by Noelle Adams
THE NEXT WEEK WASN’T all that great. Ruth was slammed with work since she’d taken on too many jobs all at once and felt guilty about delaying any of them. She also made a point of spending more time with Kayla, which took up nearly all her free time. Carter was really busy with work too, so the only time she saw him was a lunch they had on Wednesday.
The fun she’d had with Carter the previous weekend was starting to feel like a dream. Pleasant but blurred around the edges. Not reflecting reality. Gradually slipping through her fingers.
So Ruth wasn’t sure what to expect from the Saturday evening date they’d planned, during which she knew Carter would propose to her. He still wouldn’t tell her how he was planning to do it, which for some reason was driving her crazy.
Enough about her life was out of her control. She didn’t need to feel out of control in this plot with Carter as well.
They were going to Milhouse, the bar where Lincoln worked. It made sense if Carter wanted to do a big, showy production of the proposal to have it in a familiar place where a lot of people he knew tended to hang out on weekends. The first thing Ruth noticed on entering the bar was a big Christmas tree set up near the upright piano that was hardly ever used. They’d also hung garland and twinkly lights.
“Wow,” she said. “Is it time for Christmas decorations already?” It was the weekend before Thanksgiving. Definitely in the season for stores to bring out their Christmas stuff, but she didn’t remember Milhouse putting up the holiday decor until December in previous years.
Carter blinked as he looked around, like he was just noticing. “Oh. Yeah. Lincoln was complaining the other day about them doing it so early. Who knows? Oh look, Meg and Gary are about to leave. Why don’t you grab their table, and I’ll get us something to drink?”
“Okay.” Ruth went over to the couple Carter pointed toward—he seemed to know almost everyone in Green Valley—and waited politely for them to vacate their table. They obviously knew she was waiting since the man held out a chair for her and the woman giggled something about how she hoped Ruth would have a good evening.
Carter came over shortly with a glass of merlot for Ruth and a scotch for himself.
“Well?” Ruth said, when he took his seat across the small table from her.
“Well what?”
“Is something going to happen?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I’ve got it under control.”
“Really? Because it’s making me kind of jittery to wait and not know what’s going to happen. You can get on with it any time.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’ll get on with it at the appropriate time. Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of bossy?”
“Yes. I’ve been called bossy all my life. But that’s just because people are intimidated by the fact that I can make things happen and they can’t.”
He laughed at that, as she’d expected. “I can make plenty of things happen.”
“Really? Because I haven’t seen any sign of it tonight. You’re not going to chicken out, are you?”
“No,” he gritted between clenched teeth. “I’m not going to chicken out.”
“Because I know for someone as buttoned-up as you, it won’t be easy to be big and dramatic.” She was teasing him on purpose because she liked how he responded. He acted all annoyed and indignant when she could see him laughing on the inside.
“I can be just as big and dramatic as anyone else. Just wait.”
“I’ve been waiting for a while now.”
“You’ve been waiting for exactly five minutes. Try a little patience.”
“I’m not exactly a fan of patience.”
He laughed, his eyes resting on her face with a warm softness that felt like a caress.
She couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at her like that before. Either he was a really good actor or he was genuinely having a good time with her.
She hoped he was.
She fidgeted as she sipped her wine, irrationally nervous about the coming proposal. That was silly. There was nothing to be anxious about. She knew Carter was going to propose, and she knew she was going to say yes. She knew the engagement would last until after Christmas, which as the decorations surrounding them proved, wasn’t all that far away. And she knew that after that they’d break up amicably and go on with their lives.
She knew all that. She and Carter had it planned. There was nothing unknown there, except the exact way Carter was going to propose. And that... well, that didn’t really matter. She didn’t need to be nervous.
But she was. She drank her wine for fortification and waited.
Five minutes later, she glanced over to the entrance and saw a familiar face. “Oh look. Savannah.”
Savannah was a clever, attractive woman in her early thirties and the reason that Carter and Ruth had been set up to begin with. She saw Ruth waving and gave her a big smile, dragging her husband over to say hello.
Carter stood up to greet Lance Carlyle, who Ruth knew had been his friend since elementary school. Ruth had never met Lance before although she’d seen him around. He was very good-looking in his fitted black T-shirt and tailored trousers, but not in a classically handsome way like Carter. He had freckles that blended into his tan and thick, curly hair that was always flopping over his forehead. He had a really nice smile though, and he aimed it now at Ruth as they said hello to each other.
“Am I brilliant or what?” Savannah demanded. “I knew you two would hit it off.”
“You were right. I’m not sure how it happened, but you were right.” Carter leaned over to kiss her cheek in a friendly way.
“Seriously, thank you for introducing us,” Ruth said, wondering what it would be like to have a circle of friends like Carter. One that went back years. Decades. She had friends of course, but most of them lived in Charlotte. She had no one in her life that went so far back. And Carter seemed to have dozens.
“You’re welcome.” Savannah was smiling like she knew some sort of juicy secret. “And now I have perpetual bragging rights, so I figure all of us are winners.” She was carrying a red sweater draped over her arm, and she adjusted it.
