We moved in a few months ago. It was the biggest thing either of us has ever done. For me it was finally having a place that’s mine. It was proving to myself that I can make a life for myself and for Claire and help us start our future. Not only that, but it was a physical structure to put meaning to the wordhome —something that, for most of my life, never even existed. And I would have never made it here without her.
Or Sean.
Claire and I lived together in her apartment for a while until it was time to invest in something bigger. It just so happens that at the same time, Sean’s parents decided to sell their house in Maple Grove and stay on the road permanently —with Sean’s blessing of course. He always said it was too much house for him anyway. Instead, he moved to a spacious two-bedroom apartment downtown and when his parents were ready to sell, he suggested that they bypass the grueling market and give it to his favorite couple to rent-to-buy.
So, now Claire and Ilive in that quiet neighborhood, a few streets from Enzo’s. We have a light gray house with a white porch around the front, flower boxes, and atealwooden door.
And Sean has officially paid his debt to me.
He had one last Fourth of July cookout here and then passed the keys to us. It’s now been a few weeks and we’re pretty much settled in, so we (Claire), figured it was time for a little housewarming party.
I still can’t believe I get to call this place home with the most amazing person I have ever met. If you would have told me over a year ago that I would be inviting all of my favorite people to a party for the home I share with Claire, I would have told you to kick fucking rocks. But here I am, and it’sthe perfect excuse to gather all of the people that we love without ruining the surprise.
I get to the garage and I stop to take it in, like I always do. It’s small and unorganized for now, but it’s the perfect size for a car I hope to one day have in here. When we were looking at the house, it was actually Claire who suggested it. I always left the repairing I do at Monroe’s and thought one day I’d just buy a hotrod that was ready for the road, but she reminded me that I’m good at putting things back together that were once not at their best. I did it for myself and now, I hope to one day rebuild something that has been tossed aside and make it something special.
I scan the shelves for the plate that Claire needs and eventually find it with the other miscellaneous items that don’t yet have a place inside. I grab it and head back to the house, but not before also grabbing the little white box in the back of the first drawer of my tool chest.
I open it and take a deep breath looking at the ring inside for the millionth time. When I asked Claire’s parents for their permission to marry her, her dad had a million questions of course, all of which I was prepared for, but her mom simply left the table. At first, I was concerned. Is she that upset that her daughter may spend the rest of her life with me? But that changed when she came back with this. A solid gold band with a ribbon of small diamonds swirled around one large one in the center — Claire’s grandmother’s ring.
I had never seen something so nice, so expensive. I had never seen a family heirloom before. But where my family was the type to pass on only generational trauma, Claire’s family is the type to pass on these types of meaningful and beautiful things. The type of family I will soon be a part of officially.
Or at least I hope so.
I tuck the ring box in my sock under my jeans and take the plate inside. Stepping through the back door and looking into the living space and kitchen, I look around and see Zeke talking with Claire’s parents, and Sean and Rick goofing around with the other guys from the shop. I seeRonan and Mikey checking out Jackson’s new tattoo. And then I see Claire.
Her hair is down in soft waves around her perfect face, her freckles on full display from the summer sun. Her cheeks are flushed from the warmth of the oven as she dances around Chloe to pull out another tray. She throws her head back to laugh, her sundress swaying from the movement, and I’mstillcompletely mesmerized by her.
“Jay!” she calls when she sees me and I’m instantly nervous like she can suddenly see inside my sock. “Just put that here. I have a surprise for you.” I relax just slightly. Here I thought surprises were my thing today.
“Jay Bird,” Chloe says when she sees me.
“Chloe,” I say back. She wraps one arm around my waist and hugs me from the side as Claire leaves the kitchen. I do the same and lean my head against the top of hers in an embrace. Chloe and I have gotten much closer this past year. She has a tough exterior, but she’s total mush on the inside — much like some other people I know.
Claire comes in from the front porch with a large cardboard box. I take it from her and put it on the counter.
“I just got a text that they came,” she says shakily and I assume it’s from the weight of the box until I realize what’s inside.
“Oh, no shit!” I say loudly. They both slap me from either side of my body.
“Shh!” Chloe whispers.
“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it,” Claire says.
“Make a big deal about what?” Sean yells from the living room, grabbing the attention of all the other guests. So much for being discreet.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Claire calls back, but at this point, all of our family and friends have gathered around the perimeter of the kitchen to see the mystery inside the box.
“It’s okay,” I whisper into Claire’s ear. “This is everyone who loves you. Now’s the perfect time.” And I’m not sure if I’m saying it more to her or to myself.
She nods back at me and grabs scissors from the kitchen drawer. Sliding the blade down the middle, she opens the box and pauses.
Chloe, who is absolutely too short to see inside, just squeals with pure excitement for her friend. I grab Claire’s hand below the counter and give it a quick squeeze to let her know I’m there.
Wherever you are,I think.
Claire takes a deep breath in and pulls out a book with a blue and yellow cover that reads, “The Adventures of Alice and Owen.” She exhales, rubbing her thumb along the bottom text:Claire Dawson.
“Wait what’s that?” Sean calls out.
