Page 71 of Anchored

“I’ve got you. It’s okay. I promise you everything is fine,” he croons into my ear.

I pull back, tilting my head so I can look deeply into his eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for rushing off and not letting you speak. I just saw my past flashing in front of my eyes again and it hurt so much worse this time around.”

Tears flood my eyes, thinking back on that crushing pain of betrayal I’d felt in my car driving to Grandma’s.

“I swear to you, nothing happened,” Holt rushes to say.

I put my finger to his lips to shut him up.

“I know. Macy told me. And if I had longer to think about it, I’d like to think I would have come to that conclusion anyway. I just didn’t think it through. I reacted out of fear. If I’d thought things through, I would have realized you’d never do that to me.” I hitch my mouth to the side, already feeling lighter by just talking to Holt. “Especially not with Macy Bechtol…”

Holt barks out a laugh, still holding me, along with the box of pastries and flowers. Grandma comes up behind me and takes them from his hands. Then she retreats, shushing Harold when he whispers loudly about needing his hearing aid so he knows what’s going on.

“Can you forgive me?” I ask, heart in my throat.

His hands tighten on my waist. “Of course I forgive you, as long as you forgive me for putting myself in a position that made you even think that I was doing something inappropriate.” When I open my mouth to argue, he cuts me off. “I shouldn’t have let her into the cabin. We could have talked on the porch. I should have stopped to put on a shirt. I’ll do better next time.”

Hot tears spill onto my cheeks. I’m clearly in the wrong here, and he’s the one who tries to apologize for the one percent he played in the situation. Holt is not only a good man. He’s the very best man.

“I love you so much,” I manage to say.

Holt’s smile tells me everything is going to be okay. “I love you too, my little moonbeam.”

And then he kisses me. His lips are warm and soft, though the kiss is hard and urgent and oh so hot, it feels like straight-up noon in Anchor Lake. His tongue demands entrance and I give it immediately. My fingers slide into his hair and his arms are like steel bands around me, cradling me into his body. We can’t seem to get enough of each other, and quite frankly, I’m fine standing outside Grandma’s condo all day making out with my boyfriend-slash-fake fiancé.

Except Holt finally slows the kiss and pulls back enough to gaze down into my eyes. “You’re the one and only woman I want to build a life with so that one day we can be old and gray and you can make us do chair yoga and I’ll forget to wear a shirt just to see you blush.”

“You were always shirtless too!” we hear Grandma cry from the doorway of her condo where she and Harold are clearly eavesdropping. “What’s with you men and your hot bodies on display?”

Holt’s earnest expression allows for a slight tilt of the lips. I think we’re still coming to terms with our grandparents dating. It’s adorable. And still slightly weird.

“I want to be the one man you trust implicitly. I know I sank the canoe that one day, but I promise I’ll always keep you afloat. I’ll always choose you. I’ll always encourage you to be yourself. I’ll cheer on your ranting and raving and smile when you’re loud. Let’s grow together and celebrate who we become. Let’s build a life here in Anchor Lake.”

Holt lets go of me and drops to one knee.

I gasp. Suddenly every muscle in my body begins to tremble, which just seems to shake more tears free from my eyes.

Holt’s eyes look shiny too, yet the simple gold diamond-solitaire ring he holds up between us stays steady. “Marry me, Maple. For real this time.”

I drop to my knees and cradle his handsome face. I feel like everything I’ve ever wanted in life is right within my reach, and I’m finally bold enough to say yes to that life. “Yes, please.”

We throw our arms around each other, both of us overwhelmed by this love we’ve found. A cheer goes up behind me, and I stutter out a laugh through my tears. Apparently, we’ve drawn a crowd. We pull back just enough to toss a smile at the nurses and residents huddled on the lawn behind me. Harold and Grandma are filling everyone in on our love story and frequent oohs and aahs fill the morning air.

“I hope my grandma’s ring is okay,” Holt says holding the ring up to my left hand. “I know the diamond’s small, but this ring comes from a happy forty-year marriage.”

“It’s perfect,” I gush, watching it slide onto my left ring finger. It fits like it was made for me. Just like me and Holt.

“Yes, you really are,” Holt answers, touching the ring on my finger and then bringing the back of my hand to his mouth for a kiss.

Gracie’s diary

(55 years ago)

Dear Diary,

Colby took both kids to the Lakeside Diner for pancakes this morning so I could sleep in. I did get some much-needed rest, though I missed the noise in the house the second I woke up. If you’d have told me six years ago that I’d find a good man who loves me exactly the way I need, along with two children and a happy home, I’d have called you crazy.

And yet that’s exactly what I have.

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