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The ring burned a hole in my pocket all evening. I had to take it out of the box because otherwise a big, obvious bulge would stick out of my pocket, and I didn’t feel like telling Molly that I was just happy to see her. While cooking in the kitchen, my hand kept drifting down to my hip to make sure it was still there. I was afraid it would fall out and end up in someone’s carbonara.
Finally everything was in place. The special meal I had cooked them was picked up by one of the servers. I wiped my face with a cloth and walked out there, but I kept sweating. I had never been this nervous before in my life.
Sara was a good sport for offering to film the entire thing, and when I got to the table she flashed me a thumbs-up. Molly saw her do that though.
I guess there’s no going back, I thought as I went to one knee. My mom clasped onto my dad’s hand and they practically trembled with excitement.
Molly turned around. She must have been expecting me to still be standing, because she was gazing up into the air where my head had just been. Her eyes followed me down, confused. Then she looked at the ground and realized what was happening.
“Oh my God.”
“Molly,” I said in a shaky voice. Why was I so nervous? “The two months we spent together in Rome were the best of my life. Until we came back to Elkhart.Thatmonth was the best of my life. Then the month after that, and the month after that. Even this last month, with all the crazy preparations of opening the restaurant, was best of my life.Everymonth with you is better than the last. And I never want that to end.”
The words were easy to say because they were true. They came from the heart. When I was in Rome I already loved Molly. But the past five months had convinced me that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh myGod…”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring. “Through restaurant openings, and closings, and lake-effect snow, and even pandemics. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Molly Carter. Only you.”
My hands trembled as I held up the ring. “Will you marry—”
“YES I’LL MARRY YOU!” she shouted.
I slid the ring on her finger. One of her girlfriends at the other table cheered, and then the entire restaurant clapped along. Molly grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me while tears streamed down her face.
“It’s not fair to propose to a pregnant woman!” she said while wiping her face. “This is the third time I’ve cried today and I’m running out of concealer!”
Our server opened a bottle of champagne—and a bottle of sparkling cider for Molly. I hugged my parents, and then they hugged my fiancée.
Fiancée. I liked the sound of that.
“We will never be able to replace your parents,” mom said to Molly, holding her hands in hers. “But I hope you’ll think of us as family, and I hope you’ll be the daughter we never had.”
The two of them hugged fiercely. “Look what you did, Gloria. She’s crying again.”
“So am I!” she snapped. “Why aren’t you?”
Dad hugged me and said, “Proud of you, son. For her, and for all of this.” He gestured around the room.
“Thanks, dad,” I said. “It’s been a weird year, and I’ve been luckier than most.”
I went back to the kitchen, where the chefs were all waiting to clap me on the shoulder and congratulate me. I felt weightless as I worked through my orders, floating from station to station.
The next time I had a short break, everyone was eating Russo Pie at the table. “This is good,” mom told me. “Almost as good as I make it.”
“I don’t know,” Molly said with a smile. “Donovan’s is pretty good.”
“Molly told us the sex of our grandchild!” dad said. “I can’t believe—”
“La la la!” I stuck my fingers in my ears. “I can’t hear! I can’t hear!”
Molly’s friends had finished their meal and came over to hug her and say goodbye. “Sara, Becky, Wanda, Marisa, allow me to introduce you to my fiancé: Donovan Russo.”
“It’s not fair,” Wanda, the redhead, said. “We missed out on the trip, and Molly came home with a gorgeous hunk.”
“Did you really carry her three miles to the hospital?” Sara asked.
“It wassixmiles,” I said casually. “Uphill the entire way.”
