by Leanna Ellis
“What?”
“That you two were . . . that y’all were maybe seeing each other.”
“You’re full of funny ideas, Kaye.”
“It makes sense.”
“Because I was her husband’s best friend? And she’s a lonely widow?”
I try to read his expression but can’t. “I guess, yeah. But . . . you know . . . the kids too?”
“Oh, yeah, right. Of course. It makes sense.” He shakes his head. “We dated before she and Luke started seeing each other.”
“Yes.” And duh!
“We weren’t right for each other.”
He’s quiet for a long minute while a couple of teens pass us and head toward a car across the lot. “You didn’t think I could be interested in you?”
“N-no.” My voice stutters.
“We’re going to have to work on that.”
Suddenly I understand what he’s asking me, and my heartbeat quickens. The corner of my towel slides off my knee and I place it back, my hand trembling ever so slightly. “So you’re asking me to dinner . . . as a date?”
He nods, his eyes wide as if I’m mentally slow. Which I guess I am. “Yes, Kaye. I want to take you out on a date. Remember that kiss?”
My face flames. “Which one?”
“Exactly. I wasn’t kidding when I told you I was willing to suffer through another one any time you wanted.” He’s watching me as if my emotions are playing across my face—shock, denial, shock, understanding, shock, exuberance. “Now what are you grinning about?”
“Just an inside joke.” I glance up at the sky again and wink. Thanks, God.
“I do stand a chance.”
Epilogue
The house is quiet, almost too quiet. Izzie has taken Gabe driving, showing off her new license. I’ve got my cell phone in my robe’s pocket. Just in case. I pour a fragrant cup of coffee and carry it outside. A mild spring breeze ruffles bits of hair that have fallen out of my Velcro rollers.
The cough and whir of a neighbor’s lawn mower erupts nearby. It sputters and the clean scent of freshly mown grass wafts toward me. A twig sticking up in the flower bed snags my attention. Frowning, I notice several twigs sticking up out of the ground where once my rose bushes bloomed copiously. But Cousin It saw to it they never bloomed again.
I set my coffee cup on the patio table and walk over to the bed with new mounds of dirt piled up around several twigs. A breeze makes the gate swing open. What is going on?
Before I can close the gate, Jack backs his way through the opening. Behind him rolls a squeaky red wagon. Inside it are good-sized twigs sticking out of green gallon cartons. He sees me and his hazel eyes brighten. “Morning.”
I should have known. A smile emerges even as I touch a roller on top of my head. “What are you doing here? I thought you said last night you had work to do.”
“Believe me, this is work.” He waves toward the plants. “I’ve been waiting a good six months to take care of this.”
While he situates the red wagon where he wants it, I yank out my curlers, toss them beside the coffee cup then fluff my hair, trying to finger comb it into some semblance of order. “And what’s that?”
“Roses. I’m replacing the ones that Cousin It dug up last year.”
I walk toward him again. “What makes you think she won’t dig these up?”
“She wouldn’t dare.” He grins, then touches one of my curls, causing a ripple in my belly. “What happened to your rollers?”
“I thought I’d hold off on the Halloween look till October.”
“I kind of liked it.”
I shake my head, then glance behind him. “Where’s your buddy?”
Occasionally, in the six months that Jack and I have been seeing each other, he brings Cousin It over to say hello. I have to admit she’s calmed down a little. Only a little. She’s still rambunctious, counter-surfs, and takes running leaps into the pool, but if she dares to dig up a rose bush then I suppose I’ll forgive her. Maybe she’s also torn down my barriers. The way God demolished the ones around my heart.
“She’s with Pam and the kids.” Jack pulls a shovel off the wagon and starts digging in the flower bed Cousin It destroyed. I watch him for a few minutes as he shapes the hole to his liking, then carefully tips a gallon-sized carton on its side and pries out the dormant rose bush.
“So, what color did you get?”
“My favorite.”
His answer makes me laugh. Sure enough, the label strapped to a branch flaps in the breeze: Lincoln Red.
“Don’t worry. I got something for you too.”
It’s then that something on the branch catches the light. Peering closer, I see it’s a ring. Not just a ring, but a diamond ring. A good-sized diamond, so large it makes my eyes widen. It sparkles in the morning light. When I look at Jack, he’s quit packing dirt around the base and is watching me. Careful of the thorns, he slides the ring off the branch. “I remembered what you said.”
I can’t manage a word, not even a stutter. But I arch an eyebrow.
“You know . . . about a husband bringing flowers. Not just on Valentine’s or anniversaries. And not ordered by a secretary.”
A husband? I swallow hard, trying to suppress a blooming smile as I remember that long-ago conversation so peppered with my anger toward Cliff. It all seems silly now. Those desires have so often been met over the past few months each time Jack has brought me bunches of daisies and sprigs of handpicked pansies.
“These will take a while to grow. But we can enjoy them together.” He slips an arm about my waist.
“It’s not Valentine’s.”
“Or our anniversary yet. It’s not even a president’s birthday. So, how about”—Jack steps toward me—“just because I love you?”
I loop my arms around his neck. “It’s not exactly what I imagined.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me and pulls back only slightly. “Not romantic enough?”
Tears form in my eyes, clog my throat.
“Would it be better if I rode up on a white steed?”
I shake my head, rest my hand over his heart. “No, this is . . . perfect.”
And I thank him with a kiss that I hope shows my full appreciation.
Before I finish, he pulls away. Raising his hand, he waggles his pinky at me. The diamond catches the light in a rainbow of colors. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh?” I let the smile take over. “And what question was that?”
He tips his head sideways, a nervous gesture, pulls back a step, and drops down to one knee. Looking up at me and squinting against the morning sunlight, he begins. “Kaye,” his voice cracks, “I love you. I have ever since Cousin It knocked all your books out of your arms. I can’t imagine you not being a part of my life. When you were trying to get Cliff back, noble as it was, I thought it might kill me. You deserve so much more. Better than me too. But this is all I have to give. My life . . . my love. Will you be my wife?”
God’s will is amazing. It so often takes turns that are curiously surprising and more generous than I deserve. I drop down to my knees and into Jack’s arms.
“Absolutely,” I whisper against his mouth.
Then we seal the deal with a kiss that not only takes my breath, but gives me life.
