by Zahra Girard
Roxy and I share a look and then head to the bar, where Sam’s tending things.
“Two beers,” I say.
“Just one,” Roxy says.
I give her a look. So does Sam. Roxy rolls her eyes back at us.
“It’s barely past noon,” she says. “I’ll just have water.”
Sam’s look at Roxy lingers, but I just shrug. “Fine. Just one beer, Sam.”
Our drinks come and Roxy spends a second contemplating hers before looking over at me. “So, how did things really go with my dad?”
I take a big drink of my beer before I answer. Even though it was hours ago, I’m still riled by the man’s smug face and determination to get between me and the woman I love.
“I gave him the message, like we talked about. I told him that I was willing to set aside all the shit that’s happened and that we’d give him a second chance as long as he’s not a criminal or a dick about it,” I say. Then I see the look in her eyes and I add: “only I didn’t phrase it like that.”
“How did you phrase it?”
“Nicer.”
“Were there any threats of violence?” she says.
I feel like I’m balanced on a razor’s edge. “Yes,” I say, readying myself for the reaction I know is sure to follow. “I told him he tries any more of his shit and he’d get hurt.”
‘Hurt’ is putting it lightly. But she knows that.
“Good,” she says. That’s it.
There’s an icy note in her voice that I didn’t expect. “Excuse me?”
“I love him. He deserves a second chance. But we shouldn’t just forget what he did,” she says, calmly sipping her water. “And if he comes against our family, all bets are off.”
“Fucking hell, I love you,” I say, downing half my beer at once.
She takes another sip of water, smiling, and then excuses herself to go hit the head. While she’s away, I finish my beer in one pull — because talking about her father always puts me in the mood to drink — and then I wave Sam over for a refill.
She comes over and looks at me like she knows that something’s up. My heart’s beating as fast as a kid about lose his virginity on prom night.
I down the second beer as soon as it’s in my hands.
“Nerves?” Sam says.
I don’t even try to play smart with her — she’s perceptive enough to catch wind of most anything going on in the club and in anyone’s personal lives; it’s what happens when you’re the bartender and you see most everyone drunk on a pretty regular basis.
“Yeah.”
“You going to get around to proposing to her soon? Clock’s ticking on that, you know.”
I give her a look and motion for another beer. “What do you mean?”
“Hun, if you haven’t picked up on it now, you will soon enough, though I swear some of you boys can be so blind,” she says, setting another frothy pint of beer in front of me. “Gunney and I were talking about you two the other night. She’s going to make a great old lady.”
“A better old lady than a man like me deserves,” I say, thinking of all the ways my Houdini’s surprised me since I’ve known her.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Everyone sees the way she looks at you, and everyone knows the way you’ve bled for her, for your family, for the club. You should be proud.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
“You gotten the blessing to ask her?”
“From her father?”
“No, Bear, from the ones who count. Her mother and that crazy redhead friend of hers.”
I grin. “Yeah. I spoke to her mother. When she stopped crying on my shoulder, she said yes. The other one… I talked to her a couple weeks ago. She was in Seattle on business. Ozzy and I met her for a few drinks. She told me that if I fuck this up, she’ll cut my cock off and bludgeon me to death with it.”
“I like her.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“But there’s one other person you need to ask,” Sam says.
For a second, I’m confused, thinking she’s referring to Gunney who, as much as I respect him, doesn’t have any call over who I choose to marry. But then, I follow her eyes and see exactly who she’s looking at: Abigail.
She’s sitting on the floor at Ozzy’s feet, who’s sitting in a chair, gesturing wildly with a beer in hand and, probably, telling her a story about New Zealand. Probably something involving sheep.
I look around. My Houdini’s still in the ladies room. I’ve still got time.
“Abigail, come here,” I call out.
Reluctantly — and only after giving me a look that’s intended to make me feel bad for interrupting her story time — she crosses the room to stand in front of me.
“What?”
There’s this expression on her face that says I have five seconds to get to the point or she’s going to leave and go back to story time with Ozzy.
