Page 127 of Just Come Over
Rhys had taken her out last night, had kissed her in the car, and had made love to her so slowly and with so much tender attention that her body had hummed all night long. But he hadn’t said anything more, hadn’t made any declarations or suggested any plans, and as she watched Will slot the kick between the posts, converting the try, she admitted that she was wondering why not.
She’d said, at first, that they should wait, but now, she couldn’t bear to wait anymore. She knew how much she’d needed to see him come through that door, and she needed to know he always would.
She and Isaiah hadn’t moved out of his house again, but they hadn’t exactly moved in, either. And, yes, she knew that she could bring the subject up herself. It wasn’t as if Rhys hadn’t asked her to marry him. Three times. It also wasn’t as if she hadn’t answered, because she had.
It was just that—maybe she didn’t want it to be a logistical discussion, a rational talk. She’d told him she didn’t need the big gesture, and she’d meant it. At the time. How did you take that back?
Tomorrow, she decided, she’d say something. The Blues had a bye, which gave them the time to do it. They’d take a... a walk, or something. With the kids, but there’d be some period in there where the kids would run ahead, and she could say something. Bring it up.
Somehow.
Seventy-five minutes gone, and the Blues up by ten and still holding the ball, which meant she didn’t have to watch that closely. Her toes were cold, and she curled them under in her boots and thought about possible openings.
So, about that thing you said. About us getting married.Or maybe,Did you want to wait a while for the marriage bit? Or should we do it now?Pity they both sounded like you were discussing replacing the washing machine.
Maybe she should ask him out to dinner herself and offer him a wedding band across the table. She had to laugh at that one.
“What’s funny?” Isaiah asked.
“Nothing. Just a silly thought.”
Isaiah said, “Oh,” and fidgeted. He hadn’t paid much attention tonight. Could he be feeling off-balance again? They’d talked about staying at Rhys’s house before they’d done it, though, and she’d taken care that she did her early-morning flower-market runs alone with him, when Rhys was home, to give him his Mum time.
She’d talk to him tomorrow anyway. Get him to help her fold the washing, maybe, and have the discussion.
Seventy-nine minutes and thirty seconds, then, finally, eighty minutes. Will kicked the ball into touch, and the game was over. A win. She was standing, clapping with the others, her heart lifting, as always, when she saw Rhys on the field, shaking hands with the Stormers’ head coach, having a word, then congratulating his players, his intense expression not giving much away. The same man after a win as after a loss. A good man, and a solid one. Her man.
People were standing, shuffling out of their rows, when the music suddenly swelled over the loudspeaker, a fanfare of trumpets, startling everybody, or at least her. The torches at the sides of the field belched out gouts of flame, and the scoreboard, which had been displaying the score, changed. A blue-and-gold dragon appeared on the screen, its tongue out, roaring. Or maybe that was a taniwha, the Maori version of the dragon. A new team symbol?
The departing crowd paused, people looking around, looking confused.
Words on the scoreboard now, and Isaiah beside her, bouncing up and down in his seat, pulling on her arm, saying, “Mum.Mum.It’s you. He really did it. Hedidit.”
I love you, Zora Fletcher,the scoreboard flashed in huge letters.Will you marry me?
The players weren’t moving off. They’d come to stand behind Rhys, and they were clapping. Isaiah was pulling on her arm some more, saying, “Come on, Mum. You too, Casey. We have to go down there.”
Rhys, in his blue suit, standing strong, looking up into the stands. Looking straight at her. Her hand was on her chest, and she was laughing, and then, as Isaiah continued to pull on her arm, going down the stairs to the field. Rhys was there, was lifting her over the barrier, setting her on her feet, then reaching for the kids.
Isaiah was practically jumping up and down. Casey was saying, “What’s happening? What did it say?”
“He’s doing a proposal,” Isaiah told her. “Like to get married. It’s a surprise. He’s been planning it all week long.”
Zora was wearing the following: Black leggings, a puffy jacket, not-very-stylish boots, a woolly cap, and a Blues scarf. She hadn’t spent twenty minutes on her face, either. She hadn’t spentfive.Her mum would watch the footage of this and be mortified, and she didn’t care. She was laughing, and Rhys’s face had lost all its hardness. His jaw was black with scruff, the latest scar on his cheekbone still showing pink where he’d been stitched up after the plane, but there was nothing but tenderness on his face as he pulled the box out of his pocket.
She said,“Rhys,”then tried to think of something else to say. “I don’t... I said I didn’t need a... big thing.”
“I heard you, baby,” he said, “and I thought maybe you did. Maybe you needed to know you’re special. Maybe you needed to hear that you’re my light and my life. Taku toi kahurangi. My precious jewel. Maybe I need to say the words the right way, give you something to remember.”
He knelt down, and she put a hand over her eyes, because she was going to cry, and then took it away again, because she needed to see him.
“I love you, Zora Fletcher,” he said. “Will you marry me?”
She’d have said she didn’t need much of a ring. She needed this one. An intricately carved Art Deco design, paved with diamonds on either side of the frankly enormous solitaire. It made her heart happy, and if he’d looked at every ring in the world, he couldn’t have chosen anything more perfect.
“Yes,” she said, because she couldn’t manage anything more. Her mouth was trembling, and she was crying in front of other people. She thought he might be, too, a little. He slid the ring onto her finger, then lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, not one bit embarrassed to do it in public.
Around them, the crowd was cheering, clapping, and so were the players. She didn’t care about that. She was pulling Rhys to his feet, throwing herself into his arms, and laughing.
