Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Chautona Havig

  She saw through the silly, over-dramatic flourishes he made, sweeping one hand out and clutching the ring to his heart. His eyes told her that no matter how ridiculous he may act to cover his self-consciousness, he loved her. Aggie swallowed a lump-one of many that seemed to reappear as quickly as she thought she dispatched of them.

  “Aggie, your father assured me that no one inside that house can hear a thing. So, if I watch the recording of this later and hear myself, I cannot promise I won’t be red for eternity.”

  Still a little stunned to see him, Aggie’s first words were the epitome of graciousness that any young woman would hope to express at such a moment. “You said you weren’t coming.”

  “I remembered something you said the other day, combined with something you said after a certain spider dared to live a little too long, and then something Laird—”

  “Laird? What did he say?”

  “Oh, something about overhearing you mutter that you never get any time alone with me and how can you confess certain delightful things if you never have any time—”

  “Ok, ok. I get the picture.” She sent an exaggerated angry look in Laird’s direction. From the other side of the glass, the boy’s eyes widened to immense proportions and he pretended to bite his nails while quaking in fear.

  “Um, Aggie?”

  “Yeah?”

  Luke jerked his head at his outstretched arm. “Mind coming a little closer so I can give my arm something less painful to do?”

  Although it wasn’t the truly private moment she’d imagined for longer than she cared to admit to herself, Aggie crossed the last of the yard and seated herself on his knee. “Think it can hold me?”

  Luke wrapped both of his arms around her and whispered, “If I said I loved you—yet again—what would you say to that?”

  Family and window forgotten, Aggie turned to meet Luke’s eyes. Her voice cracked with emotion when she answered, “I’d say that it’s about time that I told you I love you, too.”

  Feigning a swoon, Luke collapsed onto the dormant grass, Aggie following right behind him. “Oops. Didn’t mean to take you down with me.” He helped her to her feet, dropped back to one knee in his previous pose and continued his “scene.” “Then, in that case, Aggie, may I ask, in front of God and all of these very nosy people, will you marry me?”

  As difficult as it was to hug a man determined to live out the rest of his days on one knee, Aggie squeezed his neck. Behind her back, Luke held up a pre-printed “cue card” that read, “Applause now.”

  “What—are they—” She glanced at the window where the family cheered and clapped.

  “Well,” he explained, holding the cue card where she could read it, “I believe they think you have accepted my proposal of marriage, so please don’t disappoint them or me and say yes.”

  The twinkle in Luke’s eyes as he spoke was something Aggie knew she’d never forget. She started to agree and then said, “If a yes means I’ll disappoint—”

  “Mibs…” Luke groaned. “You know—”

  “Yes, you silly man! Yes!” She stared at him pointedly. “I said yes! Now will you get off that knee before it grows into the ground?”

  In the house, the children jumped up and down, squealing. Her parents hugged each other, and Aggie had no doubt that they fought back tears. However, the scene that tugged at her heartstrings the most was the picture of her twin maiden aunts who looked on with that bittersweet expression only seen in elderly women who watch a new love story begin.

  Luke’s breath tickled her ear as he murmured, “Should we go inside and be mobbed with congratulations, or,” he continued, tugging her away from the window, “do we go sit on that swing under the tree and whisper sweet nothings to each other?”

  “And here I thought you’d gotten full disclosure on our family. If we do not get in that house in the next minute or two, we’re going to be ambushed.” Aggie winked and added, “Besides, you should call your mother. I think she’s convinced that I’m going to break your heart.”

  “That, my dear Mibs, is why I brought the video recorder.” He sighed, taking her hand and starting toward the house. “You’re right, I suppose. I’ll call.”

  Aggie savored those first few quiet moments of engagement as they crossed the lawn. Just as they reached the patio, however, Luke stopped still. “Oy!” A wicked grin split his face, “And that is for our estimable eldest son.”

  He produced the ring box once more. Dropping to one knee again, he sighed. “I really blew it, didn’t I?”

  “You’re developing a terrible habit of kneeling. Get up!”

