“I love it.”
“Hold me like that forever, George. Promise?”
George thought back to what they had just done in the bedroom. He had held Mikey in his arms the entire time. At one point, hadn’t he even thought of Mikey as a buckingbull?
“Count on it,” he answered. “What’s this?”
Beneath the pendant had been a tiny, folded piece of paper. He picked it up.
“It’s the fortune from that cookie you gave me... the one that Mr. Chang left behind.”
George unfolded the tiny piece of paper and read it aloud:“Be patient. Love is near... and well worth waiting for.”
“I thought it might be you, George. I was hoping it would be you.”
George looked at Mikey, eyes moist, remembering what Tyler had said earlier. “It is me,” he said.
“No tears. It’s Christmas, remember?”
“Yes, it is. Yours is not wrapped. I hope that’s OK?”
Mikey looked at him—then his eyes widened with comprehension. “Oh,that. OK. I’m ready for another round if you are.”
He stood, but George stopped him, laughing. “No, Mikey. No. That’s not what I meant. Although I am getting my second wind, so we’ll get back to that. But sit down first, let me get your gift.”
George stood, but instead of reaching under the Christmas tree, he went past it, down the hall to where his discarded pants still lay. He reached into one of the front pockets and retrieved a small box. When he returned, he didn’t sit.
“I was going to give you this tonight at the restaurant. But I changed my mind.”
Mikey looked at him curiously.
He went down on one knee, opening the box to reveal two simple gold bands. “Mikey Napolitano, will you marry me?”
George waited, watching Mikey who was dumbstruck. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t seen Mikey this stunned since the day he had first given him Mr. Chang’s final fortune cookie—utterly speechless.
“I understand if it’s too soon,” George continued. “And if you say yes, we can be engaged for as long as you need. No rush. But several things brought me to this decision, namely that life is short, and people waste too much time—time they take for granted. I’m not going to do that. Not anymore. I just wanted you to know that I’m readywheneveryou are.
Mikey smiled, tears sprang. “Yes, George. Of course, I’ll marry you. I can’t imagine not being with you. The more I’m here, the less I want to go back to Baltimore. I don’t even want to go tomorrow.”
George laughed, kissing him through tears. “Well, we have to. We promised your mother. But we can also tell her. I think she’ll be happy to hear it.”
When they settled a bit, Mikey looked at George slyly, putting pieces together.
“So, you didn’t want to steal Tyler’s thunder—” he said, “—at the restaurant tonight?”
George nodded. “Yeah. He’s a widower too. We talked a little, about loss, getting back on the horse—no pun intended—and what’s important in life. Then he sang the saddest, most hopeful, Christmas song imaginable, and proposed to Alec in front of everyone. I mean, how do you follow that?!”
“You come home, make love to me, then propose privately in front of a fire, and a Christmas tree, and Jimmy Stewart—who is crying now too.”
George set the ring box down on the table, reaching for the remote and turning the television volume down. He joined Mikey back on the couch.
“Tyler told me that Alec is his light. That he was in a dark place and that Alec had brought him out of it... guided him to a happier life with less grief. You do the same for me, Mikey. I hope you know that.”
“I suspected... but I know for sure now that you’ve told me. In case you haven’t noticed—” he said, with a grin, “—I’m a little slow on the uptake.”
“I don’t buy that at all. I think you mask your insecurity with crude charm. Though less with me than others because you’re getting used to being with me.”
“I’ll say.”
