Page 34 of Of Literature and Lattes
“Stop. I’m blushing,” Luke quipped.
The brothers sat quietly for a moment—both lost in the past, remembering the good and the bad.
“You’ve been a good brother.” Chris spoke softly.
“That won’t end with your marriage. I’m here, always will be.” Luke nudged him. “It’s quick, though.” Luke used the contraction on purpose. He hoped it made him sound more casual, less authoritative. After all, it was an observation and not a criticism.
“It is, but I’m sure. I want... I want everything for Madeline. To be that shoulder she needs to cry on, to support her as she reaches for whatever she wants to reach for. I want to come home to her and download my day, and share everything, and listen as she does the same. She’s the best part of my day, the part I strive to get to and do my best for, so that when I’m there, when I get to see her, be with her and hold her, I know the very best of me has come to that moment.”
Chris ran his hands through his short hair. In the time since he’d left the military, he’d only let it grow barely past the width of his fingers. “It sounds ridiculous, and I’ve been cycling through it over and over, because it is fast; I know that. But I’ve been through a lot and I’m still healing, and in so many ways she is too, and we’re healing together and I don’t want to wait any longer.” He faced his brother. “I love her... Does any of that make sense?”
Luke leaned back and smiled. “When will you ask her?”
“You’re good with this?”
“I am. I agree with everything you said, and she radiates the same light. Look, if I thought you two were riding some fevered wave of emotion, I’d caution you. But that’s not what I see.” Luke sat straight and grabbed his brother into a hug. “My little brother’s getting married.”
“Not so fast. I haven’t asked her yet.”
“As if she’ll say no.” Luke pushed him back, but still held him by the shoulders. “What did Essie say?”
“How’d you know I’ve talked to Essie?”
“Please. Our sister’s been collecting proposal ideas since third grade. No Jumbotron, no restaurants, yes sunsets, yes gardens, no trips, yada, yada, yada... Of course you’ve called her, and it’s probably all scripted for you.”
“She rattled off at least twenty ideas, but I have no clue yet.”
“Take your time. The moment will present itself.”
“You speak from experience?”
“Ah, you laugh, little brother, but I’ve ushered over a thousand couples through premarital counseling and counseled twice that many married couples in my twenty years. I could teach you a lot about a good and satisfying marriage.”
“I’m not listening.” Chris pressed his hands over his ears. “Not listening. Can’t hear you.”
“Grow up.” Luke slugged him in the arm. “I’m not counseling you. No way.”
“But you’ll be part of the ceremony?”
“In any capacity you both wish.” Luke pushed up. “And this is where we part. I have to get over to the hospital for rounds this afternoon and need to eat a piece of cake before I go. Wedding cake, mind you. I’ll be thinking of you.”
“Care to share?”
“It’s coconut cream.”
“How did you swing that?” Chris raised his hands. “I get it. Brotherly love only goes so far.”
Luke nodded. “You know it. Are you working today?”
Chris stood, stretched, and followed a step behind his brother down the path. “I ended a double early this morning. I’m off for a couple days... Hey, you’ll never believe who I met last week.”
Luke turned and raised a brow.
“Alyssa Harrison. I helped get her car to Jasper’s, then Madeline met her a few days ago at the bookshop. She’s staying with Janet for a while. You should probably call her.”
“Hovering is never good.” Luke gripped his brother’s shoulder. This time there was nothing patronizing or paternal in the motion. It was simply good to have Chris near. “Janet will reach out if she needs me. I’m glad to hear her daughter’s back, though.”
Chris left his brother at the rectory door and headed east toward the bookshop. On his way he approached Winsome Jewelers and stalled. He would need to stop in there soon. It was local, and he believed he should support local businesses—especially the bookshop—but the minute he stepped within the jewelry store’s door, everyone would know. Winsome’s small-town warmth would “heat up” after that.