  “Thank you. I admit, I don’t really know why men do that. It’s terribly uncomfortable and puts them at an awkward angle.”

  Luke watched, seemingly engrossed, while she opened the box and pulled something from inside. There, nestled in her palm, was a ring, one perfectly suited to Aggie’s tastes. “It’s beautiful! Where—”

  “Mom found it and thought of you. She showed it to me months ago—just after your birthday party I think. I didn’t know if you’d want to pick out your own or not, but I really wanted to have a ring for you today. The jeweler said we can exchange it.”

  “How did your mother know just the right thing?”

  “Mom knows people. Even if you want to exchange it later, I’d like it if you wore it today for my sake—and mom’s. She’ll love seeing the picture of it.”

  That was all it took. She’d managed to keep her composure through dramatic flourishes, eyes that promised a lifetime of love and cherishing, but Luke’s fingers slipping the ring over her finger prompted a flood of emotions that spilled into tears. “I wouldn’t want any other ring, Luke. It’s perfect for many reasons.”

  As predicted, they were mobbed before they got in the door. Cari promptly promised to love and obey Luke, which brought forth a burst of laughter from everyone but Lorna. “It’s not funny! She means it! Cari tries so hard!”

  “I do! I do twy!” Her conscience must have been especially sensitive that day because seconds later she added, “Most of the time.”

  Within minutes, wedding dates were tossed around by the family, until Aggie stood on a chair and called, “Time!!” Once the room quieted, she added, “Can I please enjoy the first hour of engagement without being expected to make wedding decisions?”

  A few “awwwws” escaped, but the peppering with questions ceased. Her aunts sent her a telepathic message that clearly said, “Introduce us, young woman!”

  “Luke, come here. Did you meet my aunts?”

  “Only briefly—just a nod really—I got delayed and you were right on my tail. Your mom kept me abreast of your position the whole way up here.”

  Aggie shot a glance at her mother. “Is that why you kept asking where we were? I was wondering if there was something wrong with the speedometer or something. You seemed so impatient!”

  “Guilty,” Martha agreed, trying to escape into the kitchen. Ron shooed her to her chair while he promised to check the turkey.

  She swallowed hard and rushed through introductions, hoping he wouldn’t connect dots she’d tried to hide. “Well then, Aunt Agatha, Aunt Athena, this is my Luke. Luke Sullivan.”

  Luke offered his hand and found himself enveloped in hugs, while Aggie escaped into the kitchen, hoping to keep him distracted. However, the moment she opened the fridge, she heard Luke call in an exaggerated fashion, “I guess little Agathena is growing up, isn’t she? First a mother of eight, now a wife!”

  So much for unconnected dots, she grumbled to herself. Aggie closed the fridge and opened the freezer without missing a beat. She grabbed a chip of ice from the ice bowl, closed the freezer, swiped a mug of hot apple cider from a tray on the peninsula, and sauntered back into the family room. Next to Luke, she took a sip and then frowned. “Oh, Luke, I’m sorry. I should have gotten you one. Would you like some?” As she spoke, Aggie reached up to rub Luke’s back in an apologetic manner and in the process, pushed the ice cube down hi
s sweatshirt, patting it thoroughly.

  Of course, Luke jumped, howled, and dove for her, but Aggie managed to get out of the way just in time to avoid attack and spilled cider. Practical joking on their engagement day—only Aggie and Luke would be that ridiculous. The competition commenced.

  ~*~*~*~

  Huddled in the corner of the family room with fistfuls of Uno cards, but with very few landing on the table, the Stuart children whispered. The adults in the kitchen were distracted by Ron’s recounting of his bungled proposal and oblivious to the conspiracy brewing in the other room. “I don’t know how we’d get the stuff we need though,” Vannie protested. “I like the idea, I do. But we can’t just say, ‘Aunt Aggie, can we have a tea party? We need fifty plates, fifty cups, a congratulations sign—’”

  “But our birthday is just over a week away,” Ellie piped up brightly. “You guys could pretend it’s a surprise party for us. We’ll ask the Merchamps to let us come play for an hour that day so that Aunt Aggie has to come get us and you can set everything up while she’s gone.”

