Page 118 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
“Another pineapple?” Dinah groaned. She hadn’t had much luck with pineapples.
Oliver gave her an enigmatic smile. “Notanotherpineapple, but Lord Horace’s pineapple.” He led her by the hand to the back of the greenhouse, where Penelope kept a row of citrus trees in pots against the southern wall.
That was when Dinah saw it.
There, amid the orange trees with their cluster of white blossoms was Lord Horace’s lone pineapple, and it was…
She gasped softly. “It isn’t dead.”
“No, sweetheart, it isn’t.” Oliver squeezed her shoulders. “See that bit of green, just at the base there? It’s a new leaf. The plant won’t flower for some time yet, but it’s not dead.”
Dinah leaned closer, staring in wonder at the tiny green bud. “I-I told Penelope it was dead. I wonder she took the time to plant it at all.”
Oliver dropped a kiss on the back of her neck. “I asked her to plant it as a favor to me.”
“Youdid?” Dinah turned to face him, her heart rushing into her throat. “Why, Oliver?”
He was quiet for a while before murmuring, “Sometimes a thing can appear hopeless when really it’s just—”
“Waiting,” Dinah whispered.
“Yes.” He smiled down at her, his eyes warm.
“Until it feels safe.” She caressed the dimple in Oliver’s cheek.
“Until it feels safe.” Oliver opened his arms to her then, and Dinah rushed into his embrace. She pressed her cheek against his chest, listened to his heart beating, and marveled over Christmas larks, joyful blue eyes, and the astounding resilience of hearts, and pineapples.
