Page 94 of The Forever Christmas Tree

“My daughter has been giving me love advice for the past two weeks, ever since we first decided to come out here,” Ethan told Wendy as he finally opened his arms to embrace her.

But, no, she couldn’t allow that. “Don’t get any closer. I stink,” she told him.

“If you think I traveled ‘roughly three thousand miles’ to be put off by a little stink, you don’t know me, sweetheart.” Ignoring her order, he yanked her into his arms, stink and all, and kissed her. A hello kiss, but much more.

Through the buzz in her ears at the headiness of his kiss, she heard Cassie say, “Good touch, that ‘sweetheart,’ Dad.”

“Hide your eyes, Cass,” Ethan murmured against Wendy’s lips and deepened his kiss.

“No way! I’m learning things. Wow! This is a great picture I’m taking with my iPhone, but maybe you should take your hands off her butt. Can I put it on Instagram?”

Ethan removed his hands from her butt and set her away from him, but he still held her by the shoulders. Turning to his daughter, he said, “Don’t you dare!”

“I was just kidding. Jeesh! Who wants to see two old people kissing anyhow? It’s not like you’re Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson.”

She and Ethan both looked at Cassie with surprise. How would she know about the Fifty Shades of Grey actors?

“Have I mentioned that my daughter is almost-twelve going on twenty?”

Cassie just grinned, pleased with having disconcerted them. But then, she said, “Can we get on with this, Dad? I’m hungry.”

Ethan rolled his eyes, then dropped to one knee. Taking one of Wendy’s hands in his, he asked, “Wendy, will you marry me?”

Wendy was shocked. It was the last thing she’d expected.

“Daaaad! You said it wrong,” Cassie complained.

With a grimace, Ethan said, “Wendy, will you marry us?”

“Yeah, Wendy, will you marry us?” Cassie said.

Wendy was speechless for a moment, which Ethan interpreted as possible rejection; so, he launched into a pitch, which he must have practiced on the way here. “I love you, Wendy. I always have. Always will. Forever. If you won’t marry me, I’m chopping down that damn tree and burning it on the beach by the lighthouse. And then . . . and then I’ll probably move to friggin’ Alaska, or something.”

“I’m recording this, Dad. Maybe you shouldn’t swear.”

Without a clue as to how this relationship could possibly work, Wendy swiped at the tears that filled her eyes and said, “Yes.” That’s all, just yes. The love words would come later. The explanations for how this could possibly work out would come later. For now, love was the most important thing.

“You do know that I love you, too, don’t you, Ethan?”

“I hoped.” Ethan had tears in his eyes, too. After he slipped his great-grandmother Rutledge’s tiny diamond ring on her finger, the one he’d promised her twelve years ago, he kissed her softly to seal the deal.

And the weight of twelve years fell off them both.

Epilogue

And the wedding bells, they did ring, and ring, and ring . . .

Wendy Patterson and Ethan Rutledge were married on Saturday, July 6, in Bell Cove. It was considered the event of the year, next to the Grinch Christmas hoopla. The town used the wedding, which they considered theirs as much as the bride and groom’s, as an excuse to have an extended Fourth of July celebration. The décor was “patriotic nuptials.”

No invitations were needed; everyone came.

More than one resident was heard to say, “It’s about time!”

Or, “I always knew they would get together eventually.”

Or, “They were destined to be together. Everyone knows that.”

One person in particular mentioned something about “a Wendy kind of love” always winning in the end, whatever that meant.