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Dog-Dog took his sweet-ass time trotting toward us. He stopped midway and sniffed at the ground before rubbing the side of his face in the dirt and rolling around on his back.
“Good grief,” Gray said. “You’re spoiling the surprise.”
Dog-Dog stopped sliding against the ground long enough to look up at Gray and growl.
I gently slapped Gray’s hand. “Be nice to him. Dammit, Gray. He’s a good boy.” I knelt down and patted my knee. “Where’s my good boy?” I cooed. His ears pricked up, and he hopped up from the ground, rushing toward me.
“Do me a favor, Half-pint,” Gray said. “There’s something in his backpack that we’re going to need. I’d reach for it myself, but I’m pretty sure it would just be a bloodbath.”
When I reached into the backpack, I felt something soft and smooth. Pulling it out, I realized it was a small jewelry box. I turned around to find Gray kneeling in front of me, smiling bigger and brighter than I’d ever seen him.
“Two-liter?”
He took the box from me and held it between both of his hands. “I can’t change how everything happened back then, but I swear to you, if you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how loved you are. Stay with me. I promise, I can be what you need.” He flashed a smile through his tears and opened the box, presenting me with a stunning silver band. “In life and death, abide with me.”
A soft, choral hum drifted toward us on the breeze and when I looked to my side, the denim debutantes stood beautifully. They swayed side to side, and with each move, they brought one hand forward, snapping a finger in time with the rhythm of the song. They must have practiced their unnecessary choreography for days.
As stunning as this moment was—as moving as Gray’s words had been—I glared at my mother. She had been humming right along with the debs, but her swaying stopped suddenly when she saw my face.
I extended my arm, pointing a righteous finger of judgment directly at her. “Did you know about this?”
“I asked her for your hand two weeks ago, Half-pint,” Gray said.
Without looking back at the most chivalrous of soon-to-be fiancés, I scowled at my mother. “I’m wearing sweatpants. What kind of monster lets their son get engaged in sweatpants?” A sob leaped from my throat. I looked back at Gray with what I was sure was the most hideous crying face in human history. “It’s my ring this time? You promise?”
Gray nodded as he tried to hold back his laughter. “It’s your ring.”
I fell to my knees and wrapped myself around him. As I cried into his chest, his fingers brushed through my hair. “I told you that when I gave you your ring, it would be one that was just as beautiful as you. I tried. I really did. I wanted to get you a nice one so bad, Kent.”
I jerked back and stared at him, shaking my head like an insane person. “No. No, Gray. We work at a grocery store, for God’s sake. I won’t let you go into debt over a ring.”
Gray snorted as he reached into the box and pulled the silver band out. He held it toward the light, making visible a small inscription on the outside of the ring.My Half-pint.
“I love it.” I grabbed Gray and brought him to me. As our lips crashed against each other, he slipped the ring on my finger.
“Abide with me,” the debs sang at our side.
“Oh my God, I can’t handle this. Make them stop!”
They didn’t stop singing, and I continued weeping for the whole world to see. Gray kissed me again, his knees popping as he found his footing and stood. He reached down and offered me his hand for support, and I stared at it, knowing that once I took it, I’d never let go.
Marty walked toward us and pulled me in for a hug. “I’m so happy for you, kiddo. So happy.” He kissed my cheek before stepping back and pulling the strip of black tape off his shirt.
I LOVE MY HOMOSEXUAL SONSwas now sprawled across his chest.
“Jesus on the crucifix! Why is everyone hellbent on shattering my soul today?” I wailed, throwing myself into Marty’s arms and slapping my hands against his shoulders. “I’m being held hostage at a lake by a group of homicidal lunatics.”
The sound of tires spinning against gravel and sand snapped me out of my post-proposal emotional meltdown. I looked up in time to see Rhonda Macknemera’s tiny Fiat pulling what appeared to be a shed on wheels. I glanced over at Gray, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Yeah, about that. There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you. It’s the reason I could only afford that little silver band.”
I shook my head. “My ring. It’s my ring, and I won’t let you slander its beauty.” Staring down at the ring, I grinned. “Don’t listen to him. I’ve waited a lifetime for you. You’re beautiful, and you are loved.” I lifted the ring to my lips and gave it the most appreciative of kisses.
“If you’re done doing whatever the heck it is you’re doing right now …” Gray pointed at the small structure attached to Rhonda’s car.
Rhonda and Low-budget Sam Elliot got out of the car. She made her way toward us as Sam fooled with the trailer hitch. She brought her hands forward at a rapid pace, snapping her fingers frantically, and not at all in rhythm as she sang,“Abide with me.”
“We’ve already done that part,” my mother said, her words leaving her tongue like poisoned darts. “You’re twenty minutes late.”
