Page 28 of Storytime and Sawdust

"That's right. In the community room." I gesture toward the library's east wing. "The kids have been working on book-inspired art all month."

"I wouldn't miss it." Margaret squeezes my arm before departing. "See you both there."

As the children's area empties, Cal and I begin straightening the inevitable disorder left in the wake of excited young readers. We work in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the kind that feels like conversation rather than its absence.

"The summer doors are perfect," I say, shelving a stack of picture books. "You've outdone yourself."

Cal shrugs, but I catch the pleased look in his eyes. "I had good inspiration."

"Oh? And what was that?"

He pauses, considering his words with the care I've come to cherish. "You. The way you see possibilities in everything. The way you make ordinary things magical just by believing they can be."

Even after months together, his rare moments of eloquence still catch me off guard. I cross to where he stands, rising on tiptoe to kiss him properly.

"That might be the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," I murmur against his lips.

His arms encircle my waist, drawing me closer. "I'm getting better at saying what I mean."

"You always were." I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "I just had to learn your language."

We stay that way for a moment, savoring the quiet connection before the next wave of library activity begins. When we separate, Cal's expression has shifted, a new intensity in his gaze.

"Stay here," he says suddenly. "I need to get something from the truck."

"We have to be in the community room in fifteen minutes," I remind him.

"This won't take long." He kisses my forehead and strides toward the exit, leaving me puzzled but intrigued.

I use the time to make final adjustments to the reading nook, plumping cushions and ensuring each fairy door is properly latched. The tree looks particularly magical today, dappled with colored light from thepaper lanterns, its branches creating the perfect balance of openness and sanctuary.

"Perfect spot," Cal says from behind me.

I turn to find him returned, something hidden in his closed fist. "For what?"

"For this." He takes a deep breath, an uncharacteristic nervousness crossing his features. "Molly, when Margaret brought me the library project, I thought I was just building furniture. I had no idea I was building a future."

My heart begins to race as he steps closer.

"You walked into that committee meeting and changed everything," he continues, voice steady despite the emotion I can see in his eyes. "You showed me that my work could be more than craftsmanship. It could be magic. That I could be more than I thought possible."

"Cal," I whisper, tears already threatening.

"I'm still not great with words," he admits with a small smile. "But I'm hoping actions speak clearly enough."

To my astonishment, he kneels before me, right at the base of our reading tree. His large hand opens to reveal a ring unlike any I've ever seen—a slender band of silver with an inlay of rich, polished wood, topped with a tiny open book crafted from the same wood and what looks like mother-of-pearl pages.

"I made this from the same cherry wood as the reading nook," he says, holding it up. "Our story started here, under this tree. I'm hoping it continues for all the chapters to come." He takes another steadying breath. "Molly Harper, will you marry me?"

Joy bubbles up inside me, so overwhelming I can barely speak. "Yes," I manage, tears spilling freely now. "Yes, Cal. A thousand times yes."

His smile breaks across his face like sunrise as he slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, the wood warm against my skin. When he rises to his feet, I throw my arms around his neck, kissing him with all the love overflowing my heart.

"It's beautiful," I say when we finally part, admiring the ring. "I've never seen anything like it."

"One of a kind," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Like you."

A smattering of applause startles us both. We turn to find Diana, several library staff, and a handful of our regular patrons watching from the children's area entrance, all wearing knowing smiles.

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