Chapter 25 #2
Emerson, Xavier, and Skyler joined the four of us for our Christmas Eve dinner tradition of spaghetti and meatballs.
We cleaned the kitchen as a group so we could take our annual drive around town to look at Christmas lights, with Berty claiming she needed to get home and to bed so she could join us early on Christmas morning.
I’d suggested she stay at our place and sleep on the sofa, but she refused, saying her bones were too old for sofas.
When Emerson had volunteered to give up her bed, Berty held to her determination to get to her own home.
During our holiday light tour, the snow had started falling in large, peaceful flakes that didn’t stick to the pavement but quickly covered the grass and other surfaces in a white blanket.
Once we returned home, the kids raced out of the truck toward the house. Emerson and I walked more slowly from the garage to the door. She squeezed my forearm, smiled up at me, and said, “That was magical. Thank you.”
I peered down at her, confused as hell. She’d been warmer toward me all evening.
It made me wonder if she’d either decided to buy the house she’d toured or decided she needed to stay with us longer—or both.
I knew she hadn’t told the kids she was looking at a place, so I had to wait to ask her the status.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about her staying longer just to leave in a few weeks as originally planned.
Everything had changed. It was murkier now.
I loved having her kids here, and I’d grown attached to her dog.
But the tension between us, at least before today, made everything trickier.
It made it hard to relax in my own home.
“What’s going on?” I asked her quietly, so the kids wouldn’t hear.
Her smile faded. “We need to talk.” She glanced at the gang of kids clamoring at the door to the house. “Later.”
Her expression seemed meaningful, but I couldn’t figure out what the meaning might be. I was thankful for the warmth, whatever the cause. It was much better than the awkward politeness of the past few days. I couldn’t help but wonder what had changed.
Finally, by nine o’clock, we had the kids in bed, convinced Santa might skip over our house if they weren’t sound asleep.
Emerson was upstairs tucking in Skyler after reading The Night Before Christmas to all four of them, all of us—three times.
I’d come down after turning out the lights in Ruby’s room, where she and Xavier were tucked into their beds after dismantling the giant fort.
We’d helped them see reason by pointing out they wouldn’t be able to play with anything new they might get for Christmas if they couldn’t walk through their room.
I was antsy, curious, wondering what Emerson was going to say.
I paced the living room, then stopped and tried to get out of my head and appreciate the moment, the quiet.
The twinkling lights on the tree soothed me, and I looked at each ornament, some the kids had made, some we’d picked out together, all with memories and meanings.
Emerson came up to my side and aimed her attention at the tree as well.
“Everybody good up there?” I asked.
“They seem to be. The Santa threat works like a charm, doesn’t it?”
“Every year. One of these years, Evelyn will be onto me if she’s not already.”
I wished I had a drink, something to hold on to. I considered offering her some wine or cocoa, but without knowing what she wanted to talk about or how it would go, a beverage seemed like a stall and a distraction.
“What did you want to talk about?” I asked, impatient.
She inhaled audibly, and I saw her chest rise with it out of the corner of my eye. I forced my focus back on the tree lights.
Emerson turned to face me, so I followed suit, feigning nonchalance while my pulse sped.
For a second, our gazes met, and I tried to read hers. She averted her eyes too quickly, seeming nervous. That did nothing to help my optimism.
She gripped her own arm at the elbow, which seemed only slightly less closed-off than if she’d crossed her arms over her chest. Or maybe that too was nerves. What the hell was she nervous about?
“I found the perfect house,” she said, peering up at me again and holding eye contact.
Everything in me sank in disappointment, but at the same time, there was a little voice that reminded me I should be happy for her. This was what she’d wanted all along, what she thought would make her happy. I wanted Emerson to be happy.
“That’s great, Ems,” I said, maybe a second or two later than I should’ve. “Tell me about it.”
She shook her head, lowered her gaze for a moment, then met mine again. “I decided not to put an offer in.”
“What? Why?”
