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“Good. Means we’re doing it right.” He moved our hands to settle on his own chest. His own heart was beating as fast as mine. “I’m scared too.”
“Scared of what?”
“That you’d leave me on my knee holding this box any longer. That you’d reject my proposal and deny me from seeing you in my favourite something old, specifically something blue underwear for the rest of my life.”
“Oh, you charming, dirty man. I can’t reject your proposal. Not when I didn’t hear any.”
“True. That’s because we never do things the right way. Allow me to rectify this time.” He held my left hand as his beautiful blue-grey eyes locked with mine. “Lucille Monroe, I promise to stand beside you to tick every single one of your goals until the only thing that remains on your list is my name. Will you marry me?”
“I do.” I cried my reply and watched him slide the ring on my finger through the happy tears blurring my vision. My arms flew around his neck, hugging him tight and wiggling him with so much enthusiasm that I made him lose the balance he had on one knee and toppled both of us to the ground. I laughed and cried and held onto Sam as he leaned over me and wiped the tears off my cheeks.
“I’ll never tick off your name, Samuel Webb. You will always be my best goal and I will love you forever.”
“I love you too, Lucille. Now, close your eyes when I kiss you.”
* * *
Epilogue
I had just finished painting the final corner of the window sill when someone stole my paintbrush.
“Why am I not surprised to find you here.” Sam discarded the brush and replaced the lid on the red paint bucket.
“It needed another coat of paint.” I remembered about it while I was in the shower, lathering shampoo through my hair. If I hadn’t done it now, I might have forgotten again. Or I might have been banned from doing it because Sam would have protested like he was about to do now.
“You should have told me to do it.”
“You can’t paint to save your life, my love.”
“True. But I’d do anything for my wife. Even blotching her favourite window sills if it means that would keep her off her feet. You’re on strict orders not to do any work, remember?” Sam took my hand and urged me away from the window.
“You should have let me keep my work laptop at least. You know I hate just lying in bed and not doing anything.”
Sam escorted me to sit on our bed. “I know. But it’s doctor’s orders. Just for a few more days. Soon, you’ll be all cranky and longing for some time of not doing anything.” His frown was quickly transformed into the widest grin as he crouched before me and touched my huge belly. “Someone’s awake.”
“Both of them are.” I took his other hand and placed it on the other side of my belly to feel both twins. Sam was ecstatic. Every time he felt a baby kick, it was like the first time.
“We can’t wait to meet you, baby girls.” Sam nuzzled his head with my belly and kissed it all over.
“Mama?”
Our bedroom door burst open and our four year old boy came running in, clutching his elbow, his blue eyes full of tears.
“What is it, Blainie Boy?” I asked while ruffling his jet black hair.
Blaine’s pouty lips began to quiver. “My arm hurts.”
“What did you do now?”
“Nothing.”
“Hm, I bet.” Sam spoke. Of course he’d recognize his son’s lies. Dora said our little boy was the carbon copy of his father. His blue eyes, his heart-melting smile, his rambunctiousness.
The boy shrugged. “I was racing Grampy in the backyard and I fell.”
“How many times did I tell you not to play rough, huh?” Sam scolded him. “Next time, I won’t let you go to the beach with Grampy and Grammy.”
The boy burst into tears. With his cheeky antics, I heard Blaine’s cries almost daily. Yet still, every single time, the sound tugged hard on my heart.