“I want to ask Roxanna to marry me. I love her. But it’s important to me, that it’s okay with you, too. Are you okay with having her as your mom?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it? Just ‘yes’?”
“I like her. Can I go back to my story now?”
“Yeah, you can go back to your stories. After you give me a hug.”
I give her a hug that makes her say ‘umph’ and then she scampers back to her place at Ozzy’s feet.
I turn back to Sam. “Do we have any champagne back there?”
She raises an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
“It was worth a shot. Pour a round for everyone, ok? When my Houdini gets out, it’s going to be time.”
“Here and now? My you’re a romantic.”
“What better place than surrounded by family?”
“You sentimental bastard. I’ll let you do it here, but only if you promise to take her out for a nice dinner later. That woman deserves it.”
“Agreed,” I say. “I was planning on it, anyway.”
“Sure you were.”
Sam barely has time to pour a round before my Roxy comes back. Her face is flushed, and I hesitate for a second because she almost looks sick. But a look flickers in her eyes and she can tell something’s up.
Probably because everyone in the damn room has a drink in their hand and is staring at the two of us.
“Nash?” she says. “What’s going on? Did someone die?”
I pull the little box from my pocket.
I drop to my knee in front of her. I open the box. Light shimmers, reflected by the diamonds set into the ring inside. More than a few months of pay has gone into this ring, and more than a few hours feeling like a jackass in a jewelry store.
I want this to be perfect.
“There’s something important I need to ask you,” I start.
There are tears at the edges of her beautiful green eyes. Some of the guys start cheering, Gunney belts out an ‘Oorah’, but every single one of them goes silent at a look from Sam.
“Roxanna Grace Pierce,” I say and then stop, clearing my throat a few times because God damn something is choking me up. “I learned a long time ago that when you find someone worth it — really worth it — you hold onto them as tight as you can. You fight for them and you don’t let go. And I’ll be damned if you’re not one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met. I can’t imagine a future without having you as my old lady. Will you marry me?”
A joyous sob bursts out of her, and, nodding her head while tears wet her cheeks, she bends down and kisses me. Her tongue slides between my lips and she leans into me, giving all of herself to me with just a kiss.
The room fills with cheers and hooting and cries of ‘Oorah’ and ‘Kings’ and the sound of glasses smashing together as every member of my family toasts to us.
Roxanna — my Houdini — stays where she is, lips pressed to mine, for so long my heart feels about ready to give out it’s beating so hard. She takes the ring and slips it on her finger and then, with the slightest movement, she brings her lips to
my ear.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“If it’s second thoughts, at least wait a while.”
“I’m pregnant,” she whispers.
I pull back. Freeze. My heart ready to burst.
“Are you sure?” I whisper back.
It sounds too good to be true.
My cheeks ache; my smile’s giving her beaming grin a run for it’s money.
“I tested twice. And went to the doctor’s.”
Reaching out, I put my hand on the bar stool and lift myself to my feet; my head’s suddenly swimming and everything feels so good I wonder if it’s even real. Looking out at my family — every single one of them cheering for us — I’m seized with emotion enough to make my voice quiver.
I lift my glass and, with my other, I take my future old lady — my future wife — by the hand. My words boom through the room.
“So it seems like today is just full of good news,” I call out. “You’re all family, and I love you all — especially you, Jynx, because you’re a beautiful man and an even more beautiful maid — and, today, I am proud as hell to announce that this club is getting two new members — a new old lady and, in about nine months, there’ll be little one crawling around and biting your ankles.”
My voice gives out near the end, cracking as ferocious love and irrepressible pride overwhelm me. Next to me, my old lady leans into me and hops up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on my cheek.
I turn and kiss her on the lips so hard it bends her over backwards. Holding her in my arms, she smiles back at me.
“We’re going to be a family,” she says, awe and love swirling in her voice.
I grin. This moment — where it’s all come together — is one I’ll remember for the rest of my life.
“We are a family.”
*****The End*****
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