His Pumpkin Pie

It’s the only thing I can think of to get her out there to meet him alone.

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes and sees right through my bullshit.

As she walks out of the kitchen, my dad and Miller come in. They’re both smiling, and I’m so happy that I rush to Miller and put my arms around his waist. He greets my mom, and they chat for a bit as I feel him kiss the top of my head.

“Do I smell pelmeni?” he asks, and I lean back to look up at him.

“I hope I did it right.”

“You are too good to me, krasota.”

We start placing the dishes on the table, and Frost walks in. His eyes narrow on Cookie as he watches everything she does. She pretends he’s not there, which I think may be driving him crazy. When we tell everyone dinner is ready, Frost makes sure he gets a seat next to my sister.

“I know what you are doing, krasota,” Miller whispers into my ear before kissing my cheek. I shrug, thinking my plan is working.

We all sit down and we’re just about to begin serving dinner when Miller stands from the table. I look up at him, unsure of what he’s doing as he drops to one knee. My eyes fill with tears when I realize this is it.

“You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me, Pumpkin. You will marry me.”

A laugh bubbles up inside of me at his demand, but that’s my Miller. Part of the reason I’m so in love with him is because he goes for what he wants, and he wants me. I hold my hand out as he slips the ring onto it. Thanksgiving could not be more perfect as I say yes to the question he didn’t ask and then kiss the love of my life.

Later, as I glance over at Cookie and Frost, I think Christmas might be just as perfect.EpilogueMillerSixteen years later…“Stop looking out the window,” Pumpkin says as she comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist.

“I’m just checking on the roses.” I drop the curtain and scowl as she laughs.

“Liar.”

I turn around so I can look down at her and I take her chin in my hand. “What do you expect? Our daughter is with a boy, and I don’t like it.”

“She’s with a friend.” She looks at me softly, but I know she hides the truth from me.

Maybe it’s better I don’t know, and Pumpkin must know that. Because if our baby girl Natalie has a boyfriend, I would break his legs.

The sound of an engine has me turning around, and I see a car pulled up out front. The boy’s mother and father are in the car, and I stare as the boy gets out and holds the door open for Natalie.

“He’s got good manners,” Pumpkin says, and I just huff.

“He is small.”

“He’s sixteen.” Pumpkin nudges my back, and I grunt.

“I should go outside and talk to his parents.” I move to the door, and she grabs my arm.

“Miller, I already talked to them earlier, it’s fine. Let the boy say goodbye to Natalie.” She’s pleading with me as her hands move across my chest. She’s not playing fair.

“Fine.” I give in even though I don’t want to and stand there waiting for Natalie to come inside.

After a long moment on the other side of the door, she walks inside, and her cheeks are bright red.

“What were you doing?” I bark, but Pumpkin steps in front of me.

“How was the movie, baby? Did you guys have a good time?”

“Yes! It was really funny, and Drake bought me snacks and popcorn.”

“Where did you get lipstick?” I scowl at the pink on her lips.

Natalie shrugs as she walks past with her mother. “From Aunt Cookie.”

“Cookie.” I say her name like a curse as Pumpkin goes with Natalie into the kitchen.

I walk out the side door to where our houses connect, and I see Cookie on the patio washing her dog.

“Did you give my daughter makeup?” I yell, and Cookie stops what she’s doing to look up at me.

“Yeah. It’s payback for when you gave Mikel condoms!” she shouts back.

“He is a boy, it's different!” I shout back and then swallow hard as I slam the door and go back inside. The sound of Cookie laughing behind me makes me angry.

I will get her back for this, probably when she’s over here for dinner later. I’ll have to remember to do it when Frost isn’t around.

“Hey,” Pumpkin says as she comes back into the living room. “You still all grouchy?”

“Yes.” I know I’m pouting like a child, but Natalie is our baby girl, and this is too much. I want her to be four years old again and bouncing on her papa’s knee. Soon she will leave us, and it will break my heart.