Page 88 of Speak from the Heart

Epilogue

Speak from the heart.

[Emily]

On a beautiful fall day, amid the vibrant yellows, reds, and oranges of the trees overhanging Nana’s backyard, Jess and I sit on a blanket where he’s prepared a picnic lunch for us. It’s one of those gorgeous pleasant and warm afternoons that make you want to be outdoors one last time before winter hits. Katie is off at school, talking successfully and making new friends, and Jess wants a few hours alone together to play hooky from life. The backyard feels romantic because of all the different moments we’ve shared together here, both before I went away and after I came back for good.

“Wine in the afternoon,” I tease as he reaches into the basket and pulls a bottle of white zinfandel.

“My girl likes sweet things,” he teases back. He knows how much I love this wine.

“And, we have much to celebrate.” He pours a glass of my favorite Michigan wine and hands it to me. He pours himself a glass even though he doesn’t really like the sweet stuff, and he clinks the edge of his flute to mine. “I love you.”

While that’s celebratory in and of itself, I know that can’t be it, but I say the words back to him and we drink.

“I have some news,” he begins again, and I look up at him. His hair is loose and a bit shorter, brushing the sides of his jaw. His eyes match the sky today, and the intensity in them is softer than usual. I wait with anxious anticipation and watch as he lowers to his side. “The design for the radio sold.”

“Oh, my gosh. That’s amazing!” I still don’t understand all the electrical jargon, but I’m so proud of him. I set my wine glass to the side and lean forward to kiss him, which heats up beyond a little congratulatory kiss. When we break apart, I bite my lip in restraint. I want more of him, but we haven’t eaten yet, and this moment seems important to him.

“I’m so excited for you, Jess. This is so great.” He knows I mean it. The inventor in him needed to share what he’d done and prove he didn’t need a fancy workspace or a big city employer to be discovered.

Jess quickly dismisses my praise and removes another item from the picnic basket.

Chocolate cake on a paper plate.

I smile at him, but his face grows serious.

“I’ve done so many things wrong with regard to us,” he says, and my expression falters. We both did a thing or two that could have been handled better. “Do you remember the conversation we had on my birthday where you asked me what I wanted? What I’d wish for?”

I nod although I’m not certain where this line of questioning will lead.

“I wished for you, Emily. You were what I wanted, even when I knew I couldn’t have you and I should’ve stayed away.”

“Jess.” I sigh and reach for his jaw. “I want you, too.”

“I find myself wishing again. Wanting more for us.” He sits up straight, and I’m becoming concerned as his jaw clenches. “I didn’t believe in all your fairy-tale stuff, a happily ever after and all that, but it’s happening, right? You make me want all that magic to happen for us.”

He reaches into the basket, pulls out a small item, and sets a square box before me.

“We’ve talked about silence. How hard it was for me to live without Katie’s voice. How painful it was not to know what happened to her.” He pauses, and we both focus on the box. “I don’t want silence between us. I don’t want there to be any question that I want you forever. My heart speaks, and it says only your name. I pick you, Emily. Pick me, too. Will you be my wife?”

He opens the box and presents me with a diamond solitaire. It’s perfect. Simple. Refined. The smile on my face is so large I can’t speak. Forever. With this man.

I giggle through my tears. “Yes, I pick you. Yes, I want to be your wife.”

Almost immediately, he’s on top of me, pressing me back against the blanket. His mouth seeks mine, and we kiss under the sunshine until he realizes the ring isn’t on my finger. He leans back to pull the ring from the box and slips it on me.

“In all the gardens, of all the roses, I pick you. Even though my girl prefers daisies.”

I laugh. He knows me well, and he returns to kissing me until the welcome stir between my thighs becomes a fire.

“The neighbors are going to talk,” I mumble against his mouth. I am eager and hungry for him.

“They’re already talking,” he mutters before he covers my lips again.

We decide to move inside and ignore Jess’s efforts at lunch until after we “celebrate in style,” as he puts it. Eventually, we eat on the screened-in porch, touching each other in every place we can while discussing all the possibilities in our future until it’s time for him to pick Katie up from school.

Be happy, Emily. I hear Nana’s voice whispering in the house.