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What things though?
I have no idea, but as their eyes meet mine I wonder if I should just take this opportunity and get it over with. Tell them everything. Come clean. Would Dutch appreciate it? I could smooth things over before he even has to face them.
“And where have you been, Daphne Foster?” my mom says with a wry smile. Does she suspect? Dad just stares at me, fork in hand, eggs and bacon half eaten on his plate.
I shake my head. “Nowhere. I mean, just taking the dogs for a walk.”
She stares, raising one eyebrow, and I look back at her, feeling scrutinized, judged. Of course she knows. She’s not stupid, she sees things.
“Mom, I—”
“Where are they?” she asks, and for a second I’m confused.
They?
Then it dawns on me. “Oh, um, I mean I took them out earlier, then brought them back to my room…”
“And then went back outside?”
“She told me she was just going out for a walk, right, sis?” James supplies, covering for me. “It’s such a lovely morning and all that.”
I nod. “Yes. Exactly.”
Dad draws a deep breath through his nose, then goes back to eating his breakfast, not even meeting my eyes.
“Well.” Mom shakes her head. “If you’d have told me I would have gone with you. A walk before breakfast sounds like just the thing to set you up for the day. Good for you, sweetheart. And will Dutch be joining us this morning?”
Dad huffs, grumbling around a mouthful of eggs.
“Mom…” I begin, wondering how to say what I need to say. Will she be angry? Will Dad march right on down to the little house and punch Dutch’s lights out? “Mom, I need to—”
The back door opens, and suddenly my breath is taken away. There is Dutch. But I must be dreaming because he’s wearing what appears to be a five-thousand dollar suit. I’ve never seen him in anything but jeans—or nothing at all.
His eyes meet mine and it’s like everything is swept away.
He crosses from the door, and before I know it he’s there, dropping down onto one knee. Taking my hand in both of his. Meeting my gaze with those eyes I could drown in. Wide and blue and so deep.
“Daphne,” he says. “Daphne, you gave me a fucking new life when you wrote me that first letter and I don’t want that life to ever end.” He grins and glances around at the others at the table, my mom, James, finally my dad, who draws a deep breath through his nose but says nothing.
And the giggle escapes before I can hold it in.
Then the giggle turns to a chuckle, and a full-throated laugh. I’m shaking my head, trying to get myself under control as the tears stream down my cheeks. He has my left hand gripped in his, so I clasp my right hand to my face.
“I’m sorry…” I mutter, still laughing. “I’m sorry, this isn’t funny. I promise, I’m taking it seriously. I’m just…so happy. I thought I was going to have to tell them myself.”
“You didn’t did you?”
I shake my head, trembling with the effort of trying not to giggle. “No. I didn’t get chance.”
“Thank fuck. That’s my job.”
“Damn right it is,” my dad grumbles.
I turn his way, then narrow my eyes. “Why aren’t you laying down the law? Why are you sitting there, not getting up and punching Dutch in the face?”
James laughs. “Yeah, Dad, what gives?”
Even Mom turns his way, but he just shrugs.
“He came and asked me. Like a man. He made me swear not to say anything. Told me about the letters too. I’m not going to pretend I’m happy about it, but I want you to be happy, sweetheart. And anyone can see that since he came here that’s exactly what you’ve been. So…” He draws a breath through his nose, huffs it out. “So if this is what you want, I say go for it. You’ve gotta do what’s right for you.”
Mom punches him playfully on the arm. “You old romantic.”
Dad grumbles and sticks another forkful of eggs into his mouth. “Get on with it then,” he says to Dutch as he chews, and I laugh as I turn back.
“Where was I?”
“Something sappy,” James suggests.
Dutch just laughs. “Right. I’m not good at making speeches. Just marry me, Daphne.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little white box, opening it up to show the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen, catching the light in blinding sparkles. “Daphne Foster, you are sentenced to life. With me.”
I nod, tears still dripping from my chin. “Yes,” I say as he slips the ring onto my finger. “Yes, I’ll do my time. I mean, I will. I do. Whatever the right response is. Just yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
I laugh again as Mom rushes over to hug me and James thrusts his hand out to shake with Dutch. But this time my laughter isn’t nervous, or unexpected. It’s joyous.
