Her glasses dangle on a chain around her neck, and she fumbles to put them on her nose while grabbing her phone. She aims the camera at us, and I move even closer to Robyn and wrap an arm around her. Her arm goes around my waist, and after a few poses, I kiss her on the cheek, quick and firm. Smiling, her cheek lifts against my nose, and I nuzzle her before pulling back.
Mom squeals. “I love them. I’m getting them printed at Walgreens before you leave. Nate, you’ll hang one or two up for me?”
My chest tightens. Seven months after Dad left, Momtook down all his pictures. For years, the only faces on those walls had been Mom’s and mine. Now, Robyn’s is going up there because Mom knows she’s folded in,family. All that’s left is timing and formalities.
Something must show on my face because Mom shifts the mood by pushing a gift into my lap. I carefully lift a corner of tape, peeling the paper back without a tear, and ignore Robyn’s gleeful screeches as she rips the red wrapping paper from the present Mom dropped in her lap. The cycle continues, and the gift hidden in my pocket presses against my thigh, but before I can bring it out, eager to give it to my girl, Robyn beats me to it. She pushes up to her knees and hands me a small envelope.
“Open it.” She’s got her fingers intertwined, sitting impossibly still, and the eagerness in her voice tells me my girl isn’t asking.
Inside are three folded certificates—two entry tickets each, valid for a year.
House on the Rock.
Taliesin.
The Rudin House.
These are buildings just a few hours out of Chicago I’ve talked about since we got together. Two designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s architecture heaven.
I stare at her. “Robyn. Baby. This is?—”
“You always talk about wanting to go,” she says, eyes bright. “And I want us to. We deserve this, Nate.Youdeserve us making time for this.”
I hug her to me and kiss her temple. “You’re?—”
Mom clears her throat from the couch, hands clasped to her heart.
“My turn?” I ask.
I hand Robyn an envelope of my own. She opens it and gasps.
“I know it’s a bit unconventional…” I scratch the back of my neck, bringing my gaze to the floor. “But there’s a lot of tools and ingredients in that box and?—”
Robyn’s lips land on mine. When she pulls away, I finally dare to look at her. She’s flipping through pictures of different types of flour, colors of fondant, and tools.
“A DIY sculpted cake kit? Nate—this is amazing.” She throws her arms around my neck. “We’re going to make something ridiculous.”
“Something edible,” I correct. “Ideally.”
She kisses my cheek. “I love you.”
Mom pretends not to watch us, but when I glance at her, there’s a tenderness in her blue eyes she doesn’t bother hiding. Eventually, Robyn heads to the kitchen to refill nog, humming under her breath.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I clear my throat. “Hey… Mom?”
She raises a brow. “That’s not yourchecking-intone. What do you want?”
“Yeah, uh…” I rub my neck. “Your mom’s engagement ring. Do you still have it?”
Her expression softens. “I do.”
“I want it,” I whisper. “For Robyn. I’m ready. Maybe on that trip. As soon as she figures out her next step—fellowship or attending. I just…” My chest tightens. “Mom, she’s it.”
Mom’s eyes shine. “I know she is.”
“You’re okay with giving me the ring?”
“Nathan”—she grabs my hand—“your grandmother would’ve adored Robyn. She’s strong. Smart. Kind. She challenges you, loves you. She’s exactly the kind of woman we pass that ring to.”