The motion caught Ruth’s attention. “Is it getting cold out there?” she asked. “It’s been way too hot for November this week.”
“No. It’s not really cold yet.” Savannah opened her mouth again, like she was going to explain why she was carrying a thick red sweater. Then she closed it again.
“Let’s grab a table,” Lance said to his wife. “Ruth, it was nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around more soon.”
“Thanks. You too.” Ruth watched as they walked across the room to sit down at another empty table. For some reason she noticed that Savannah handed Lance the red sweater.
Carter cleared his throat. “Okay.”
Ruth straightened up, her throat tightening. “Ooh, is it time?”
He gave her that narrow-eyed look that was becoming quite familiar now.
“Were you waiting for Lance and Savannah? Is that it?” Ruth leaned over the table excitedly. “Tell me what’s going to happen.”
“I’m not going to tell you.” He cleared his throat again and shifted in his chair.
“Oh my God,” Ruth breathed. “You’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” he muttered in what was an obvious lie. “I’m mentally preparing.”
“You don’t need to prepare. Whatever you’ve got planned is going to be great. I know it will. And at least you don’t have to be scared about what my answer will be.”
“Well, there’s that.” Carter shook his head, staring down at his mostly empty scotch glass. “I don’t know how people do this for real and not get paralyzed with fright.”
Ruth laughed and reached over to squeeze his hand. “I think that’s probably why most people do it in private. Not quite so much pressure to perform.”
“Speaking of perform...” He stood up. Reached for his glass and swallowed down the last of the liquor. Then he took a
deep breath. “I’ll be right back.”
Ruth tried to act casual, but she was literally perched on the edge of her seat. She kept her fingers wrapped around the stem of her wineglass in an attempt to act cool and nonchalant.
But the truth was she wasn’t a nonchalant person. Or a cool one. And at the moment, she was brimming over with excitement and nerves and something else. Something thrilling.
Carter walked over to the bar and said something to his brother. They talked for a minute. Lincoln gave Carter a hard pat on the back in what was obviously support. It was a nice moment to witness. Lincoln encouraging his brother that way.
Then Lincoln went over to adjust something under the bar. The background music went off. It didn’t make much impact because of the steady buzz of voices, but Ruth noticed because she was watching.
Carter walked toward the back corner, pausing by Lance and Savannah’s table so he could take the red sweater.
Ruth had known—she’d known—that sweater was significant.
Carter pulled it on over his head as he headed for the piano. Ruth gasped out loud as he sat down on the bench and started to play a few chords.
The music surprised enough people that about half of them stopped talking and turned to look.
Then Carter started to sing.
“I don’t want a lot for Christmas...” His pleasant baritone voice rang out through the bar, quieting the rest of the talkers. By the time he’d finished the first line of the song, everyone in the room was focused on him. “There is just one thing I need.”
Ruth knew this song. She was used to it from a female voice, but it sounded perfect coming from Carter. She adjusted her chair so she could see Carter at the piano better, her mouth hanging open as he continued to sing.
“I don’t care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree.”
Some of the listeners started to applaud and cheer, delighted by this unexpected serenade. Ruth sat breathlessly and listened.
When he reached the end of the introduction, he turned his head to look right at her as he sang, “Make my wish come true. All I want for Christmas is you.”
The bar exploded with excitement as he pushed the piano bench back and stood up, turning around to face her as the tempo and energy of the song accelerated. Bells started to jingle around the room as several women (including a grinning Savannah) started to shake them in time with the music.
Carter came closer to Ruth as he sang the first verse. Before he’d completed it, Lance stood up from his table and Lincoln came out from behind the bar. The two men moved into position behind Carter.
Then they started to sing backup as Carter reached the chorus.
Ruth could barely breathe. Barely move. She really couldn’t believe this was happening. But Carter was definitely there. Singing the familiar words in a voice as smooth and warm as velvet while the other two men sang very competent harmony.
Ruth choked on giggles (or maybe tears) as Carter and his two backup singers moved forward even more so they were right in front of her, taking up much of the empty space in the middle of the bar. It was obvious Carter was singing to her. He never looked anywhere else. He was grinning in the same way he had as they’d danced together last weekend in the kitchen, like he was full of feeling he tried to contain but had to come out as he sang.
During the second verse, he started to dance. Nothing too flashy or athletic. Just some of the basic steps he’d used in the boy band song with some tongue-in-cheek cheesy hand motions. When Lance and Lincoln did the moves with him—clearly choreographed and practiced—the whole place went wild.
People were on their feet, singing with Carter and the others. Clapping and laughing and obviously just as blown away by the spontaneous performance as Ruth was. She couldn’t help but notice Lincoln’s expression as he sang. He was smiling at her a lot, but more of the time he was watching his brother with a joyful awe. Like the bottom had been blown out of his world.
