“Got in late last night from Dallas. My folks are flying in tonight for the holidays. Vivian’s parents will also be here tomorrow.”
“You ready for the proposal?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He chuckles nervously. “It’s all planned; a walk through Central Park, same route we took on our first walk there together. I’ll get down on one knee at Bow Bridge. It’s her favorite spot.”
A warmth spreads through me at the mental image. Despite the mess of my own life, I can’t help but feel happy for my best friend. “I can’t wait to see the ring.”
“It’s a vintage princess cut diamond on a white gold band. One of those square ones. Vivian told me she doesn’t want a massive stone, so I’m hoping she’ll love it, even if I picked a larger diamond than she’s expecting.”
“I’m sure she’ll be the happiest woman in Manhattan. She’s been waiting for this moment, too, you know.”
“True,” Jasper comments. “Speaking of which, I got the gift for Ivy as requested.”
He flips open the jewelry box and guides my hand inside. Cool metal meets my fingertips as he settles the bracelet into my palm. I let my thumb drift across its surface, finding the two dangling charms.
“I’m pretty nervous about giving this to her tomorrow.”
“When Vivian and I spent our first Christmas together, I gave her a jewelry set as well. She still wears it regularly, telling me how it reminds her of those early days.”
The bracelet slips between my fingers. “But I’m not dating Ivy. Hell, I couldn’t even tell you what she looks like.”
“I’d be more than happy to give you a few details if you think it helps.”
It shouldn’t matter, even though I’ve been trying to picture her for the past few weeks. A big part of me wants to know more about the brilliant woman who has captured my attention. I nod as an answer.
“Let’s get away from this box they call your hospital room then,” Jasper suggests.
My head snaps toward his voice, brows lifting. The idea of leaving the room with him hadn’t even crossed my mind. “Where are we going?”
“Anywhere better than this sad place. I even got permission from the nurse station on the way in. I told them you needed to get out and I’d try to sneak you out the side door unless they gave me permission. They were cool with it.”
A ripple of anticipation stirs inside me. The last time I was out the neuro wing or physio was with Ivy, feeling the snow on myskin. The thought of moving beyond these four walls again makes my entire being feel lighter. “Let’s go then.”
I’m bundled into the wheelchair and wheeled down to the cafeteria. The air shifts from sterile to rich with the smell of coffee and fried food the closer we get. I inhale deeply, savoring it like I’ve just stepped into another world. Somewhere close by, a coffee machine hisses, followed by the metallic clink of coins dropping into a vending slot.
Jasper parks us at a table near the windows, the faint warmth of sunlight brushing across my skin. “Hang tight,” he says, clapping my shoulder before heading off. I listen to his retreating steps, the low rumble of his voice blending with the hum of conversation as he places the order.
My friend returns and presses a hot cup into my hand as he says, “so, about Ivy. You sure you wanna know?”
I curl my fingers around the warmth, my stomach knotting with both hesitation and excitement. “I’ve been trying to picture her, but I don’t have any real details. Not even her hair or eye color.”
“I can’t tell the exact shade of her eyes, but I’d put money on blue. What really stands out is her dark blue, medium length hair. It’s bold, a little edgy, and hard to miss.”
“It’s so easy to picture her with shock-colored hair,” I comment, liking the sound of the detail. It fits her personality to a T. “What else?”
“She has a lip ring and her right arm is covered in tattoos, ivy leaves winding all the way from her wrist to under the short sleeves of her scrubs.”
I sit back, momentarily overwhelmed. The image sharpens inmy mind, her laugh and her touch weaving with these new details. She’s no longer a blur in my imagination.
“Anything else?”
“She has a muscular build, but more in the confident way than the gym rat way. She carries herself well.”
A smile ghosts across my lips as pride wells up in me. “She races Ice Cross. You know, downhill skating with jumps and turns.”
“No kidding?” He whistles. “I met one of the well-known Finnish racers a few years ago and he showed me some tape. Mad respect.”
“That’s her thing. She trains year-round for it.”
