few minutes before everyone starts to arrive. Even Daphne’s here this time, and even though Debbie knows she’s about to have to deal with about a thousand questions, she’s glad to see them.
Amita notices Debbie’s ring before anyone else notices either, which makes sense because she’s a jeweler and because Debbie never wears jewelry. Debbie watches as Amita’s eyes widen and flit over toward Lou, zeroing in on her hand.
“Oh my god,” Amita yells, causing Rose to drop her bag. Much to Debbie’s embarrassment, they make her tell the story three times before the night is over. Rose is delighted to have a wedding dress to make, and though Tammy spends the night laughing at her, Debbie knows that she’s already gone and planned out an entire wedding in her head. It’s a bit much, but Debbie can’t be too mad, not with Lou pressed against her side and her home filled with the best friends she’s ever known.