And then another.
What the hell—I steal one more.
On Sunday, the day of the week, according to my mother, that Poppy Montgomery made her debut on this spinning blue rock and I was privileged to hold her hand for the very first time, I bring Pops out to the old oak tree with me.
“My—what a big hammer and a chisel you have,” she says in her best Little Red Riding Hood voice.
“The better to love you with.” It’s a lame comeback, but in a moment she’ll hopefully see what I mean.
“Wow, Stade, that sounds like I need to have a baseball on standby.”
“Only if you want to help. But I’m pretty sure a bat might be counterproductive.”
We come upon the tree and I pat my hand along the trunk, and a flurry of snow rains down from the branches.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m doing what I should have done when I was eleven, and I was tempted to do it then.” I take the chisel and tap out the shape of a heart right in the center of our old friend.
“Jax,” Poppy purrs like a kitten. “You are such a romantic!”
I give a sly smile as I carve her initials, then mine.
“Can I?” She holds out her hand, and I give her the tools. Carefully, Poppy carves out a plus sign between our initials. “There. Now when we look at it years from now, we’ll always know it was me who pulled the whole thing together.”
A laugh thumps through me. “You do have a way of saving the day.” I tip her chin up gently with my finger. “You saved me. I mean it with all of my being. In fact”—I drop to the snow on one knee, my eyes still trained on hers—“I can’t risk a day without you by my side.” I pull the ring from my pocket and hold it between the two of us like a fallen star I’ve captured just for her. It’s a five-carat flawless emerald cut diamond that I’m pretty sure qualifies as an otherworldly treasure. It’s showy and perhaps slightly overdone. I’m sure Poppy would have wanted something far more meager, but I have the urge to give her the moon. I can’t help it. I love her. I want her to have it all. I would have gladly made it ten times bigger if I knew there was half a chance she’d wear it. “Eight Ball, would you do me the honor of being my wife? Will you marry me, Poppy?”
She lands on her knees, thankfully dropping the weaponry that I inadvertently armed her with.
“Oh God.” She cups her hand over her mouth. “Gordo!” Tears spout from the corners of her eyes as she begins to sob.
“Well?” a female voice shouts from the bushes as our mothers make their presence known. I may have alerted them to the fact that a proposal would be going down this evening. I couldn’t let them miss out on the biggest moment of their lives, now, could I? “What’s it going to be?” Mom screams as if her life depends on the answer. Mine does.
Poppy tips her head to the side, her loving gaze still set to mine. “It’s going to be yes.” She nods as tears stream down her cheeks. “A thousand times,yes!”
“She said yes!” Char shouts into the lavender sky as evening falls over Oak Grove.
Our mothers whoop it up, howling into the evening as they dance up a storm.
“Thank you,” I whisper over her lips as our mouths fuse over one another.
Poppy said yes.
First, she was my friend, then my first and only love, and one day soon she’ll be my bride, my entire universe, my bright future.
Poppy pulls back with her eyes still half-closed, ignoring the fact our mothers are trotting up and down the driveway like a couple of turkeys screaming their heads off.
“I always knew you would one day be mine.” Her lips glow a deep red from our fevered kiss. “And here we are. One day finally arrived.”
I press a kiss to the ring as I hold it up to her. “There’s something inscribed on the inside.”
“Really?” She trembles with a laugh. “Let’s see if my naked eyes are spry enough to decipher what it says.” I hand her the ring, and she squints into it. “To Eight Ball, love Gordo.” Poppy bites down on her lip to keep from bawling that much harder. “You really are my best friend, you know that?”
“Lucky me.” I press a kiss to her finger as I slip on the ring. “Does that mean you’ll go out for mojitos with me while you trash talk your husband?”
“Very funny. And I would never do such a thing because you’re too wise to give me reason to.”
“You got me there.” I take a gentle bite out of her lower lip and stretch it out slow. “You’re my best friend, too, Pops. And I mean it.” I pick up her left hand and kiss it. “My mother told me that when she brought me into the hospital room the night you were born, she placed your left hand in mine and brought it to my lips.”
