Page 133 of When the Smoke Clears

Andi makes a pancake breakfast, and we eat on the couches in the living room.

“You sure do look festive in those pajamas,” I tell Michael with a wink.

“Now, Maci, I thought we had an understanding. I don’t pick on you, you don’t pick on me.” He winks back.

I throw my head back and laugh.

As usual, I clean up the dishes with Andi. And like another day not too long ago, I lean into her and whisper, “Thank you for letting me come to your family Christmas.”

“I told you before, honey, you don’t need to say thank you. At this point, I’d have a hard time picking Sutton over you.” She kisses me on the cheek before heading back into the living room.

Sutton and I exchanged gifts last night. An agreement we made about doing things privately. I got him a sketch set for all the woodworking designs he’s going to be coming up with, as a starter. But he preferred the album of boudoir photos I put together for him. Taking my own photos was challenging, and it was my first time using a remote shutter.

“This is my favorite,” he told me after looking his fill, and he flipped back to one of me arched over a chaise longue, with my new scar on full display. His finger rested below it on the photo.

He got me a perfectly sized Stetson, as promised a few weeks ago. I may or may not have worn only that for playtime last night.

A few other gifts get passed around now, mainly between the Stricklands and Sammi’s family. Sutton and I watch, standing behind the living room couch. Viviane claps happily every time someone tears paper, and my cheeks ache from my wide smile.

As the gift-giving finishes, Sutton wraps his arms around me. It’s a habit for him to tuck them under mine, so my hands fall over his. I’m surprised to find something occupying his hands this time.

I look down to find a tiny velvet box, navy in color. I dart my eyes up to him.

He speaks softly. “I know we said no gifts today. But I have one more. It’s a small one.”

“What’s that?” Sammi says, noticing our interaction.

“No fair. You always want to one-up me.” My body heats from the center out and my face burns.

He smiles. “Never. You got me two. I owed you one.”

He loosens his arms enough for me to remove the box from his hands and bring it closer to inspect. The case pops loudly when I lift the lid, and the room goes silent, except for my gasp.

A tiny gold band holds a cluster of stones. It’s obviously antique. It catches all the light in the room, reflecting back at me in a beautiful display.

“It was my grandmother’s.”

“Sutton,” I whisper.

He turns me in his arms, so we’re both sideways to the back of the couch, facing each other. Intense gazes bore into us. Andi sniffles.

Sutton drops to one knee. “Maci, you are the part of me I never knew was missing. It doesn’t matter how short a time we’ve known each other. I know you like your coffee sweet and your alcohol strong. I know there’s no stopping you from dancing when Copperhead Road comes on a crowded dance floor, and that you’re just as happy dancing to the crickets singing in an empty pasture. I know how strong you are facing down your demons. How you press this spot right here on your eyebrow when you’re frustrated.” He traces an imaginary line through his brow bone, as if replicating my own.

“But there are still things I don’t know,” he continues. “I don’t know what you’ll look like walking toward me on our wedding day, or how you’ll glow when you’re carrying our child. I don’t know what lullabies you’ll sing to a sleepless baby, or how you’ll dance when they walk for the first time. But I want to. I want to know all of those things and more. I want to walk with you through this life. I don’t care about sickness and health. I’m going to be here to face all of your darkest demons, and to watch you fly when you achieve your biggest dream. I love you. Will you marry me?”

“Oh my God,” Sammi whimpers through tears.

“Yes,” I say, leaning down to kiss him with the box tucked between us. Salty tears slip between our lips, brought on by his beautiful vision of our life together.

He stands, removing the ring from the box, which he tosses playfully. It falls over the couch and tumbles to the living room floor. Viviane picks it up happily. I giggle and Sutton places the ring on my fourth finger.

“Do you think this is clear enough that you’re mine, or should I tattoo my name on your foot?”

I laugh wildly. “No one is tattooing my foot.” I kiss him. “I love you.”

I study the ring and he rubs my back with his hands. “Rainbow Connection.” I lift my eyes.

“What?” His eyebrows dip briefly.

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