We were all home when she passed in early January.
There wasn’t anything left unsaid, but it’s still been hard. The hardest thing I’ve ever lived through. Nate’s been with me every step of the way, but some days I feel like the house itself. Same as the gazebo used to be—in need of a little repair.
Dad is spending most of his time now in Atlanta with Linney and the kids, so Nate and I are the only ones who are in the house full-time. He’s branched off from his dad’s company and now has his own contracting business. I’m still able to run the athleisure line from here, and for the first time in maybe forever, I feel creatively lit up. I spend hours in Mom’s sewing room, painting landscapes of the lake, like she used to do. It’s something I never really got to try before, because as a teen, it wasn’t really a pageant-worthy talent. And as an adult, I’ve just been so focused on choices that would move my career forward. It’s only while I’ve been living back here again that I noticed the urge to paint. It surprised me—wanting to try something that I wasn’t any good at. And I will admit, the paintings started out pretty wobbly, but each one gets a little closer to where I want it to be, and I like the challenge—of capturing all those shades of soft pink and pale blue. The drape of the willows over the water that my mother and grandmother both loved so much.
I hear the thrum of an engine as someone pulls into the driveway. I’m not sure who it is.
“Nikki! I need your help with something,” Nate calls from the front porch. “Quick, before they arrive.”
I give the flowers one final fluff and head toward the porch.
“What’s up?” I brush water off my hands onto the rumpled old overalls I’ve been wearing around the house. No point in getting dolled up with this much work to do.
“There’s something up with this floorboard and I wouldn’t want it to be a safety hazard when the kids get here.”
“Oh no, another problem? I swear, this porch!” It’s been giving us grief. He already redid all the screening, and now this?
“Okay, what do you need?” I ask.
He kneels down to mess with it, though I can’t see anything wrong. He grunts. “I got it.”
“It looks fine to me,” I say.
“No, hang on.” He reaches for something in his tool bag, and instead of grabbing a wrench, he produces a small velvet box.
My pulse hammers against my throat.
He pops it open, and I gasp.
Inside is my mother’s engagement ring.
“I—what? Nate!” We’ve talked about getting married, but we haven’t been in a rush. I know part of him has still been a little scared, and if I’m honest, I’ve been scared too. But now, happiness fizzes through me. “But the ring—how did you—”
“I asked for her blessing at Christmas, and she gave it to me then.” Nate’s voice is thick with emotion. “She asked me to wait a little. To give you some time after… everything.” He trails off, but his eyes don’t leave my face.
“Oh.” I choke out a sob. To know that Mom knew Nate was going to ask me to marry him and that she’d given us her blessing means everything to me. I’ve cried a lot over the last six months, but these are the first happy tears since Mom died.
“And I know I’m the one who used to say a couple should betogether for a decade before they can trust that what they have is real, but… I take it back,” Nate says. “I don’t think I could wait a decade to tell you that I want to spend forever with you. You’re the most surprising and best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love your laugh—your genuine, crazy belly laugh that you hardly ever let anyone else hear. I love that I get to be the one to hear it. I get to be the one to see and know the real you.” There are tears in his eyes. “Like, honestly, how did I get this lucky? I really don’t understand it. But I’m so grateful for it, every day. I want to be the man who can help you achieve all those insanely ambitious dreams, and I want to be the man who stands by you even if some of them don’t work out. And I want to make a family with you—one day, when we’re ready. I want to run around this yard with a couple kids of our own and shout at them to stop climbing all over the gazebo railing.” I laugh softly, and he uses the pause to wipe away the tears from the corner of his eyes. Nate clears his throat. “So, Nikki, will you marry me?”
There’s no fear this time, and no wash of victory either. It’s just pure joy coursing through me, tinged with the bittersweet sadness that Mom will never see this ring on my finger. I don’t worry how my hair looks, or if my nails are done (though of course they are. I’ll always be my mother’s daughter). I look into Nate’s warm blue eyes and then at the smile stretched across his face.
“Yes! Of course I will, baby.” I leap onto him, throwing my arms around his neck. He loses his balance, rolling onto his back. He wraps one arm around my waist, pressing me to him and breaking my fall.
We hit the porch floor with a grunt, me on top of him, and I run my fingers through his hair. “I love you so frickin’ much, Nate. This is crazy. I’m so happy.” And then I kiss him, tasting the salt on his lips from working out here for so long on this hot, sweaty day. I wantto stay like this, with him, on this porch—our porch—forever, but just then—
A roar of cheers goes up from around the corner of the house.
“I—what?” I leap off of Nate, as if the neighbors have suddenly ambushed us.
And that’s when I see three familiar faces rounding the bend.
It’s Emma, Sybil, and Willow.
Still scrambling to stand up and pull Nate up beside me, I let out a laugh of pure, tear-filled delight.
“You guys got here early! We don’t leave for the trip till tomorrow, and I thought I was just meeting Emma at the airport… ” With everything I had going on last summer, it wasn’t the right time to do a big bash for my thirtieth birthday party. Instead, we wanted to do something together, to celebrate all four of our birthdays. So we ended up booking a trip to France to stay in Willow’s family chateauthissummer.
I glance between my friends and Nate. “I guess you guys all knew…”
