“He would,” she says. “Did he tell you he’s been sending money home since he signed his first contract?”
I blink. “No.”
“Well, he does.” She sighs. “Thinks we don’t know how much. We do. We tell him not to, but like you already said, he’s persistent. He’s always carrying everybody else on those big shoulders of his.”
Including me, I want to say, but I don’t.
“He’s lucky to have you,” I tell her.
“We’re lucky to have him,” she corrects gently. Then, she reaches across the island and wraps one of my hands in both of hers. “And now we’re lucky to have you, too.”
The kettle whistles. I blink hard and look away, suddenly not trusting my voice.
Hillary gets up and makes us both a cup of tea while I try to process everything. Then she returns with two mugs of tea and a plate of cinnamon rolls that smell like butter and sugar and childhood memories I never had.
“So,” she says, sliding the plate toward me, “you told me how you met. Now I need to know how he proposed.”
Panic spikes low in my stomach. We did not rehearse this part.
I open my mouth, scrambling for something plausible, when salvation arrives in the form of six-foot-two of oblivious timing.
“She’s interrogating you already, huh?” Scottie says from the doorway, a grin firmly in place. “I smelled the cinnamon rolls and figured it was safe to come in.”
“Just getting to know my new daughter-in-law,” Hillary says. “I was asking about the proposal. I hope you weren’t a caveman about it.”
“I was charming,” he protests, crossing to us. He drops a quick kiss on the top of my head—a simple gesture that sends my pulse spinning. He mentioned that he’s going to be affectionate, and now meeting his family, I realize why he has to be. It would be unusual if we didn’t touch. “It wasn’t anything fancy. Katerina flew into Seattle to visit, and I picked her up from the airport. And the second I saw her, I just… knew.”
Hillary’s eyes immediately well up. “Knew what?” she whispers.
“That I wanted to marry her,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He looks down at me, and there’s something in hisgaze that tells me he’s not making it up. In a way… he isn’t. “So I said, ‘Guess we’re getting married.’”
“That can’t be it,” Hillary says, unhappy with her son’s lack of finesse in the proposal. “You didn’t even kneel? No speech? No ring hidden in a pastry? Scottie James, I raised you better thanthat.”
“I thought it was romantic,” I hear myself say.
They both turn to look at me.
“You did?” Hillary asks, surprise and delight mixing in her voice.
“Yes,” I say, forcing myself not to look away from him. “It was very… him. Honest. Direct. No games. He knew what he wanted, and it was me. Some men spend years dragging their feet, but Scottie didn't want to lose me because of an expired visa. What’s more romantic than that?”
His smile softens in a way I haven’t seen yet. A new Scottie smile unlocked. Like I’ve peeled back a layer, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with that.
“See?” he says, eyes still locked on mine. “She gets me, and that’s why I didn’t want to wait another day to marry her.”
Hillary tsks, but she’s smiling. “Well, at least let me see the ring again so I can forgive you.” She extends her hand.
I offer her mine. She sucks in a breath.
“Oh my God. Scottie, this is gorgeous. You did very well.”
“I had help,” he says.
“From who?” I ask. I never did get around to asking about how the ring came about.
“Luka,” he tells me. “He helped me pick it out after I saw you in that dress at the bridal salon.”
“You bought that ring after you saw me,” I say quietly, Scottie’s eyes on me as if he’s trying to tell me something about the moment he saw me for the first time in my wedding dress.
