“I would like your permission to marry your daughter,” he said to both of them. “I think you know how I feel about her. And I think you can be confident that I will take care of her.”
Jonah and Daphne shared a long look. Really long. Too long? Micah suddenly got nervous.
“If you’re worried about the life-“
“We aren’t worried about anything. We know you love her, son,” Jonah said, and Micah, to his great embarrassment, felt tears burn in his eyes. Son. No one had called him that since his mother. “We’re just really happy you came along to give her a second chance.”
“You absolutely have our blessing,” Daphne said. “Do you have a ring?”
“Daphne?” Jonah said. “Of course he has a ring.”
He did not have a ring. He didn’t think a ring was all that important. Helen was not a woman who needed diamonds.
Shit. Was she?
“It’s been…well, it’s been busy.” Daphne was shaking her head in total disappointment. “I don’t know—I thought she’d want to pick something out.”
“Lame,” Daphne said.
Jonah scooched his wife off the arm of his chair and got to his feet. He opened the safe under the desk and took out a black velvet box.
“Oh, Jonah,” Daphne sighed.
“This was my mother’s ring,” Jonah said. “It is not fancy. Patrick could not afford fancy. But she wore it every day of her life. And I’ve been waiting for a chance to pass it on to someone. I want you to understand you can replace it with something flashier, but you can’t propose empty-handed, son. You just can’t.”
He handed the black velvet box to Micah, who carefully opened it.
It wasn’t fancy. But it was perfect. A small diamond in a simple setting.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his throat clogged with tears. “This means so much.”
They came around the desk to hug him and it wasn’t the first time they’d done it. They were, after all, a very huggy family. But it felt different.
He had their blessing and he was grateful
Step Two was the Riverview Inn. He’d enlisted Alice to make pancakes and bacon, and when he arrived she was just finishing it up. Plating it and putting one of those silver domes over it. She’d also dipped strawberries in chocolate and put coffee in a carafe.
There was also a cold bottle of champagne.
“Alice?” he asked. “What do you think is going to happen this morning?”
“Look, Micah. Do you know how many proposals I’ve been a part of at this inn? Dozens. I know the look. Good luck. I’m rooting for you. Now go before my food gets cold.”
“We’re ah…not going to need the champagne,” he said. “I don’t drink and she’s…”
She shook her head at him, her lips twisted in a knowing smile. She turned the bottle so he could see the label. “Sparkling juice,” he read. “How…?”
She tapped the side of her head.
“Thank you,” he said. “I need Bea.”
“Bea!” Alice shouted, and the little girl came barreling through the kitchen’s swinging door, her cousin Stella on her tail.
“How was the sleepover?” he asked her as she jumped into his arms.
“Great. We made chocolate dipped strawberries.” Her mouth was covered in chocolate.
“Awesome.” He gave her a squeeze and set her down. “Can you help me carry this stuff?”
“Sure!” She took the fizzy juice and he took the tray with everything else and they walked from the kitchen of the Riverview down the path to Cabin Nine.
He didn’t care if they eloped or got married at the Riverview or in Madison Square Garden. He didn’t care if they got married tomorrow or next year. But he was going to be her husband. And a father to Bea.
And to the baby they’d made in a bathroom backstage in Rome.
She was two months pregnant and deeply morning sick. When the tour was finishing, he’d reached out to Alice to see if there were any cabins free for them to rent, just to recuperate and relax, and she put them up in Cabin Nine. Bea had been bopping from grandparents to cousins to aunts and uncles, and he and Helen had been sleeping.
“Mom’s going to love this,” Bea said with total assurance.
Bea was, without a doubt, the best partner in crime a guy could have and an absolute gem of a human. He watched her, marching beside him toward the cabin, her black curls clipped back in what had to be seven sparkly barrettes.
Evan, he thought. I’ll look after her. I swear it. Your daughter will never not know love.
Oh, fuck, he was getting a little teary. Again.
He blamed Jonah and the ring in his back pocket.
He unlocked the door to the cabin, which was dark and hushed, the curtains drawn against the sun. Helen lay in the bed, the blankets pulled up over her shoulder.
He’d played to packed arenas. Been on countless talk shows. Shaken the hand of the President.