  “We can’t set everything up in ten minutes!” Laird’s voice was too loud, but a glance into the kitchen showed that no one in there had noticed.

  “No…” Tavish began, “but Mrs. Merchamp would stall Aunt Aggie for a bit, talking. You could say you have to go to the bathroom really bad just as we pass the Pizza Palace. Between everything, we could stall it a good thirty minutes I bet.”

  Laird shook his head. “We don’t need that much time. Aunt Aggie can even help with most of the decorations. We’ll just add the engagement stuff after she goes and take down birthday stuff.”

  “Oh right,” Vannie agreed. “Wait, isn’t this your golden birthday? We can convince her that we need a gold theme! It’ll be more elegant than a regular kid’s party.”

  The kids grew excited, but Cari and Lorna padded downstairs after their early nap, rubbing their eyes. “Oh, great. I forgot about them,” Laird muttered. “There’s no way we can possibly keep it from them.”

  “Well,” Ellie suggested, “we can try. But if they become suspicious or anything, you can tell Aunt Aggie that they overheard us, and you told them it’s a party for her and Luke, so they wouldn’t spoil things for Tavish and I.”

  “Me.”

  “Spoil what for you, Vannie?”

  “The sentence—it’s Tavish and me.”

  Laird’s expression was priceless. “Seriously, Vannie? We’re plotting the best engagement party ever, and you decide to turn grammarist—”

  “Grammarian.”

  “What?”

  Vannie winked at Ellie, who could hardly keep from howling, “The word is grammarian, not grammarist.”

  Lorna watched as they continued to whisper amongst themselves for the better part of a minute before she wandered over to observe the game. “No one is playing. What are you talking about?”

  “Luke and Aunt Aggie,” Tavish muttered.

  “Will he be Uncle Luke?” The intricacies of familial relationships seemed to confound the child.

  “Yes.” Vannie swallowed hard and added, “Ian will probably call him ‘Daddy.’”

  The others looked at her stunned, until they realized that Ian’s trademarked ‘Gaggie’ was already being replaced by Aggie at times. It was only natural that in time he’d call her mama. His wail from upstairs gave Vannie a chance to escape without raising questions. “I’ll get him, Aunt Aggie. Where’s the diaper bag?”

  “On Grandma’s bed. You sure?” Aggie’s eyes traveled to the group in the corner. “What are you guys playing?”

  “They’re not,” Lorna complained. “They’re just talking about how Luke is going to be our Uncle now. I wanted to see Vannie win again. She always wins.”

  “Here, I’ll take her place. That way someone else will win this time. I never do.”

  A more jittery group of card players Aggie had never seen. The usual protests, banter, and shouts of victory with each great move were noticeably absent. If she initiated it, they all jumped in to respond, but immediately settled back into their silent but speedy rounds. At last, Ellie triumphed. “I won?” She stared at her empty hand in shock. “I don’t think I’ve ever said Uno before!”

  “If the baby’s awake, I’ll make the gravy and then we can eat,” called Aggie’s Aunt Athena. “Maybe the children could wash up?”

  Children scattered, leaving cards all over the table. Aggie scooped them up and wrapped the rubber band back around the stack. She turned to lead Cari and Lorna to wash their hands and found Luke already drying Lorna’s while Cari soaped up. When her mother went to pull the yams from the oven, Aggie showed off his helpful skills. “See that? I’ve missed that this past week.”

  Luke turned and raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

  “Eloquent as ever, Mr. Sullivan.”

  “Some girls marry men for their money, property, even family. This one,” he added, nudging her as she passed, “Agathena marries me for my two hands.”

  The competition continues, Aggie mused. “You can’t count using my name more than once,” she muttered as she saw Vannie enter the kitchen and took Ian from her. “I’d win this thing with ice that way.”

  By the time they were seated for dinner, the score was Aggie four, Luke two. Although Aggie had the home court advantage, Luke had a lifetime of practical joking with three sisters. She started to warn him that he couldn’t win, when she found herself jumping in the air, clutching her backside in the fashion of Maria von Trapp.

