Chapter 31
Was there anything in the world as intoxicating as the taste of Millie’s lips?
Ernie could hardly believe it was real, but here she was, kissing him with all the fury and fire she possessed.
It was a sweet smolder like fine whiskey, smooth and potent, burning away his inhibitions.
They were in public, some distant corner of his mind reminded him.
They could be seen or photographed. And yet he couldn’t stop. He’d never been able to stop with her.
“Hey, get a room,” a surly voice interrupted.
They pulled apart, laughing and blushing. A burly, balding man in a trench coat gave them a disapproving side-eye before moving on.
Ernie offered his arm. “Let’s walk, shall we?”
She took his arm, and they hurried together into the quieter paths of the park.
“I missed you terribly,” Ernie said as strolled along a shadowy lane.
Flecks of snow began to fall, swirling in the beams of light from the streetlamps that lit their way.
“I missed you too,” Millie said, squeezing his arm.
Then why did you leave me? he couldn’t help thinking.
“I owe you an apology,” she said as if she could read his mind. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I can see that now. I only made a bad situation worse.”
He’d been aching to hear those words, but now that she’d said them, none of it mattered. His heart forgave in an instant, despite the pain she’d caused him.
“All that matters now is that we’re together, no matter what Mr. Burleson does to us next.”
She laughed.
“I still can’t believe you made Mr. Burleson give me back my job,” she said, looking up at him adoringly.
“And I can’t believe you put on a whole air show to make him give me back mine.”
She looked down, and her cheeks reddened. “It was the least I could do after being so cruel to you.”
He stopped and turned towards her.
“Millie,” he said, tilting up her chin with his finger. “You were afraid. That’s completely understandable. I don’t blame you for what you did.”
As he said the words, he realized they were true. He was heartbroken, but he couldn’t bring himself to hold it against her, especially not now.
“Really, I don’t.” He caressed her cheek. “All that matters is that we’re together again.”
He wanted to kiss her, but he was afraid if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. And tonight, he had special plans. It was a night for romance, not seduction.
Releasing her chin, he placed her hand on his arm again, and they continued their walk. The lights of the ice rink appeared in the distance.
They walked in contented silence as the noise and music of the rink grew louder. A small brass band was playing Christmas carols, and half the rink was singing along.
Ernie loved the way she hung on his arm as they waited in line to rent skates. Her mere presence seeped into him and warmed his heart. There was some invisible connection between them, cocooning them. He could feel every movement she made as if she was an extension of him.
They reached the front of the line and rented their skates—plain black and much abused. They smelled of odor-eating powder. Millie looked delighted.
Ernie led her over to a bench and knelt before her.
Her eyes widened.
“Let me,” he said, carefully unbuttoning her pristine boots and sliding them off her silk-stockinged foot. Tenderly, he placed her foot into an old beat-up skate and laced her up, taking time to caress her ankle and calf as he went.
She giggled as he repeated the treatment on her other foot. “So gallant, good Sir Pritchard. If you keep this up, I might grant you a kiss.”
I’m hoping for a better prize by far than a kiss.
He finished tying her laces and hurried to put on his own skates. They wobbled to the rink, laughing the whole way.
“You know how to skate, right?” he asked.
“Barely, but I think I can at least stay upright.”
“My God, have I finally found something you aren’t good at?”
She laughed. “There are lots of things I’m not good at.”
They stepped onto the ice and joined the crowd skating in circles. He skated backwards so that he could hold her hands as she wobbled along.
“Like what?”
“You already know I can’t decorate a cake to save my life.”
He steered them around a family of small children.
“I’ll grant you that. What else?”
“I’m not very good at keeping my temper.”
She wobbled, and he caught her before she fell.
“I’ve learned that the hard way,” he said with a laugh. “Your temper is a part of who you are, and I love every part of you.”
“Why are we going into the middle? Shouldn’t we stay by the sides where I can grab the wall if I need it?”
“You’ll see.”
He pulled her away from the crowd and into the center of the ice, where several talented ice dancers graciously gave way, and he brought them to a halt, bending down on one knee.
The ice was cold and hard beneath him, and his knee was quickly getting soaked. But he didn’t care. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his grandmother’s engagement ring.
Looking up into Millie’s eyes, he asked, “Millie Aldrich, will you marry me?”
Most of the movement around the rink paused as everyone stopped to watch. Even the band paused their music.
For a long moment, she didn’t answer. Had he miscalculated? Was it too soon?
Panic gripped him as he knelt before her on the increasingly uncomfortable ice, ring held aloft.
“Please, Millie,” he murmured, trying to read the complex emotions playing over her face.
“Yes,” she whispered at last, eyes wide. “Yes,” she said more loudly, a smile breaking across her face.
The crowd burst into applause as he took off her glove and slid on the ring before sliding the glove back over it.
