by Alie Garnett
After leaving school that day, she never spoke to Dayle again, just closed that door of her life with Dayle on the other side. For a moment, she wanted to rush to her and see how her life was going but held back. She was just the staff tonight, after all.
The third person she recognized had been the biggest surprise. It had been Savannah, Chris’s high school flame. She was prettier now than she’d been in high school, much nicer looking than the homecoming queen. She wondered if she and Chris were still friends? Agatha was sure he wouldn’t have looked her way if Savannah had still been around.
After another loop around the room, she began picking out more faces that she hadn’t seen in years, their names ones she no longer knew. But they were there. Some were in jeans, and some were in suits and dresses. She realized that the event had to be a class reunion for her graduating class. And joy upon joy, she was there as a waiter for the catering company. Not as an author or artist, but a worker for the event, someone who hadn’t even been invited. Or maybe she had. Maybe the invitation was just at her house, which she hadn’t been to in weeks.
So far, she hadn’t seen Chris, but if the entire class had been invited, so had he. After all, he was Mr. Popularity back then. No way would they not invite him.
Her third trip around the room found her hors d’oeuvres more popular, and her tray was almost empty when she slipped into the kitchen. Usually, Harper had a tray ready, but this time she was not ready and was just beginning to fill little bowls with cocktail sauce. Which was fine since Agatha didn’t want to be out on the floor anyway. How many of them knew it was her and that she wasn’t invited, just working there? More than enough to make her want to hide in here.
Watching Harper work, Agatha decided she wasn’t going to mention it was her class reunion out there; it would just make Harper sad that Agatha wasn’t invited. It was bothering Agatha more then she liked to admit. She wanted to be a guest. She wanted to be included.
After their talk that morning, she had wanted to avoid this evening but hadn’t wanted Harper to think she was avoiding her, which would have been true. She never wanted to have that conversation with her sisters again.
“Here you go. I love you. You know that, right?” Harper said, handing her the tray.
“I love you too, Harps, but if you ever use these cups again….” Agatha made a cutting motion against her throat and picked up the tray. With a fake smile, she headed back out to serve food to her former classmates.
As she started circling the room, the light piano music coming from the overhead speaker abruptly cut off. Her fake smile became real as she wondered if they would have to call a sound guy to fix the music or if it was an easy fix. Either way, a mess-up that wasn’t her fault was fun.
That was when she saw Chris, looking handsome as fuck in a tux. His curls were combed to his head, and he was looking right at her. Someone took the tray she was surely dropping from her hand. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to go to get away from him. Not that she really wanted to.
As the seconds ticked by, they stared at each other, neither one moving. The music had started back up, but now it wasn’t the piano music that had played before.
When the first whispered line, of “Hero” began to play, her heart and breath stopped completely. Agatha couldn’t believe the song was actually playing. It had to be all in her head, and she was going fucking nuts. The world didn’t stop for someone like her, but if it had, this was the best dream she had ever had.
Chris had already stepped close and was pulling her into his arms as the next line played, “Would you dance, if I asked you to dance?” His hands slid down to her hips and encircled her waist.
In a whisper, he asked as if she wasn’t already in his arms, “Will you dance with me, Agatha?”
Trying to control her emotions, she could only nod and slide her hands up his chest and encircled his neck. How could he still feel and smell the exact same as he when they were together? God, how she had missed him.
As the song continued, she wondered if he remembered the song that they danced to that night or if it had just been a good guess. A tear rolled down her cheek. She knew he remembered, just like she had. His arms slid across her back and pulled her closer to him. They had ceased dancing, now content to hold each other tight.
Quietly in her ear, he started singing the words to her, the words begging her to forgive him and to stay with him forever. Her heart melted as she pressed herself further into his warmth, wanting the moment to never end.
He stopped singing to say, “I love you, Agatha. Stay with me forever. I want to spend my life being your hero.”
His words were everything she had ever wanted to hear from him, but far more than she deserved after how she had treated him. She should’ve been apologizing to him and begging for his forgiveness; instead, he had made everything around them happen. For her. All to prove that he had changed, that he wanted her no matter who knew. But she needed to prove to him she had changed also.
“Chris,” she started but couldn’t say more through her tears.
He kissed a tear away. “I want to get down on one knee and propose, but I can’t let you go yet. I asked everyone in our class to come tonight so that they could all see me propose to you. So, they would all know I love you. I messed it up all those years ago, I don’t want to do that again.”
With his words, she remembered she was in the middle of a function as a waiter. Looking at the crowd, she saw semi-familiar faces watching them, but also all of her sisters and her mom. Then she caught sight of their husbands and Lucy and Harper, who had ventured out of the kitchen. She realized they had all been in on this.
Jonas walked up to them and handed her Poppy, who was wearing a little black dress with black tights to match her parent’s outfits. She instantly snuggled into their tight embrace, where she belonged. As a threesome, they didn’t dance through the rest of the song as it played. Chris sang to Agatha and Poppy the words of promise again.
