Don't Turn Around
Page 37
Lincoln removed his hand from his pocket with a groan.
“Base Camp Two, come in,” Lincoln’s grandmother said, via the walkie-talkie. “You there, son? Over.”
Lincoln closed his eyes.
“Go ahead.” Casey was still laughing. “You might as well answer her, otherwise she’ll be here in five minutes banging on the front door.”
Lincoln got off the couch. “This’ll just take a second. I swear.”
Casey smiled, settling back on the couch as she reached for her wineglass.
“Base Camp Two, this is Base Camp—”
Lincoln snatched the walkie-talkie off the kitchen counter and walked back into the living room, holding his finger on the transmit button. “Grandma, are you on fire?”
“Ah, that’s a negative, Base Camp Two,” his grandmother said. “Base Camp One is not on fire. Over.”
“Is there blood, Grandma? And I mean arterial blood. Is one of you bleeding, Grandma?” Lincoln released the transmit button.
Casey took a gulp of wine to keep from laughing aloud.
The walkie-talkie crackled. “That’s a negative on the blood, as well, Base Camp Two. You’re supposed to say over when you’re done. Over.”
“Grandma, you swore to me that you wouldn’t bother us tonight,” Lincoln said, obviously trying to be patient. “You promised me three hours of peace. All I asked for was for three hours.” He let go of the button.
“You better say over,” Casey suggested.
Lincoln shot her an evil look. “Over,” he said into the walkie-talkie.
“No need to get your boxers in a twist, Base Camp Two. We were just checking in. Wanted to see if you had popped the question yet.”
Lincoln suddenly looked as if he wanted to kill or be killed.
Casey almost spat her mouthful of wine back into her glass.
“Grandma,” Lincoln moaned into the walkie-talkie. “She can hear you, you know.” He let go of the button, looking to Casey. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really wanted this to be a special evening.” He started to fish in his jeans pocket with his free hand. “I wanted to do this right.”
Casey got off the couch and crossed the room to Lincoln. Her heart swelled. “It’s all right.”
“No,” he said. “It’s not. I—”
“Base Camp Two. Is that a negative on the marriage proposal, then? Over.”
“Grandma—”
“You have to get on your knees, son. Get down on your knees and ask her. A girl can never say no to a man who proposes on his knees. Over.”
Lincoln met Casey’s gaze, looking sheepish. “I didn’t mean for this to be a group effort.”
Laughing, Casey wrapped one arm around his waist, taking the walkie-talkie from him. “Base Camp One, this is Base Camp Two. Over.”
“Go ahead, Base Camp Two,” Lincoln’s grandmother said cheerfully. “Over.”
“That’s a yes on the marriage proposal. Now if you’ll excuse us, I’m going to have a look at the ring he’s got shoved in his pocket.” She brushed her fingertips over the front of his jeans. “Over.”
“Affirmative, Base Camp Two. She said yes!” his grandmother said, obviously directing her comment to Lincoln’s grandfather and Casey’s father in the room with her. “This is Base Camp One, out.”
“Base Camp Two, out,” Casey echoed. She tossed the walkie-talkie on the couch.
“I really am sorry,” Lincoln apologized again. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“How big a surprise could it be? I asked you to ask me to marry you, remember?”
He laughed and lowered his head until their lips met. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you.” She kissed him and leaned back, still in his arms. “So let’s see it.” She held out her hand.
Lincoln pulled a ring out of his pocket. “Let me put it on you,” he said.
Casey held out her left hand.
“It might be a little big, but we can have it sized.” He spun it on her finger and the diamonds caught the light from the fire on the hearth. “It was my great grandmother’s wedding ring, but I thought you might like it as an engagement ring.”
“Oh, Lincoln,” Casey said, surprised that she couldn’t catch her breath. The ring was perfect, an antique setting in platinum with a row of sparkling diamonds. “It’s beautiful,” she added, tears filling her eyes.
“So is that a yes?” Lincoln closed his arms around her. “Will you marry me, Casey? Will you and your dad become a party of my crazy family? Will you consider having my children?”
Casey’s eyes clouded with concern and she caught both his hands in hers, taking a step back so she could look up at him. “Are you sure about this? Dad’s disease is progressive. Caring for him might require more than either us realizes right now.”
“My eyes are wide open, hon. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”
“Do you mean that?”
He squeezed both of her hands, his dark eyes sincere with just a twinkle of humor. “That’s affirmative, Base Camp. Over.”
Casey threw her arms around him. “Then, yes, yes, yes! I’ll marry you. We’ll have a baby.” She was laughing. She was crying. It had been a long time in coming, but she was happy at long last.
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Copyright © 2008 by Colleen Faulkner
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