Standing up carefully, he pulled her into a kiss, and the band struck up with the wedding march as hoots and hollers surrounded them.
He had a giant wet patch on his knee, and he was certain he’d bruised it. But none of that mattered.
She said yes!
The famous Millie Aldrich was going to marry plain old Ernie Pritchard from Brooklyn.
He placed her hand on his arm, and together they skated around the rink, reveling in the congratulations from the crowd.
“Well, future Mrs. Pritchard, how do you feel?”
“Madly in love,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him. “And slightly terrified.”
Seeing the slight furrow in her brow, he led her over to the exit from the rink. “I’d like to buy you a hot chocolate, my love, and perhaps you can tell me what has you scared.”
If she had any lingering fears about him, he wanted to put them to rest as soon as possible.
Buying two hot chocolates from a vendor in a tiny kiosk, he led her to a vacant picnic table and sat down beside her.
“Now, what is it that has you worried?”
She took a sip of her hot chocolate and looked around at everything but him.
“I’ve been here before, you know. I said yes only to have my heart broken.”
Barney. Ernie wished he could punch the man in the face for what he’d done to her.
“Listen to me,” he said, taking her hand and catching her eye. “I would never, ever betray you. I am utterly yours for life.”
Something melted in her gaze. “I know. And that’s why I said yes. You aren’t Barney. You’re honest, and I trust you. Even when I disapproved of what you were doing, you were never dishonest with me. You never hid things from me. I know you won’t lie to me.”
“I swear, Millie, you can trust me with your heart. I won’t let you down.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, praying she would believe him.
“I know, and I do.” She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his. “I love you enough to let you in despite my hesitation. You have my heart for better or worse.”
Ernie smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, until death us to part?”
“Yes, all of that. I promise.”
He pressed a light kiss on her lips, his heart pounding so loudly he could hardly hear himself think.
“And so do I.”
She took hold of his collar and pulled him into a deep, soul-searching kiss.
Opening himself, he let all the love he felt for her spill out and let her fierce love flow into him.
It was more than a kiss, it was a joining, a melding together.
When she finally released him, he felt transformed into something new, something better.
“We need to find a hotel room,” she said, panting as she released him.
He was about to argue when he noticed exactly how tight his pants had gotten.
“I swear I didn’t set out to get you into bed tonight. I wanted to—”
“Ernest Pritchard, we are getting a room, or so help me God, I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” He grinned wickedly.
She rolled her eyes. “Cad.”
“You obviously like cads.”
He rose to his feet, grateful that his coat hid the evidence of his intense arousal.
“We’ve got to get out of these skates,” said Millie, wobbling dangerously as she stood up.
They hobbled back over to their shoes and rushed through changing into them.
As they returned their skates, the man at the rental stand said, “Congratulations!”
The snow was picking up. People were starting to leave as the light sprinkle turned to heavy flurries.
“We need to get out of this storm,” Ernie said, putting a protective arm around Millie.
“The Plaza Hotel is right around the corner. Let’s go there.”
He was thinking the same thing, even though it was likely to burn a hole in his pocket he wouldn’t recover from anytime soon.
They ran through the storm into the palatial lobby, filled with potted palm trees and soaring arches.
“We need a room, please,” Ernie said, praying one was available.
“Do you have a reservation?” asked the man at the front desk in his spotless suit.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“Hmm. Let me see.” The man looked through an enormous ledger book, drawing his finger down a regimented line of room records. “It seems you’re in luck. We were booked solid this evening, but we had a cancellation in room 325. It has two twin beds. Will that do for you and your wife?”
Ernie grinned at the word. It wasn’t true yet, but it would be soon enough.
Beside him, Millie started laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Ernie asked.
“Well, it’s the Brockerhoff all over again. A snowstorm, one room, two twin beds… It’s fitting somehow.”
“We’ll take it,” Ernie said. She was right. It wasn’t just fitting. It was perfect.
“Very good, sir. That will be twenty dollars.”
Ernie opened his pocketbook and paid up. He’d expected an expensive night tonight, so he was prepared.
“And if you could just sign your names in the guest register,” the man said, gesturing to a leather-bound volume with creamy, close-ruled pages and handing Ernie a fountain pen.
Ernie signed Mr. and Mrs. Ernest Pritchard.
“Thank you, sir. Here is your room key. The elevators are right over there.”
Heading over to the elevators, he told the operator, “Third floor, please.”
“Yes, sir. Going up.”
If they didn’t have an audience, Ernie would have kissed Millie into oblivion right then, but he had to wait.
As soon as they stepped out and the elevator door closed behind them, they broke into a run, laughing as they went.
Ernie fumbled with the key in his excitement to get the door open.
“Here. Let me,” Millie said, sliding the ornate key with a tassel into the keyhole and turning it.
The door opened, and Ernie swept her off her feet, carrying her over the threshold and kicking the door closed behind him.
Alone at last.