Page 103 of Carved in Stone

He was about to launch into the rest of his prepared speech, but Gwen’s attention had wandered across the lane.

“Good heavens, that looks like my cousin Joshua,” she said in amazement.

He followed her gaze, where Joshua sat on one of the benches outside the pub across the street. Father Doyle sat beside him, with Aunt Martha and Uncle Milton on the other side.

“I really didn’t want an audience for this,” Patrick muttered.

Gwen leaned over the railing, squinting through the gathering twilight. “Liam is watching us through the pub window,” she said.

Patrick scowled. Sure enough, Liam, Natalia, and Bertie were all crowded inside the pub, looking up at them. The entire pub was probably crawling with Blackstones.

“My mother never could keep a secret,” he said in frustration.

Birdie’s voice rang out from next door. “I heard that! It was Martha who rounded everyone up.”

Down below, Joshua stood up and hollered, “Did she say yes?”

“I haven’t asked her yet,” Patrick bellowed down. “Too many people keep butting in.”

“Oh!” Joshua looked suitably embarrassed as he sat back down beside Father Doyle. “Don’t mind us. Carry on.”

Heat engulfed Patrick as he sighed and turned to Gwen. Her eyes glowed with laughter and affection. By now, all element of surprise had been blown to smithereens.

“It looks like you’ve figured out why I asked you up here tonight,” he said. “I’m sorry. I wanted this to be a lot more romantic.”

“Oh, Patrick, there are worse things than having a loving family and community coming out to support you.”

No doubt, but he refused to propose in front of them. He slipped through the window and helped her back inside, shutting the window behind them. They were finally alone. He stole a quick kiss, then guided her to the table. His mother’s artistry made it look perfect. The candlelight, the flowers. Birdie had even bought little jars of fancy imported dates to set beside the cake.

“Josh painted a picture of that monastery in Spain,” he said. “The ones who were so stubborn about the date seeds you wanted, even though they’ve grown rich as Croesus from their percentage of shares in the Blackstone Bank.”

She picked up the watercolor that was mounted in a simple brass frame. “This is what it looks like? I’ve never seen it before.”

“That was what it probably looked like a few hundred years ago, back before they plowed the date palms under in favor of grazing land. I wanted you to see what it looked like when they tended an orchard.”

He reached into his pocket for the matchbox and set it in her hands. “Most men probably propose to a woman with a nice ring, but I thought you might like this better. I wanted to give you something to prove that I understand what you need to be happy. I want us to love and support each other forever. I want to be your husband and the father to any children God blesses us with. If you’ll have me, I’d like to build a family with you. Gwen, will you marry me?”

Her eyes looked luminous in the candlelight, and her voice was confident. “You don’t look terrified anymore,” she said. “I’ll happily marry you.”

He was the luckiest man on earth. Finding the right woman had taken longer than he imagined, but as he held her in his arms, he knew they had made the right choice. A solid home involved family and community, but it was mostly the responsibility of the two people at the helm to nurture, provide, and inspire.

“Can I open this box?” she asked against his shoulder.

He stepped back and held his breath as she slid the matchbox open, revealing the shrunken, shriveled seeds inside. She glanced up at him, her face full of wonder as she asked if these were what she thought they were.

He nodded. “The Spanish monks finally agreed to let us have a go at making them germinate. I figure you’ll know what sort of tending it will take to give them a healthy start.”

“I do,” she confirmed. “I don’t know if these are past hope, but I’ll provide them with the ideal conditions to give them a chance.”

It was the best they could do, and the rest would be in God’s hands. It was the same with raising a family. There were no guarantees in life, but he and Gwen would build the foundation of a loving, faith-filled home that welcomed friends, family, and community.

He hopped out onto the fire escape and cupped his hands around his mouth to bellow out the good news to the people in the street. “She said yes!”

His mother’s shrieks of delight came from next door, while people from the pub raised their glasses in a toast.

He grinned and stepped back inside. “I figure we have about two minutes before they all come charging in here,” he said as he took her into his arms.

“More like thirty seconds, since your mother is next door.”

“Let’s not waste it, then,” he said, leaning down for a long and deep kiss.

Gwen returned it, and he lifted her off the ground, loving every moment of this. Only seconds later, Birdie and Mrs. O’Shea were rattling the doorknob, pestering to be let inside, but he wanted this moment to last forever. He set Gwen down and cradled her face between his hands, smiling down into her eyes.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Mrs. K, but I think we’re out of time.”

Soon Liam was pounding on the door too, wanting to congratulate his new brother. Gwen gave him a radiant smile, then unlocked the bolt and threw the door open. The apartment flooded with friends and family, both from his side and from hers. Father Doyle said a blessing, and the rejoicing began.