Page 96 of Mistletoe Misses
“God, I hope so.”
I sling open the door and follow her inside. The hostess doesn’t bother with a greeting as we approach. She waves a hand and leads us to the back room.
“What have you done, fiancé?” Carmen teases, glancing at me over her shoulder before entering.
Before I can marvel at my new title, the small room erupts. “Surprise!” Everyone we cherish rushes to us in waves.
Both moms get to us first and take turns hugging, congratulating, and checking out the ring. Our fathers do the same, and then my siblings.
“It’s about time,” Cooper says, tapping my shoulder on his way to hug Carmen.
“I’m so happy for you.” With her eyes glistening, Kendall pecks my cheek and follows Cooper.
Aaron’s next in the receiving line, but Nana, proudly wearing her pie baking champion medal, elbows him in the ribs and butts in front. “What the heck, Nana?”
“Hush, boy. You’ll have your time in the spotlight when you wise up and listen to your grandmother.” He slinks back, knowing he shouldn’t dare test that statement, and allows her to take her moment with us.
“Go on,” I encourage her. “I know you want to gloat.”
“Nope. There’s plenty of time for that later.” She winks. “I’m so happy to see these beautiful smiles on your faces.” She pats us both on the cheek, reveling in what she thinks is all her handiwork. Then, she waves a hand at Carmen. “Let me see it.”
Reading her intention, Carmen removes her left hand from mine and shows off the ring.
Nana gasps, surprising Carmen as well as herself. She hasn’t seen her first engagement ring since she gave it to me nine years ago. Sorrow coats her cheeks, stealing my breath, my thoughts, and my strength. She doesn’t cry often, and these tears feel different than when she got emotional at my homecoming. It’s lined with ache and a longing for something she’ll never have again.
“It looks perfect on you,” she finally says without taking her eyes off Carmen’s hand resting in hers.
“I’ll take very good care of it,” she tells Nana, her own emotions sparkling on her face, and wraps her in a hug.
“I know you will, sweet girl. Phillip would be so honored to see you wearing it, as am I.” She brings me into their embrace. “I’m proud of you. You did it.”
“Thanks, Nana.” Now, I’m crying. What the hell?
???
We give our family the time they deserve—without their support, we wouldn’t be the people we are today—but not a second more.
“I’m ready to celebrate our way,” I whisper to Carmen after Jamie delivers the last toast, inviting the handful of lingering guests to the bar for another round.
“Music to my ears.”
“Your place or ours?” I ask.
“What do you meanours?”
“I’d planned to show you tomorrow, but I don’t want to wait.” Leaning in, I kiss her until the questions dissolve on her tongue. A few hoots and catcalls echo through the room, but I don’t care. She deserves my best, no matter who’s watching. “Come on.”
We wave to our friends and family on the way out, thank them for coming, and step outside. Holding my hand in the truck, she’s quiet on the ride, and I hope it’s the cold air and tonight’s unexpected events stealing her voice and nothing else.
The last turn takes us into our childhood neighborhood, half a mile outside city limits. Still, she awaits silently, making my veins pulse with anxious jitters.
“Close your eyes,” I say, and she doesn’t protest. She leans her head back and closes her eyes while I park the truck and climb out. “Keep ’em closed.” After helping her down, I position her on the sidewalk. “Okay.”
While she takes in the view of the gray stone house a block from our parents’ houses, tears roll without a sound down her rosy cheeks. “It’s our dream house,” she finally says.
“And now we own a real one.”
When the world got too big as kids, we would walk around the neighborhood and talk about our future together. We’d envision ourselves making a home together—the type of house we’d buy, how we’d make a tradition of cooking and enjoying meals as afamily, and the games we’d teach our children in the spacious backyard.
