Chapter Twenty-Seven
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Live, laugh, love Amia.
Wolfe
When my parents drop Amia off at Blackwood Brew, they find five blank whiteboards waiting for them. Dad pats me on the back before he loads them into his truck. Mom’s eyes well with tears as she pinches my cheek. They leave us with visibly lighter shoulders.
“Is Miss Leora here?” Amia asks when their taillights round the corner, officially gone.
“She’s not,” I answer. Regrettably. “I told her I needed to talk to you alone, so she went home, but, depending on how our conversation goes, we might be able to go get her when we leave the shop.”
Amia blinks at me. “You’re having a lot of alone talks today, Daddy. First Leora, and now me? What if we all just had a group talk instead?”
A bark of laughter shoots out of my mouth, unbidden, and she frowns. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise. It’s just that sometimes some conversations need to happen one-on-one, but your response makes me think our conversation won’t take very long.”
She sighs, cocks a hip out, and sets her hand on it in a perfect imitation of my mother when she wishes I would just get to the freaking point already. “If we can see Miss Leora after we talk, then I think we should start talking.”
I smile. “Okay,” I agree. “Let’s go to my office.”
She nods and twists on her heel, taking off in the direction of my office in a quick trot.
I follow, admiring my girl. She knows what she wants, and she’s making it happen. I should’ve paid more attention. I could’ve learned my lessons from her years ago.
Once in my treasured workspace, she takes her seat in my rolling chair and gestures to the couch.
I oblige.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s talk.”
My lips twitch, and I take a moment to compose myself before I get into things.
Once I’m certain I won’t laugh at my adorable, professional little girl, I start.
“I would like for Miss Leora to be around a lot more,” I tell her.
“In the sort of way where Miss Leora and I will be kissing. Would that be all right with you? If you’re uncomfortable with us having that sort of a relationship, I want you to tell me now, and know that she will still be here.
She will still be in your life. Even if we aren’t together like that, you’ll still get to have her as much as you want her. ”
Amia nods, hums, and gives a couple of well-timed, “Uh huh… uh huh… I see”s.
When I’m done speaking, she stands, holds a single finger up in a signal for me to wait, then bolts from the room.
When she returns, she carries her backpack.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” she says. “I’ve been working on this for ages. ”
From the backpack, she pulls a small cloth bag—one of the hundred tiny jewelry bags I bought in bulk for her to store her polished rocks in.
She upends the bag into her hand, and a small purple stone falls out.
Perhaps a bit less than a centimeter in diameter, the stone shines a pale lilac as she presents it to me.
“It’s for Miss Leora,” she says. “For when you’re ready to propose to her.
It needs the ring part, but I thought you could probably handle that.
I tried to find some metal to do it myself, but nobody would give me any without an explanation, and the project was secret, so I couldn’t give them one.
” She scowls. “Grampy even had a whole bunch of wire in his garage, but Gigi caught me when I was trying to sneak out to get some, and I had to go in time out for not following the rules. It was awful, and I didn’t even get the wire to make it worth it. ”
I… am going to cry. Or maybe I am crying. Maybe all I’ve ever done is cry, because my daughter is so sweet, and I have never once been able to handle it, especially not when she throws the full force of it at me like this.
I fight through the lump in my throat to say, “I’m not ready to propose yet, but when I am, I will be more than happy to use that stone. We can take it to the jeweler together to get it placed on a ring band.”
“It’s an amethyst,” Amia informs me. “That’s a gemstone, not a regular stone, and it’s her favorite color.” She lifts it, showing me. “See?”
“I see,” I reply, voice low with emotion. “You’re okay, then?” I ask. “With Miss Leora and me?”
She snorts. “Duh,” she says. “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? Do you think I’d tell you to kidnap somebody you aren’t supposed to marry?” She rolls her big, brown eyes. “Kidnappings are romantic. I told you that. And romantic stuff is for married people.”
I have nothing to say to that. She did tell me it was romantic. Several times, in fact.
“I might be a little dense,” I mutter.
Kindly, she does not agree… with her words. Her face, however, screams YES, YOU SURE ARE. “Here,” she says. “You take the amethyst. You’re going to need it soon.”
I let her set it in the palm of my hand, then close my fingers over it. “Not soon,” I correct. “We’re not going to rush anything.”
Amia sighs and shakes her head at me. “Daddy,” she says seriously. “You can’t wait too long. I’m motherless, you know. It would be irresponsible to leave me like this, and a Blackwood is not irresponsible.”
I bark at my own lesson being lobbed at me.
“Touché,” I say. “But you’re forgetting something.”
Her face scrunches. “What?”
I smile softly and ruffle her hair. “The good things are always sweeter when you have to wait for them.”