“Will you marry me, Agatha Christie Lovely? Will you let me be your hero?” he asked when the song ended.
“Yes,” she whispered. Even though she spoke softly, Christ still heard, picking her up and kissing her as they turned in circles and the song started again. She thought that the crowd cheered but couldn’t be sure because Chris was kissing her, and that consumed all of her senses.
The kiss ended, and Chris called out, “I’m taking them home, Harper.”
“Car seat’s in your car!” Jonas yelled back as Chris carried her and Poppy from the room to cheers from more than just her family.
Even better, nobody was laughing at her. At them.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It took twice as long as it should have to get them the mile to Agatha’s home, mostly because he couldn’t stop touching her, kissing her, and telling her he loved her. Also, Poppy’s car seat was impossible to figure out.
After pulling in front of her house, he saw everything was in place liked he’d wanted. Her sisters were suckers for a happy ending. Now that he had won them over, they were friendly.
The house was completely lit up, and there were flower petals over every floor from the first floor to the third. White roses on the first floor, red on the second, and Poppy petals on the third. The house smelled like a flower shop, which covered the closed-up smell it had begun to sport.
“What did you do?” she asked from his arms as he carried her into the house with Poppy’s car seat dangling from his arm. Never was he so glad he had spent years working out.
“Your sisters and Sera might have helped a little. It seems Sera’s sister owns a flower shop and had some really good ideas about flowers,” he admitted. There had been some more wild ideas that he had vetoed, but he knew that Agatha would love the surprise. Even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“What?” she demanded with a smile.
“Don’t be mad at them.” He kissed her nose that she had wrinkled at the thought of her sisters’ involvement.
&nb
sp; “We’ll see how I feel tomorrow,” she joked with a smile.
“I have a few things to do before we get to making you feel good,” he said and put her on the floor and the car seat on the couch.
Chris easily freed Poppy from her car seat, which she was more cooperative for. Kissing her head, Chris snuggled her close because he had missed the little thing a lot over the last few weeks. He turned to her mom and pulled a ring from his pocket.
The ring was big and bulky, made of gold with a large red stone in the center. “I want to give you my class ring to wear, so everyone knows you’re mine.” He liked that she smiled at his words. She took the ring and tried it on her thumb, but it was too big. Chris laughed.
Reaching back into his pocket, he pulled out a smaller ring. This one had one red stone and thirteen smaller diamonds around it. “The ruby is your birthstone. The smaller stones represent each year we were in school together.”
She looked at the ring as he slid it on her finger. Her eyes met his, and she said, “But we were only in school together since the third grade.”
“No, we started kindergarten together. I can show you the yearbook to prove it. You were Agatha that year. In the third grade, I remember everyone called you Chrissy, I don’t know why.”
“I couldn’t say the ‘st’ sound,” she admitted.
“I want you to wear this ring so that you remember my promise to love you forever and marry you one day. When we’re both ready.” He kissed her forehead as he slid it on her finger, which was a bit loose.
“I was supposed to put this on your finger before we left the party, but I couldn’t let you go.” He held up another ring, a single diamond completely circled by smaller diamonds. Pulling the ruby ring he had just slid onto her finger, he moved it to the finger right beside it, where it fit. He then slid the new ring on her ring finger. “Agatha Christie Lovely, will you marry me? As soon as fucking possible, please?”
“Yes,” she repeated her answer she’d given him at The J.
“Can I move in with you until then?” he asked, shifting Poppy in his arms.
“I don’t know where else you would go. Have you bought another house to destroy?” She giggled, and he decided he loved the sound.
“I’m done destroying houses. From now on, I’ll be working with Carter at Lowell Insurance,” he admitted. Maybe he should have talked to her about it, but it was done.
“You? In insurance? I guess we all have hidden talents.” Pulling him to her, she kissed him.
Chris winked. “Once your princess is sleeping, I’ll show you some hidden talents.”
“I don’t even know what all is here.” She looked at the stairs.
“Everything. Jonas and Buzz brought all of Poppy’s things back. Either you said yes, and we came here, or you said and no, and I walked away. You were coming home tonight.” He ran his hand over her cheek.
“Did you think you would be here tonight?” she asked as she started up the stairs.
“I had hopes. Otherwise, you would be spending days cleaning up flower petals alone.” He followed her as she went, admiring her ass in her black pants.
At the top of the stairs, she took Poppy from his arms and went into the room she had made up for her weeks before. The baby’s clothes had all been returned to the closet and dresser.
Watching her change the baby, he realized he had missed so much. Before, she had been hesitant when taking off Poppy’s clothes. Now she had done it so often she didn’t even think about it, maneuvering the little body with ease and putting a pair of yellow pajamas on her.
“What color are her pajamas?” he asked from the doorway.
“Daffodil,” she said, handing the baby to him. “Can I change, or are you dreaming of ripping this gorgeous waitress outfit off me?”
“I can rip anything off you, gorgeous.” He moved aside so that she could go to her room.
“Then I better not pick my favorite shirt.” She walked past him, unbuttoning the white shirt as she went.
