Chapter 14
DYLAN
Ihave three nice suits at my house in Kingsville, but my best suit lives in Dad's closet since I only wear it once a year. My parents left a bit early to meet friends for dinner before the ball, so I get ready upstairs in their bathroom, to give Emma some privacy.
I’ve never taken a date to the ball. The entire town is probably going to be staring at us.
I think I can deal with that. The first holiday after I moved away, I was swarmed with well meaning neighbors and relatives who wanted to make sure I was okay "in the big city." I just hope that Emma doesn’t get overwhelmed.
After a super close shave, I get dressed and comb my hair, then run my hand through it half a dozen times. There's a fine line between having my hair a bit tidier and no longer looking like myself.
I'm sitting in the living room half watching a documentary about the population resurgence of the Eastern Monarch Butterfly when I hear a noise at the top of the basement stairs.
I click the TV off, then my jaw falls open when I see Emma. "You look like a snowflake princess," I blurt, completely stunned by the vision in front of me.
Seriously, Emma could step into a movie and play the part of an angel right now.
She giggles sweetly, giving me a twirl. "So… This is okay?"
I stare at her silver shoes with the cute crystal bows, then my gaze shifts up to her shapely calves. The blueish silver dress makes the most of her every curve. The skirt is just flared enough to be perfect for dancing, and the neckline just low enough to be sexy without being too revealing.
Her hair is up in a half twist, spilling over one shoulder. When she turns, I see a row of three crystal snowflake clips in her hair. My gut clenches as I envision us later, Emma taking her hair down while I tear the pretty dress clean off.
Focus.
"Breathtaking," I murmur, coming over to take her hands in mine."You were already beautiful in that red dress, looking so blue at Ray's Diner. Now you're wearing blue, but you're smiling. I think I like this version better."
She tips up her chin, and I see the touch of bronze eyeliner that makes her eyes pop.
"I'm dying to kiss you, but I don't want to mess up your lipstick."
"Oh, it's one of those ‘kiss-proof’ ones. I tried to smudge it with my thumb and couldn't. So we should be safe in case you have to kiss me when…" She hesitates. "When we make that…you know…fake announcement thing."
Suddenly, she looks nervous again. I hate that.
"When are you going to do the announcement, anyhow?" she asks quietly. "Wait until the end when we’re leaving, or get it over with right away?"
I feel like an asshole for making her so jittery. "Let's discuss it on the way there."
I carry her to the Jeep so she doesn't have to step in the snow in her shoes. Then I toss her winter boots into the back, just in case.
As we drive downtown, I reach out to squeeze her hand. My gut sinks when I feel that she is trembling slightly.
"Yeah, so." Emma fidgets, her hand becoming clammy in mine. "When are we going to drop the bomb on your mom and the family?"
I gently rub the side of her hand with my thumb. "There's no bomb, baby."
"What do you mean? She saw that proposal thing. She expects—"
"I don't care what she expects. I want to talk about us."
"Oh…okay."
I extract my hand to round a corner, then park in the parking lot near the town hall. It’s filling up quickly. Once the engine is off, I undo my seatbelt and turn to take her hands. "Emma, can you tell that I have gigantic feelings for you?"
Her breath stops for a moment, then she presses her lips together. "To be honest, I feel this has happened so fast that I can't trust anything I'm thinking and feeling."
"That's fair. For the record, I want you to always be honest with me. Completely, brutally honest. And I'll be the same with you. Cool?"
She nods. “Cool."
"So, here it is – my feelings for you are real. I'm worried to tell you just how real, actually. As to how tonight’s going to go: we'll go inside and do a lap of the room. You're going to meet hundreds of people at once, and nobody will expect you to remember their names so don’t even try."
Finally, she smiles. "And then I get to taste this famous potato salad?"
"Yes. There will be lots of women who are going to want to know all about your baking and craft skills. I'm afraid you're just going to have to wing it there."
"Cookies and scrapbooking. I've got that covered."
"Perfect. At some point, Dad and Josh will call me over for our annual men's whiskey toast. Probably scotch. Dad picks something fancy every year."
Emma nods. "I'll be fine on my own for a while. Family traditions are important."
"After you've relaxed a bit and we're having a nice normal Christmas date, I'm going to tell you the legend surrounding this ball. Then I'm going to ask you to dance."
"What about…the other stuff?"
"The announcement? I’ll ask for your opinion on that while we dance. We can play it by ear." I flash her a grin that I hope puts her at ease. "Even though everyone dresses up for this event, it's not super formal. It's like a giant hangout with bowties and champagne. Okay?"
She nods firmly. "Okay. I'm ready."
She starts to open her door, but I call out, "Wait!"
I race around to her side of the Jeep to scoop her into my arms.
“I always want you to do whatever you like, baby. But I absolutely forbid you to walk in the snow in those little shoes."
"So overbearing," she laughs. "Controlling me like this when we haven't even been together very long."
“Oh, you wait until we've been together for six months. Then I'm going to start demanding crazy things like Sunday afternoons are for loafing, and we should have our dinner dates on Thursday instead of Friday because restaurants are less busy."
"Such a monster!" She laughs again. “Soon you’ll be reminding me to stop working late for a bunch of days in a row.”
Something in Emma’s eyes has shifted. Although I’m no expert in reading women, I think her mood has switched from nervous dread to…cautious excitement, maybe?
I just hope she’s still this excited when I have her out on the dance floor and explain the significance of dancing at this particular event.
Some say it's just a silly old superstition here in town. I happen to know that it’s completely true. My family is living proof of it.