“Hey, I’m giving it to you straight.”
Mason shook his head. After all this time, his parents were still crazy about each other, so they got something right.
“We’ve done so much, though, Dad. That’s the thing. There was never really a time when she wasn’t around. How do you sift through a lifetime of memories and decide which one means the most?”
“You’ve got a unique situation. I do know she’s a traditional girl, so you should ask G
ary’s permission before you pop the question.”
“Crap, you’re right.”
He chuckled. “It’s good seeing you like this.”
“What? Out of my depth?”
“No. Growing and full of purpose. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Petunia. Which is why I know whatever you come up with is going to be perfect for the two of you. Trust your gut and don’t overcomplicate things.”
They pulled up into the driveway of the home he now shared, and he grinned. I’m one step closer to owning your heart, girl. You just don’t know it yet.
Step 5: The Proposal
Petunia
What a difference a few weeks made. His things were blended among hers, his address change had taken root, and they were closer than ever before. She liked having Mason around more than she should. She ran her hands through his hair and admired him in sleep. Her days started anywhere from four-thirty to six-thirty depending on what she had to do. He wouldn’t wake until closer to eight. Some days they were like two ships passing in the night, but the solid feel of his body against hers and the way he worshiped her body were all very real. Saturdays usually started with a lazy morning love making, but today she had other plans. Kissing him on his forehead, she stood and quietly walked from the room. He’d been working insane hours, getting the store ready for its grand opening.
While exhausted, he was happier than she’d seen him in a long time. His relationship with his father was on the mend, the store was shaping up to be amazing, and he seemed content with their progression. She was disoriented. The line between reality and fiction was blurred, and her heart was completely invested in the concept of them. Every day he charmed her a little more, and she fell harder. The thought of a divorce hurt. It had her wanting to pump the brakes. But how could she?
It had all worked like a dream. Slowly but surely, Bunch-A-Blooms was getting new equipment, and they planned to talk about partnership and expansion later in the year. It should be perfect. And yet, it’s not enough, because it’s fake, and it eats me up because I want forever. Today she planned to come clean to the one woman she’d been putting off telling. She made a cup of coffee in the Keurig, grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter, and left the house, admiring the chilly February morning. The drive to the retirement home was made in silence as she sipped on the Colombian brew and rehearsed her words.
Her Gran had always been an early riser, and she wanted to catch her alone, so being there for the start of visiting hours was a must. It was a good problem to have. These days too many of the elderly were left with little to no family they saw on a regular basis. She pulled into the parking lot and said a prayer of thanks that she was too old to have a switch taken to her behind. The honeysuckle bush at her home had once been an enemy to her and her sisters. Exiting the vehicle, she made her way inside to the front desk.
“Well, hello there, Ms. Lambert. Where’s that cute stud of yours?” The gray-haired nurse with twinkling brown eyes and a round face made her smile.
“Still home sleeping in Marlene. He’s working on opening a new store, and it’s got him running on fumes.”
“Poor thing. Your grandparents are enjoying their coffee in the mess hall. They’ve had their breakfast and their morning medication, so they’ll be good for a while. They usually participate in craft time, which will start in the next fifteen minutes, though.”
Perfect. I’ll tell Papa I need some woman talk.
“Thank you, Marlene,” she said as she signed in and walked through the well-lit facility. She liked how bright it was—it made it seem more like a home and less like a waiting place for the end. The smell of coffee, bleach, and disinfectant pleased her; it meant they kept things tidy.
She spotted the couple at a table in front of the window. Papa saw her first and lifted his hand in a wave as he grinned.
“Well look what the morning brought in,” he exclaimed.
“Hey, Papa. Gran.” She bent to hug him and moved to her Gran.
“Hi, baby.” Her Gran gave her a quick squeeze.
“Papa, I don’t want to kick you out, but I need some lady advice.”
“Say no more, pumpkin. I got a game of Bingo calling my name.”
Gran rolled her eyes. “Don’t you be betting with David. That man has the luck of the devil.”
“No more than ten dollars, I promise,” her grandpa replied as he stood and made his way out of the room.
“What’s on your mind, baby? I figured you’d be home shacked up with Mas.” She didn’t voice her disapproval of living together before marriage, but it was heard. She had a way of holding to her own beliefs without condemning you for those that differed.