  “That’ll be three for me.”

  The temptation to throw a roll at him was huge, but whispering at the end of the table caught her attention. “Would you like to share your conversation with everyone, Laird?”

  “She sounds like a schoolteacher anyway.”

  Aunt Agatha’s comment was ignored while Laird stammered something about thinking she was going to lose. Before she could respond to either her aunt or her nephew, Martha asked, “And what is the score?”

  “Three to four, my favor. After the ice, I got him with the cold water pistol, got the boys to tie his shoelaces together—”

  “When did that happen?” Ron sent a questioning look at Luke and got an affirmative answer.

  “While you were all playing dominos. Four was when I convinced him that I played Abe Lincoln in the school play.”

  “I,” Luke interjected, “have used her real name half a dozen times, got the flour on her nose without her noticing, and had the pinecone success.”

  “Aunt Aggie had more failures.” Tavish seemed much too eager to remind her of that.

  “It just shows I’m not afraid to take a risk.”

  “Or that you’re out of your league.”

  Martha giggled. “Am I the only one who is imagining their children asking how they spent their first day of engagement and being confused to learn it was playing practical jokes on each other?”

  “Anyone who grows up with Aggie won’t be surprised.”

  “I am just thankful that he chose Thanksgiving to propose. It’ll help him remember to be thankful that he did when he doesn’t feel thankful anymore because I beat him—badly.”

  “Thank goodness that is over.”

  “Oh, any doubt about whether Luke is the right man for Aggie will be over in about ten seconds, won’t it, Ron?” Martha beamed.

  Aggie bit her lip to bide her time. She was just about to widen the gap between them. Luke had nervously asked how the meal would be served, confessing that he preferred to avoid yams with marshmallow topping. She assured him it would be family style, each dishing up their own portions. She just neglected to mention that there was never room for the turkey or the yams on the table, so her mother served the yams while her father served the turkey onto each person’s plate. And there came her piece de resistance.

  Ron Milliken prayed; Martha and he stood, and they carried their respective dishes to the table. At each of the children’s places, Martha doled out minuscule dollops of sugared yams, larger
portions to herself, Aggie, and her sisters, none for her husband, and an enormous portion to Luke. “I’m just pleased that someone else likes yams. Ron…”

  She didn’t have a chance to finish. Luke realized instantly what had occurred and reached under the table to pinch Aggie’s leg. Aggie promptly dumped her milk in his lap. “That cancels out your pinch. I’m still one up.” Without a pause, she jumped up, grabbed a kitchen towel, and passed it to Luke.

  “Aggie!”

  “All’s fair in practical jokes, love, and war.”

  “This seems to be all three,” Ron muttered. “Ok, how about we throw out some things we’re thankful for before we end up with an all-out food fight.”

  The suggestion was a good one, allowing Luke and Aggie to enjoy their dinner—at least most of it. Feeling a little guilty, Aggie got up when her Mother mentioned being thankful that most of the family was there, and got Luke a new plate. She removed the old one and winked at him as she sat down after making a show of checking for more conifer seed pods.

  The expressions of thankfulness were varied in both type and length. Ron was unusually eloquent and emotional with his, while Vannie’s was brief and to the point. Her aunts focused on Luke and the children, while the children did what children do best—amuse and amaze. From gratitude for the new house, to not having to go to Grandmother Stuart’s home, to her still being their “mom,” some of the comments both perplexed and astounded her.

  However, the best comments were spoken by the youngest, and last. Kenzie waited patiently for her turn and then with a very pointed look at Luke said, “I am thankful that Deputy William isn’t mad at Aunt Aggie for not marrying him.”

  Aggie’s attempt not to laugh lasted less than a quarter minute. Her shoulders shook, her hands covered her face, and at last, she erupted in uncontrollable laughter. “Only you, Kenzie.

  Lorna’s gratitude was a little more subtle. “I am thankful that Luke didn’t have to eat all his yams.”

  Before the chuckles at Luke’s expense ceased, Cari crossed her arms and said, “I think I is thankful that I didn’t get in twouble today.”