Sweet Dandelion

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

I finish my hair and apply my makeup, using a smoky gray around my whiskey-colored eyes and magenta on my lips. I’m normally more subdued in my makeup choices, but I feel like being adventurous today.

Ben comes back into the bathroom dressed in a pair of slim-fitting jeans and a maroon-colored sweater. He steps up to the other sink to try to tame his wavy hair.

Leaving him to finish up in front of the mirror, I move out of the bathroom and over to our walk-in closet.

I step into a pair of dark-wash jeans and pull an oatmeal-colored sweater over my head then add some bracelets to my wrists and my large gold watch. I opt for a pair of chestnut colored boots to dress up the look more.

By the time I step out of the closet, Ben has finished in the bathroom and is sitting on our bed waiting for me. Our Siamese cat, Winnie, sits on the bed beside him. She gives me a murderous look. I don’t know why, but that cat has always hated me.

I pick up my purse and fluff my hair.

Ben stretches and stands from the bed.

“Ready?” he asks, looking me over.

I nod. “Yes, but knowing me I’m probably forgetting something.”

“Pie.” He winks.

My blush returns, and I duck my head. I’ll never think of pie in the same way ever again.

We head downstairs and we each shrug into our coats. Ben locks up behind us, and then hurries to open the passenger door on his Mazda SUV for me.

“Thank you.” I smile graciously and slide inside.

He jogs around the front of the car to get in the driver’s side.

His blond hair sticks up from his brief jog, and I reach over to smooth it down. He smiles at me in appreciation.

He drives over to the local Wal-Mart and I sit in the car while he goes inside to get the pie. I feel bad that there are people working on the holiday when they should be with their families. It doesn’t seem fair.

Ben returns a few minutes later with a pecan and apple pie. Surprisingly, they don’t look that bad. He sits them in the back and starts the car.

“Ready?” He waggles his brows.

I laugh and smooth my hair back. “You bet.”

***

An hour later, he parks in the driveway of his mom’s house. It’s a decent size, Cape Cod style, with white siding and red shutters. A porch wraps around the front.

My parents used to live a few nei

ghborhoods away, but when I left for college, they decided to pack up and move to Florida. I can’t blame them since lately the Virginia winters have been brutal.

Ben slips from the car and grabs the plastic bag. He meets me at my side of the car and entwines our fingers together. He smiles down at me so big that his dimples make an appearance.

“Next Thanksgiving we’ll be husband and wife,” he says.

I smile as my stomach is flooded with warmth at the thought.

Ben. My husband. I love the sound of that. I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to call him that. He proposed to me our senior year of college, and I was the genius that decided it would be best to postpone the wedding until his residency was complete or close to it. I regret that now. I should’ve made him my husband a long time ago, but the day is fast approaching.

“Why do you want to marry me?” I ask him in jest.

He pauses on the porch and looks down at me. “Because I love you.”