Page 88 of Savannah Sweethearts

The crash of waves must have messed with my hearing. “Don’t joke about that, Mr. Daniels.”

His expression changed from a kid in a candy store to one of quiet contemplation. “I’m not joking. Amaya, you have made my life worth waking up every day to see what new pleasures and treasures await me. You have brought me the ability to see beauty in the simple things again and to laugh again. I didn’t realize all I was missing out on.” He swallowed and I watched his Adam’s apple dip. “I love you.”

That was it. That was the declaration. My heart raced, my eyes filled with joyful tears, and I felt like I could take flight at any moment. “I love you, too.”

“Really? That’s such a relief.” He put a hand to his chest.

I covered it with mine. “Really. And, also a relief.”

“Should we get married?”

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “Not today.”

“Not today, no,” he said. “One day. Maybe one day soon.”

“One day.” I stood on my toes and kissed him lightly. “But you love me?”

Once he released my lips, he nodded. “I do. I realized it not too long ago.”

“Same.”

“My mother will be thrilled.”

“So will mine. Linaya, too.”

“Wait till they hear we’re getting married on a porch covered with fish guts.”

“One day.”

“One day.”

Orlando

While we had declared our love and sort of agreed to get married, I thought it might be best to actually ask Amaya. First, though, I wanted to see her parents and ask her father for her hand. It was old-fashioned, but I think most southern families still appreciated the ceremony and gesture of formally asking for a daughter’s hand in marriage.

It just so happened that Linaya’s graduation meant a Journet family celebration and their parents coming to Savannah. The party was held at The Promenade, of course, and I thought that was a good time to pull her parents aside.

Knowing full well it wouldn’t do to steal the limelight away from one sister to put it on the other, I focused my efforts at the party itself on proving what a good catch I was for Amaya. I made a toast, I brought Mrs. Journet coffee, and I danced with Amaya’s grandmother. She was surprisingly good at the Macarena.

But before I had a chance to ask Mr. Journet if we could talk, he approached me. “Mr. Daniels, can we have a word?”

He was shorter than me by a few inches and had the kindest eyes I had ever seen, but I still found myself swallowing a lump in my throat upon hearing those words. I could only nod in agreement. We made our way out to the hallway as guests were leaving and laughing their way outside.

“Yes, sir?” I tried to look nonchalant, but was pretty sure I failed at that.

“Amy May tells me you’ve gotten pretty serious in the last few weeks.” He crossed his arms at his chest.

“Yes. Yes, sir. We have. She’s like nobody I’ve ever met before and I sincerely hope I make her as happy as she makes me.” Try to smile. Don’t look like a creep. Relax, Daniels, relax!

“Amaya has always been an odd mix of free spirit and business-like. Like she’s not entirely sure of who she is. But we’ve noticed a change in her over the past month or so. She’s more driven but also more relaxed. It’s like she’s finally comfortable in her own skin.” He licked his lips before he continued. “I would guess I have you to credit for that?”

“I can’t claim that, but I can say that she has helped me become more comfortable in my own skin. She’s a wonderful woman.” It’s now or never. “I do love her, sir.”

He smiled and clapped me on the back. “I can tell. You’ve bent over backwards today to show it not just to her, but to the entire family. Yai especially appreciates it.”

“Mr. Journet—”

“Call me Emil.”

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