Chapter 24
LORENZO
Lorenzo hated big, happy events. Too many people, too loud, too much sensory input.
Theoretically, he was glad that other people were having fun, laughing, talking, dancing, all those alien activities that weren’t part of his regular life.
Coming here had been a move made in haste and desperation…
but he had known she’d be here, courtesy of a text from Robbie, and the inn was ten minutes from his house.
“I’m fine,” he said, aware that it was his turn to speak. He looked at her dress. “You look very…appropriate.” Beautiful. He should’ve said beautiful, but wouldn’t that have sounded strange, coming from his mouth?
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he thought she almost smiled. “I didn’t see your name on the guest list,” she said. “This is a surprise.”
“I was invited, which wasn’t necessary, but I RSVP’ed no. I…I just wanted to see you, that’s all.” His molars ached. Ah. He was clenching his jaw.
“And so you have.” She gave a twirl, and the sight of her skin, the swish of her dress, felt like an oddly welcome punch in the chest. “Anything else?”
“I owe you an apology. I said things that were…wrong.”
“Underachieving, condescending and tone-deaf. Those things?”
“Yes. Sorry.” A cardinal flitted past the window, and Lorenzo immediately thought that the bird was like Winnie—a flash of dazzling color in his gray life.
“Apology accepted.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She smiled faintly, and his chest ached with feeling. With fear…and hope.
His turn for words again. May as well get it over with. “I’m fairly sure I’m in love with you. It’s awkward and uncomfortable, and I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“That’s so romantic, Lorenzo. Wow.”
“Romantic is not really in my wheelhouse.”
“No.”
They looked at each other for a minute, then Robbie skidded up, literally sliding into her. “Hey, man! Glad you came! Are you here to beg my sister to marry you? That would be fine with me, just saying.”
Lorenzo looked at him. “No,” he said. “Congratulations, by the way.”
“Thanks! I’m a lucky man. Sorry, Winnipeg. I tried.” He grinned and darted off again.
“I might be here to beg you to date me, though,” Lorenzo said. “I…well. As I said, I miss you. My life seems very…gray these days. Without you in it, that is.”
Her face didn’t move, but her lovely eyes softened, and it occurred to Lorenzo that she was the most beautiful woman in this room, and if he couldn’t ever touch her hair or feel her skin or kiss her or hear her laugh, his life would be very long and bleak.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll date you. I’m fairly sure I’m in love with you, too.” Then she stood on her tiptoes, put a hand over his thudding heart, and kissed him chastely on the lips.
“Oh, huzzah!” came a voice. Robert Smith, the grandfather.
“Young man, I was hoping you’d fall for my granddaughter!
I had a sense when we were at that strip club!
I asked myself, ‘Do you know who would be perfect for Winnie? This young man right here.’ And I was right!
Now, don’t tell the others this, but she’s my favorite. ”
“Grandpop, you said literally the same thing to me ten seconds ago,” said Winnie’s sister. The bookstore sister. “Winnie, I’m his favorite, but I agree with everything else he just said. Grandpop, come dance with us, okay? Talk to you later.” She smiled at Lorenzo and led the old man away.
“Would you like to dance?” Lorenzo asked, his hand aching to touch the bare skin on Winnie’s back.
“Not really,” she said, “but in your case, I’ll make an exception.”
He took her in his arms, skimmed his fingertips along her spine and felt her shiver. Suddenly, he felt right. That was not a feeling he had often, other than when he was operating on someone, but certainty enveloped him in a warm embrace.
“I have a dog now,” she said, then cleared her throat, and it occurred to him that she was feeling a lot of things, too.
“I like dogs.”
“She sheds a lot.”
“There are machines for that, aren’t there?”
“There are. I just ordered a Roomba.”
“You look so beautiful,” he said, letting his lips brush her ear.
“There you go,” she whispered a little breathlessly. “Well done.”
He held her a little closer, breathed in her clean, soft smell—Ivory soap and honey—and closed his eyes. “Is it too early to propose?” he murmured.
“Yes,” she said, pulling back to look into his eyes. “But hold that thought and ask again in a few months.”
He would. He would put a note in his calendar, and in the spring when the flowers were blooming and the air was soft, he would ask Windsor Smith to marry him.
If he wasn’t mistaken—and really, he hardly ever was—she would say yes.
THE END
* * *
Thank you for reading Once in a Blue Moon.