Page 26 of Be-Leaf in Love

“Violet, will you marry me, and make me the happiest man alive?”

She’s already nodding, tears filling her eyes, and she leans down to kiss me before I can even slip the ring onto her finger. “Yes,” she finally sputters. “Yes. I can’t believe it.”

I slide back into my seat, then slip an arm around her. “Believe it, baby.”

She holds out her hand to admire the ring, which looks darker in the dim light of the restaurant. “Wait until you see it in the sun. It sparkles like crazy,” I chuckle.

She looks up at me with a twinkle in her eye. “What was in the other box?”

I shrug, reaching for my wine. “Guess you’ll never know.”

It was a set of keys for my house, and a business card for the dealership where we’ll be buying her a car next week. I realized that once she moves in, we won’t always have the same schedule, so it will be easier for her to be able to drive herself to work when she needs to.

She’ll weasel it out of me by the time the pasta arrives, I’m sure.

But until then, I’m just going to tease my sweet flower girl like the nasty, uptight, corporate CEO that I used to be but no longer am.

EPILOGUE

VIOLET

* Three Years Later *

I’ve always loved planting things in the ground. Indoor gardening. Making flower arrangements.

I look out across our beautiful back garden. It’s far from perfect. Certainly not polished enough for a corporate setting. It’s more like a series of experiments that might take years to truly take hold.

I tiptoe out across the grass to the herb garden in the back, carrying a small wicker basket. The fragrant peppermint and spearmint oil gets on my fingertips when I pluck around thirty leaves.

I turn back to the patio to see Jack there, watching me and smiling. He’s almost always smiling when I’m around. So different from the slightly grumpy corporate loner he used to be.

As I approach, his smile drops. “I smell mint. I thought your morning sickness was over?”

“I’m fine. I just feel like having some peppermint tea for flavor today, not medicine.”

His sighs dramatically, clutching his heart. “Thank goodness. I really wanted to have lasagna tonight.”

A month ago, we had joked that even though I suffered with my body changing, the morning sickness and the restless nights, in fact it was Jack who had made the largest sacrifice since I couldn’t eat anything with tomato sauce for almost two months, and that messed up his dinner plans.

He’s been an angel through my pregnancy – always keeping me laughing, making sure I’m off my feet as much as possible, and constantly feeding me…even if it’s only crackers, ginger ale, and a multivitamin.

“Where are your shoes?” he asks.

“The grass feels nice between my toes. Besides, don’t all men want a woman who’s married, pregnant, and barefoot in the garden picking herbs for tea?” I laugh. “What century are we in, again?”

Jack wraps his thick arms around me for a big, squishy hug. “The one with us in it. Which is obviously the only place in the entire space-time continuum that matters.”

He takes the basket from me and heads for the kitchen. He’s already learned how to make perfect peppermint tea. I stretch out on the chaise lounge in the shade, with just my feet in the warmth of the sun.

Staring out at the garden, I love how parts of it are a bit overgrown. A bit wild.

Kind of like us. I had no idea that moving in together and then getting married would create such a different energy. Like taking an indoor potted plant and putting it out in the garden. It’s not just that its roots have more room to grow and stretch. There’s so much more daylight. The rain is purer than tap water. There’s always a fresh breeze.

With Jack at my side, I’ve become more confident. There were seventy people at our wedding, and even though mychampagne flute had been quivering in my hand, I made a heartfelt toast without falling to pieces.

When Jack comes out with my tea, I’m laughing to myself. “What is it?” he asks.

“I’m just realizing that I think in plant analogies far too often.”

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