“There’s”—she flashed a nervous smile—“not enough room for llamas.”
I narrowed my eyes as I tried to decipher her meaning. “Are you…getting llamas?” As I said it, I had a flash of a thought that maybe she meant my llamas, but that didn’t make sense.
She held out a hand palm up in an invitation for me to take it. I grasped her fingers, hope bubbling up like a hot spring.
“I realized the perfect house sometimes actually isn’t perfect. That one was missing something I don’t want to live without.”
I didn’t breathe, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, I raised my brows in question, about to come out of my skin.
“There’s this guy,” she said, glancing down at our joined hands, her lips fluttering upward into a hint of a smile, “and these two little girls plus some dogs and cats and chickens and horses and”—she pierced me with those sage-green eyes again—“llamas.” She shook her head and laughed.
“And I realized I love the guy and the girls and the dogs. Maybe the cats. The chickens I’m not so sure I’d call it love, but the horses have potential, and apparently my daughter loves the llamas.
And I’m pretty sure the entire herd comes with the guy, and I figured out…
I want the whole herd almost as much as I want the guy. ”
I laughed, but it was more than just amusement. So much more. It was elation and disbelief that I could be this lucky. And love.
I stared into her eyes, assuring myself she meant it, that this was real. It wasn’t every day that every dream you’d ever had was suddenly in reach.
“Really?” I said dumbly, aware on some level that a person wouldn’t say all of that if it wasn’t true. I laughed at myself.
Emerson went serious in an instant, and I wondered if I’d misinterpreted after all.
She let go of my hand, worrying me further, then reached under her sweater from the hem and…adjusted her bra?
As she removed her hand, she fell to the floor, or rather, she kneeled. Make that went down on one knee. Gazing up at me with nervousness and love all over her beautiful face.
I caught my breath when I saw the men’s ring she held between her thumb and index finger. “Holy shit, what are you doing, Ems?”
“Ben, I never, ever thought I wanted to get married again, but then you rescued me and my kids by taking us in. And then you rescued me again by loving me so patiently, wholeheartedly, purely, so I could finally, finally pull my head out and realize you’re my other half, and I don’t want to ever live without you. Will you marry me?”
“Get up here,” I said, tugging her off the floor and into my arms, overcome with lightness and pure euphoria. “I’ll marry you, Emerson,” I said, laughing. “I’ll marry you right fucking now if you want me to.”
I pulled her into my arms and wrapped her up in my love as tight as I could, then lifted her off the floor and turned us in a circle. When I set her back down, I gazed into her eyes, my face splitting with an elated grin.
“I love you, Emerson. I can’t believe you proposed. There’s never been a better Christmas present.”
“I love you too. Enough to propose. Phew, that was terrifying.”
“As if I could ever turn you down.”
“I’m so sorry I freaked out and ran away.”
“I’m sorry Kizzy let you down again. I’ll do everything I can not to. You and the kids are first in my life. All four of them.”
“Same.”
I pressed my palms to her cheeks, leaned down, and kissed her, trying to infuse everything in my heart into that kiss. Her body melted into mine, making my need for her pound through me.
“Can we get married as soon as possible?” she asked.
“Like, courthouse soon?”
She nodded. “I want it official before I move into your room. Because of the kids.”
“I’ll marry you the minute the courthouse opens,” I said with no hesitation. “Day after tomorrow. But I have my own condition.”
“Yeah?”
“Going to need you naked in my bedroom to show you how I feel,” I said, “in the next thirty seconds.”
She laughed. “Then you better whisk me in there and rip my clothes off.” She snapped her fingers. “I did the heavy lifting of proposing. Your turn for a little effort.”
I had her in my arms before she finished her sentence.
Once we were in my room, I said, “We’ll make this our new Christmas Eve tradition.”
As I whipped her sweater off and peeled her leggings down, she laughed.
“You were right from the start,” she said. “Traditions are the best. This one is my favorite.”