It Happened on Maple Street

Now Emily wanted kids? They weren’t even married yet. And . . .

“You’re graduated now,” she said.

Yeah, well, college graduation was one hell of a long way from fatherhood. He didn’t have his camper yet. And everyone knew you couldn’t take babies camping in a tent.

Didn’t they?

He’d never seen anyone with a baby in a tent.

Not that he’d looked, but . . .

“When I moved into the house you said . . .”

When her voice faded off, he thought back. And remembered saying something about not wanting to move in with her while he was still in college.

And she’d remembered.

Of course.

“We were talking about living together.”

“No, you were talking about living together. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to live with you until you’re my husband. I want to know, when I get in the bed with you every night, that it’s forever.”

That didn’t surprise him.

“I get that. And I agree.” In theory. “I just don’t want to run off and do something before we’re ready.”

“We’ve been dating for two years, Tim. We’ve been lovers for most of that time. And you don’t know yet if you want to marry me?”

Her tone was his clue. “Of course I know I want to marry you,” he said quickly. What he knew was that he didn’t want to lose her.

He didn’t want to hurt her.

And he didn’t want to lie to her, either.

“I just . . . give me a little time to get settled in my job, first. I’m not big on the idea of being a kept husband. Nor do I want to go into this dependent on you. I need to be bringing home money, too.”

“You will be starting Monday.”

“We have no idea if I’ll even like the job once I get in there.”

Emily sat forward, and his arm fell back to his side. “Look, Cowboy,” she said, her arms on her knees as she stared toward the fire. “I bought it when you said you wanted to wait until graduation. But now that’s here and you’re just making more excuses . . .”

“No,” he interrupted before she could issue the ultimatum he heard coming. He didn’t deal well with ultimatums. Especially ones he couldn’t comply with.

“It’s not like that at all. I’m only twenty-two, Em. Once we’re married I take on my share of the financial obligations. I need to know that I’ll have the money to make good on that. I want to marry you. Hell . . .”

He got down on one knee, his beer bottle still in his hand when he grabbed her hand and cupped it between his—with the beer an awkward guest. “Emily, will you marry me?”

“Stop it, Tim. Don’t make fun of . . .”

“I’m not making fun, Emily. I swear it. I’m asking you to marry me. I just want to wait to set the date until my probationary period is up at work and I have benefits and job security.”

“How long is that?” Her look was skeptical, but she hadn’t pulled her hand away. And her lips had softened into a half smile.

“Ten months.” When he felt the beginning of a jerk on the hand he held, he added, “But I’ll buy you a ring, now. Well, when I get my first paycheck. Assuming it’s enough to cover my expenses. But if it’s not, I’ll get it as soon as I’ve saved enough. Hell, now that I’m employed full time I should be able to get a credit card. Not that I want to rack up debt, but . . .”