That was how it felt to Ruth too. Like this had to be a dream. Like this wasn’t really Carter. And he wasn’t singing this romantic Christmas song to her in front of their whole town. It wasn’t real life. It must be a scene from a romantic comedy. Or a teenage musical television show.
In Ruth’s life, those things simply didn’t happen.
But it was happening now. And the man singing was all Carter with his warm brown eyes and his thick red sweater and a slightly self-deprecating glint of irony in his eyes.
She was almost in tears, her hand poised in front of her wide-open mouth, as he finished the final steps and ended up down on one knee as he sang the final line. “All I want for Christmas is you.”
The cheering that followed the end of the song was deafening. But Ruth couldn’t cheer. Couldn’t clap. Couldn’t move. She stared down at Carter, aware that a couple of silly tears were streaming out of her eyes.
Carter pulled a jeweler’s box out of his pocket, opened it, and extended his hand with the ring.
It was gorgeous. A square-cut diamond on a platinum band.
“All I want for Christmas is you,” he murmured hoarsely. His face was damp with perspiration. He was breathing heavily. His eyes never left her face.
And his hand shook just a little.
Ruth tried to answer. Couldn’t get out a single word. So she nodded vehemently until the block in her throat broke. “Yes!”
Carter made a strange sound. Somewhere between a laugh and a sob. It was very convincing. Then he stood up and drew her from her chair into a hug as their audience exploded again.
It took a long time for them to get out of the bar. They were cheered and congratulated by everyone there. Carter bought a round of drinks, and Lance, Savannah, and the jingle-bell shakers Carter had rounded up for the performance came over, so Ruth had to be introduced to a bunch of new people.
Ruth tried to keep up. Tried to remember people’s names and answer their interested questions about herself. She discovered that Carter and Lance had done this same number back in high school for some sort of Christmas production, which was why they’d already had it choreographed, although their original third was out of town so Lincoln had had to step in and learn the part.
She attempted to keep up with the conversation, but she was in a giddy daze. Carter kept an arm around her, and she leaned against him.
He felt safe. He’d done something amazing for her tonight. And yes, he had his own reasons for it, and yes, it was part of their prearranged plan. But still...
No one had ever done anything like that for her before. Not even close.
She’d get to carry that memory with her for the rest of her life, long after she had to return the engagement ring that was only hers until Christmas.
Four
RUTH MIGHT HAVE EXPECTED to spend the following day in a relaxed, giddy haze after the heart-stopping proposal. She and Carter agreed to spend all afternoon and evening together—since it only made sense the day after getting engaged—so she might have imagined she’d have at least a day to relish the emotional pleasure and enjoy Carter’s company.
That wasn’t what happened, however.
The next afternoon, she and Carter did indeed get together. He picked her up so they could hang out at Roasted for a couple of hours and confirm the impression of a happily engaged couple. But they got into a weird argument on the drive downtown.
Not even an argument. An oddly tense discussion.
It was still going on as they walked down the sidewalk to the coffee shop.
“I’m not saying that,” Carter muttered, looking decidedly grumpy as he held the door open for her. “I was just asking if you’d ever spoken to Brent about your concerns.”
“Of course I’ve spoken to him,” Ruth snapped, having enough sense to keep her voice low so no one but Carter could hear her. “Do you think I’m a child or a coward? I’ve spoken to him over and over again. I’ve planned out calm, reasoned discussions. I’ve yelled at him. I’ve muttered snide comments under my breath. I
’ve told him what I’m worried about. He doesn’t listen!”
She was getting emotional, which she didn’t like. She blamed it entirely on Carter, who wouldn’t let the topic drop even though she’d made it clear she didn’t want to talk about it right now.
“Okay.” He raised his hands in a pose of surrender, something that really annoyed her. Made her feel like an irrational, melodramatic little girl. “Okay. I was just asking. I’m not attacking you or anything.”
She rubbed her face as they stood facing each other. “I know you’re not. But I’m telling you I’ve talked to him, and it doesn’t work. It doesn’t seem to get through to him. I’ve done everything I can. And you’re not going to be able to swoop in and fix everything overnight.”
Carter scowled. “I’m not trying to fix things.”
“Well, it feels like you are. It’s a really complicated situation, and I’m doing the best I can with it. But it’s my worry, not yours.” She wasn’t sure why she felt so embarrassed about the whole thing. It was messy. Really messy. And Carter’s life felt so neat and clean and pretty. “I know you’re trying to help, but you don’t need to get all up into my business. It is what it is. It’s not going to change.”
His eyes held hers with a strange intensity. “All right.”
“All right.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat.
“All right,” he said again.
“Are you two having a lovers’ quarrel already? The day after getting engaged?” The teasing voice came from behind Ruth.
They both jerked in surprise and turned to see a smiling woman. One of the jingle-bell shakers from last night. An old friend of Carter’s.
Naturally.
“Of course not,” Carter said smoothly, pulling Ruth to his side and sliding an arm around her waist.
“He was just being a little overprotective,” Ruth added, knowing the tension had probably been visible and needed an explanation. “It’s sweet, but unnecessary.”
