Though there was that logical part of me that knew it was perfectly normal to host a dinner party, it didn’t stop my hands from shaking at the thought.
“I’m pretty sure I don’t want to,” I told her, “but someone a few years back taught me that even though change is really hard, I can’t go through life just avoiding difficult situations.”
“You don’t have to like it,” Mayra reminded me. “Lots of people don’t like making adjustments. You accept change now, though, which is a big change in and of itself.”
“I guess so,” I said with a shrug.
Mayra rested her hands on my shoulders and turned me toward her.
“Don’t you sell yourself short now, Matthew Rohan,” she said. “You have made so much progress in the past year, it’s amazing. You don’t only accept change, but you make decisions without debating and worrying about them for weeks beforehand. I don’t think we’d be standing here even having this conversation if it were last summer. You haven’t freaked out during any of this, not even when Dad said he was bringing Officer Gregory with him.”
I met her eyes for a moment before looking over her shoulder and out the window again. Mayra dropped her hands to her sides and turned to look through the glass with me.
“There were times when decisions were almost impossible to make,” I agreed. “It’s still hard, but I know this is the right thing to do. I think I’ve probably made the wrong choices in the past just because I refused to make a decision one way or the other.”
“You could be a millionaire,” Mayra teased.
I shrugged again and turned away from the window. In my mind, I was at birthday parties when I was a child—both for me and for Megan, though she would never open her gifts. I remembered the first time Travis brought Bethany into the room and how much Megan had hated her. There were also thoughts of a darker sort, though—like when the unit’s commanding officer came to the door with the chaplain to tell us that Dad wouldn’t be coming home.
I walked across the living room and remembered all the times Mayra and I had spent there. I recalled our project on honey bees that just might have been responsible for bringing us together. I remembered sitting on the couch and drinking Cokes with four ice cubes in each glass. Most distinctly, I remembered waking up on the couch and having her beside me, wrapped up in my arms and making me feel safe and loved.
“Ye
ah, but I wouldn’t be happier,” I said. “That’s not a decision I regret.”
“What do you regret?”
“Well, going back a ways, there are a lot of things,” I told her. “I wish I would have kissed you the first time you brought me cake. I wanted to.”
Mayra laughed.
“Is that all?”
“Not quite,” I said. “I wanted to kiss you at least a dozen times before it ever really happened.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I wish I had kissed you sooner, too.”
I gave her a crooked smile, which she claimed went straight into her panties, and considered making love to her right there on the floor. She was still looking out the window, and I probably could have surprised her from behind, but there was something else—something more important—that I had to do.
“There is something else I wish I had done sooner.”
“What’s that?”
“Well,” I said quietly, “there’s only one thing that could make me any happier than I am now.”
“Oh really?” Mayra said. “What’s that?”
With shaking hands, I reached down into my coat pocket.
“Mayra Trevino,” I said softly. I bit down on my lip. I’d practiced this speech one hundred and forty-seven times, and I was sure I was still going to screw it up.
Mayra turned from the window as I walked closer to her and slowly lowered myself onto one knee. I heard her gasp and saw her hands clench and twist together. My body and mind tensed, and I knew how much parts of me wanted to panic over this. I also knew this was the only way to move forward with our lives—for real and for good.
“I know living with me is hard,” I said quietly. “I need everything done in certain ways, and I can lose my control over the smallest of things, but you’re still patient with me. You still stay beside me even though I know there are times when it’s hard on you. I’ll never find someone more loving and kind and wonderful than you are, and I’ll never love anyone like I love you. Will you…”
My voice cracked and failed me. I had to pause and squeeze my eyes shut, swallow hard, and force my hands to hold up the small, black box with the simple half karat diamond solitaire in it.
“Will you marry me?”