by Beth Labonte
As promised, we left on our trip together, and we returned home to Autumnboro together. We haven’t been apart since.
While we were away, Mom and Dad offered to come up to watch the store. As it turned out, they enjoyed their time in Autumnboro so much that they put their house in Massachusetts on the market, and bought one two miles from mine. Dad comes by the store all the time now—sometimes to talk to me, but usually to hang out with Tom and Moose, who formed an unofficial woodworking club by the fireplace.
Lee started college this fall at Plymouth State, so Dad’s also been enjoying looking over his coursework, giving him pointers on note-taking, and whatever other things retired teachers are into.
Upon returning home from Pennsylvania last Thanksgiving, Maggie finally decided it was time to retire for good, which left Artie Goldwyn in need of a part-time secretary. Mom—for all the times she asked me why I wanted to work when I could just relax—scooped up the job in a heartbeat. I smiled at her, down at the end of the table, sipping her wine and talking animatedly to Dad. I didn’t even think she’d gone for any pre-Thanksgiving Botox this year.
Granny was sitting beside her, smiling at Riley, which she tended to do a lot. Not that I could blame her. He looked so handsome in the gray and black cardigan I’d picked out for him (the fact that I’d ordered a matching one for Pixie was a surprise I was saving for after dinner). Riley caught me staring and smiled back.
“Did you order enough pies this year?” asked Uncle Burt, loosening his pants. “Because last year I don’t think there were enough pies!” He let out a loud guffaw. I was just thankful he seemed to have given up the spaceship to Mars joke.
“There are plenty of pies, Uncle Burt,” I said, standing up and clearing away some plates. “I’ll start taking them out.”
“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” said Riley, a bit too loudly. He stood, bumping the table with his legs, making everybody’s drinks slosh up the sides of their glasses.
“Um, okay,” I said, looking at him, my eyebrows raised. “Thanks for the info.”
“I’ll help you in the kitchen after I’m done,” he said, in a strange robot voice that I’d never heard before.
“Great.” I patted him on the back as he left the room. Why was he acting so weird? So nervous? It was almost like the way he used to act around me.
I was in the kitchen, scraping turkey and stuffing into the trash, when a noise by the sink made me look up. It was Riley, leaning against the counter and watching me. His eyes kept flicking from me to the refrigerator. Me to the refrigerator.
“You okay?” I asked. Maybe he was just really jonesing for some of that pie.
“Yeah. Of, course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He pulled out his phone and started tapping at the screen, which made things feel slightly more normal. I put the plates into the sink and opened the refrigerator. I took out two pie boxes, placed them on the counter, then went back into the fridge for more. It was after I had lifted the third box that I saw it—the large plastic coffee cup with the dome lid, way at the back of the shelf. It was filled with the rich, amber color of a Maple Sugar Crush, and on the cup, written in black Sharpie, were two words:
Marry Me?
Beneath the two words was drawn a simple, scribbled heart. The pie box dropped from my hands, hitting the floor with a thud and a splat, which drew the attention of everybody still seated at the tables.
“Are you okay?” somebody called out—my sister, I think—but I just continued staring into the refrigerator, one hand going to my mouth.
“I hope that wasn’t the pecan!” shouted Uncle Burt.
“More like pe-can’t!” That was Randy. Still, I didn’t move.
I heard more murmuring from the tables, and the sound of chairs scooting back, and people walking over to investigate. In slow motion, my hands shaking, I pulled out the coffee cup and turned to look for Riley. He’d put his phone away and was down on one knee in the middle of my kitchen. He had a ring box in one hand, and Pixie beside him. She was already dressed in her gray and black sweater.
“How did you—” I pointed dumbly at Pixie. Riley down on one knee was too much to process at the moment. But Pixie in her sweater…we could start there.
“Because I know you, Moneybags,” said Riley. “I knew that if you’d bought me a sweater, you must’ve bought Pixie one to match.” He put one hand to the side of his mouth. “And because Granny told me it was hidden in the spare bedroom.”
I laughed and swiped at my eyes that had been rapidly filling with tears. “Well, you two look adorable. It’s everything I dreamed it would be. It’s perfect.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” My eyes shifted to the ring box, then back to Riley, silently urging him on. “Well, almost.”
I could tell that he was nervous. Proposing was no easy business, never mind doing it in front of my entire family. I’d make this easy on him.
“What do you say, Josephine?” The way he said my name sent shivers down my spine. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” I nodded. “Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you.”
I put the cup down on the counter and wrapped my arms around his neck. Uncle Burt wolf-whistled. Pixie barked and pawed at our legs, as if she knew exactly what was going on. As if she knew that this house would soon be filled with double the love and double the belly rubs.
“I know it’s not champagne,” said Riley, after we’d finally broken apart. He was looking at the Maple Sugar Crush on the counter. “But, should we split it?”
“I’d love some.”
I waited while he carefully poured the somewhat melted drink between two champagne flutes. We clinked glasses and each took a sip. The coffee was rich and sweet and reminded me of summer. I stood on my toes and kissed him on the cheek.
“I love you,” I said, nuzzling into his neck.
“I love you, too.” His lips pressed against my forehead, one arm around my waist. I closed my eyes.
Somehow, I’d gone and hit the lottery twice. The first time was nothing but pure luck. Just a random bunch of numbers on a slip of paper. That one, I’m sharing with the world, one good deed at a time.
But the second time? The time that this amazing person ended up in my life, one arm wrapped around my waist, telling me that he loves me? I’m sorry to say, but that one’s all mine. I’d really like to share, but he’s one of a kind. Life is so much sweeter now, with Riley by my side.
Sweeter than maple sugar.
The End
Other Books by Beth Labonte
The Summer Series:
Summer at Sea
Summer at Sunset
Summer Baby
Holiday Sweet Romance:
Love Notes in Reindeer Falls
Autumnboro Sweet Romance:
Pumpkin Everything (Book 1)
Maple Sugar Crush (Book 2)
More:
Down, Then Up: A Novella
You can also find Beth here:
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www.bethlabonte.com
