“He’s …” I couldn’t even formulate complete thoughts or speak them with my jaw hanging on the ground and my cheek on fire. “Mine.” I scrounged a tiny grin for Sophie. “He’s mine.”
She did her headshake and grumbled before returning to the task I gave her.
“Please be mine,” I whispered to myself with the tips of my fingers still pressed to the exact spot his lips touched my cheek.
CHAPTER FOUR
Ronin
“Am I waking you?”
Dad laughed. “Almost.”
“Where in the world are you?” I really had no idea. My parents traveled all the time.
“Cologne.”
“Germany. Nice. Is the birthday girl still awake?”
“Barely. I’ll let you chat with her.”
“Thanks.”
A few seconds later, my mom cleared her throat. “Ronin.”
“Happy birthday, Mom.”
“Thank you, sweetie.”
“I tried you earlier today. I’m barely making it under the wire now.”
“It’s just another day. How’s Aspen? Have you started work yet?”
“Just some orientation. I’ll start full-time soon. But I’m settled into my condo. You should come visit soon.”
“Oh! Is it snowing there already?”
“No.”
She grunted. “Then you know your father will not be visiting quite yet.”
“Fair enough. Did Julien call?”
“Yes. He called this morning.”
“He video chatted with her,” Dad yelled in the background. “Showed her the water lily mobile he made for her birthday.”
“Aw … sounds nice,” I replied with as much sincerity as I could muster. My brother was two years younger than me. He had a wife and two daughters and a booming career as a successful artist. Some of his recycled-material mobiles hung in art museums.
I epitomized the opposite of Julien. My first real companion, a rescue dog named Rex, died of cancer. Gianna, my girlfriend of two years, left me because she thought my life was too unsettled for her relationship goals. And … I was the worst gift-giver—ever.
In my defense, it’s not that I lacked the desire to be a generous person. I wanted to be amazing in that department. I also wanted to travel by teleportation. If I’m completely honest, I had a better chance at that than becoming the Martha Stewart of great gifts.
“It’s a lovely mobile, but this call from you means just as much to me,” Mom reassured me.
The truth? She absolutely meant it. My mom watched me agonize over gifts for as long as I can remember being old enough to buy gifts for other people. I missed the days of messy glitter glue and scribbled stick figures on a card made from folding a piece of construction paper in half. She loved that stuff, still had every card Julian and I made. Of course … Julien’s cards were origami cranes or some exceptional shit like that.
“I won’t keep you. I know it’s late there. Just wanted to tell you I love you and wish you a happy birthday.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Have you made friends?”
I chuckled. She asked me this every time I moved to a new location. And by friends, she meant had I met a woman. My usual answer was no. Then she responded with a sigh because she wanted grandkids from me so badly. My generation’s lackadaisical attitude toward starting a family drove her crazy. Julien, however, also set the bar too damn high by marrying the first girl he kissed and spreading his biological seeds as quickly as possible. He didn’t get the memo about our generation.
“As a matter of fact …”
“Oh, Ronin! Tell me all about her—or him. You know we don’t care.”
“Thanks. It really is kind of you to respect my sexual preference. However, she’s a woman. I met her in Vancouver, but she lives here in Aspen. We had breakfast and dinner the day we met, and we’re having dinner tonight. Happy birthday.”
She laughed. “That’s really why you called. You knew the best birthday present you could give me is this.”
I silently commended her for not giving unnecessary emphasis on the word you.
Julien made a work of art. I met a girl.
The honorable mention son.
Don’t get me wrong. Julien was amazing. I knew the mobile had to be great. Evelyn, however, was stunning beyond words. So … I won that round.
“Of course, I knew my gift would please you. Also, she’s agreed to marry me. We haven’t sorted the details.”
Silence.
“Um … wow! Okay …”
I chuckled. “What? Isn’t this what you’ve wanted for years?”
“Well, yes. But I just thought. I mean, you’ve known her how long?”
“Technically two weeks. But we’ve been together about eight to nine hours total.” I rubbed my mouth to hide my smirk that she couldn’t see anyway.
“And you proposed?” Her voice shot up an octave.
“Not exactly. She suggested it, and I didn’t think it was a terrible idea.”
“Wh-what exactly does that mean?”
“It means I’m joking just to get a reaction out of you.”
“Oh, Ronin! You don’t even have a date tonight, do you?”
I laughed. “I do. That part is true. Her name is Evelyn. She’s a chemist who makes body products. She owns a store here in Aspen called Clean Art. You’d like her.”