Her friends leaned forward with identical expressions of intense interest.
Kathleen walked to the kitchen drawer where she kept her important papers. From the back, behind her homeowner’s insurance documents and the deed to the house, she withdrew a small velvet box. Her hands shook as she placed it on the table.
“Kathleen Armstrong,” Isabel breathed. “What did you do?”
“It’s not an engagement ring,” Kathleen said quickly, opening the box to reveal a simple but elegant silver band with a small Celtic knot design. “It’s a friendship ring. The jeweler explained that in Celtic tradition, these rings represent eternal bonds between people who matter to each other.”
Susan picked up the box, examining the ring with professional appreciation. “It’s beautiful. And perfect for Patrick.”
“I’ve been carrying it around for a week, trying to work up the courage to give it to him,” Kathleen admitted. “But every time I start to, I chicken out. What if he thinks it’s too much? What if I’m misreading our friendship? What if?—”
“What if he’s been hoping for exactly this kind of sign from you?” Lynda interrupted gently. “Kathleen, that man built you a garden. He didn’t do that because he thinks of you as just a friend.”
Isabel reached across the table and squeezed Kathleen’s hand. “Remember what you said at my wedding? About how you thought it was time to find out if you were a late bloomer?”
Kathleen nodded, remembering the conversation and the hope that had filled her heart that night.
“This is your moment,” Isabel continued. “Stop overthinking everything and follow your heart.”
Before she could lose her nerve, Kathleen slipped the ring box into her sweater pocket. “I’m going to do it.”
“Right now?” Susan asked.
“Right now.” Kathleen’s voice grew stronger with each word. “Before I can think of seventeen reasons why I shouldn’t.”
She walked to the back door, then paused with her hand on the knob. “What should I say?”
“The truth,” Lynda said simply. “Tell him what he means to you.”
Kathleen stepped onto the veranda, breathing in the scent of lavender and chamomile that drifted from the garden. Patrick was now beside the birdbath, adjusting its position to catch more morning sun. He looked up when he heard the door close, and his face brightened with the smile that had become as essential to her happiness as morning coffee.
“Good morning,” he called, wiping his hands on a work rag. “I hope you don’t mind me being here this early. I wanted to plant these herbs before it gets too hot.”
“It’s fine. I like seeing you here.” Kathleen walked along the brick pathway toward him. “Could I talk to you for a minute, Patrick?”
Something in her voice must have worried him, because his expression became concerned. “Of course, you can. Is everything all right?”
They stood beside the birdbath, surrounded by the garden he’d created for her. Kathleen heard the soft murmur of her friends’ voices from the kitchen window. Even though she didn’t know what they were saying, it made her feel more confident.
“I need to tell you something, Patrick,” she began, her heart hammering against her ribs. “About what this garden means to me. About what you mean to me.”
Patrick’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer. “Kathleen.”
“You built me a sanctuary,” she continued, the words coming easier now that she’d started. “Not just a garden, but a place where I can honor Florence and Miriam while finding peace for myself. You organized an entire community to help create something perfect. But more than that, you saw what I needed before I even knew I needed it.”
She reached into her pocket, her fingers closing around the velvet box. “You know how much I love you, but I’ve never shown you how much I care about you.”
“You don’t need to,” Patrick told her. “I see it in your smile, and the way you include me in everything you do.”
Kathleen took a deep breath. “I want to do more. You deserve more.” With trembling hands, she pulled out the jewelry box and opened the lid. “This is for you, Patrick. It’s a Celtic friendship ring. The lady in the store told me it represents an eternal bond between people who matter deeply to each other.”
Patrick stared at the ring, then at her face, his expression cycling through surprise, wonder, and something deeper that made her breath catch.
“But I have to warn you,” she said, her voice growing playful despite her nervousness. “If you accept this, you’d better be careful. I might decide to propose to you when you least expect it.”
For a moment, Patrick was utterly still. Then he threw back his head and laughed, a sound of pure joy that seemed to make the garden itself brighter. When he looked at her again, his eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“Kathleen Armstrong,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone to threaten to propose to me.”