“I wish I could remember that night in the hotel, when I must have ripped this off of you.” He watched her pull the shirt down and toss it into the dirty clothes hamper.
“I won’t tell you about it; it’ll just depress you.” Grinning, she grabbed a T-shirt from her drawer. It said nothing; it was just a blue shirt. Chris smiled. He liked that he could rip this shirt off her, because if it had any writing on it, she wouldn’t let him.
“Because it was so good or bad?” His eyes were on her body as she shimmied out of her black pants.
“It was good,” she admitted, grabbing for sweatpants in her dresser.
“It’s always been good.” He leaned against the door, loving that she was his now.
Tossing the sweatpants on the bed, she took Poppy from him, hugged the baby to her, and sat on the bed. Poppy sucked on her thumb as he watched Agatha pull all three rings off her fingers and toss them on the mint green strip of the comforter. Then she looked at them, slowly rocking the baby in her arms.
“There are things you should know before you give me these back.” Her eyes looked at him and then back to the ring pile.
With his heart in his throat he asked, “What?”
She picked up the rings and laid them in a line, a few inches between each one. Picking up the class ring, she said, “In high school during that party when we had sex, it was my first time. I never told you that.”
“I kind of figured that out,” he admitted.
“I, um, got pregnant that night, but I miscarried at four months. It messed me up for a while. I had sex with a lot of guys for a few years. I partied and drank and did a lot of messed-up shit. I didn’t get my life back on track for years. Most of the time, I didn’t even try.” She pushed the ring farther from her.
Grief raced through him. How had Violet known? How had he not even considered that he was the cause of her pain when there was even a hint she was pregnant back then? Going through that sort of trauma would make anyone act out, and Agatha had just done what she thought she needed to erase the pain. But it couldn’t be erased; it could only be lessened. And she had done it all without him.
Crouching down by the bed, he pushed the ring back in line. “I wasn’t a boy scout myself. I played football and let everything else slide. I was that guy, and I regret letting that happen. That night in the hotel room wasn’t the only one I can’t remember. We both went through some bad years.”
Pushing the promise ring with the large ruby on it, she said, “That night in the hotel room, I knew you were too drunk to really consent, but I wanted you again. Just one more time. The next morning, I missed an appointment with a publishing house. I sabotaged myself.”
“I try not to think I was the biggest asshole in that hotel room that night. I wanted you, and I took you. And I was left not even knowing what happened.” He pushed the ring back in the line. Then he picked it up and put it back on her hand, where it belonged.
Her arms tightened around Poppy’s still body, and he heard her take a deep breath and push the engagement ring forward. “Poppy is yours.”
Unable to stop his smile, he picked up the ring and placed it on her finger where he had first put it, where it belonged. “I know. When you said you were Christie, I knew she was mine. I felt like she was mine from day one. I wanted her to be mine the moment you said she was yours.”
Not that he would let himself do anything but hope they had created this amazing child, that something good had come from them just once in the past. But knowing the truth made his heart sore. He had a daughter. He had a daughter with the woman he loved.
“Do you hate me? I gave her away. I just gave her to strangers.” A tear slid from her eye and disappeared into Poppy’s dark hair.
“No, you did what you thought was best for her. We weren’t ready yet, either of us. Now we are, and we have her, and we have each other. We’re together, all three of us. And we’ll have more.” He caught the next tear and wiped it away with his thumb.
&n
bsp; Every word he said was true. He had loved the baby since day one, even when he had no idea who the father was. When Agatha had said she was Christie, he had wondered if it was possible that she was his. There were little things about Poppy that reminded him of himself. That Agatha was finally admitting it made his heart soar. He had a daughter, a perfect daughter with the perfect woman. And they were together. How they came to be a family was a long, winding road, but it was over, and they were family. Never again would they be separated.
“More? As in more kids?” She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.
“At least another one, maybe four more. All girls and wild like their aunts. Poppy has a lot to live up to as a female in the Lovely family.” He ran his hand lightly down his daughter’s back.
“She’s also a Lowell,” Agatha said.
“She’s a Lovely Lowell. Poppy Agatha Lovely Lowell.” Taking Poppy from Agatha, he wrapped her in his arms and said her name again, making the baby smile.
“Not Agatha,” Agatha protested with a frown. “Poppy Seraphina Lovely Lowell.”
“Then the next one we’ll name Agatha.” He leaned down and kissed her still wet cheek.
“Christopher,” she said on a sigh.
“Agatha Christopher Lovely Lowell, we will have to get started right away,” he said, making her laugh. “But first, we have to make you a Lowell. How soon can that be done?”
He didn’t want to rush her. He knew how important a big wedding was to some people, but he didn’t want to wait. He had waited long enough.
“Mom can have us married in three days.” Agatha grinned with confidence.
“Monday or Tuesday?” he asked because that was sooner than he had ever expected. He had expected to wait a month or more. Probably more. Three days was perfect.
“Both,” was all she answered and pulled him down into a kiss, a kiss that made him regret that his daughter was still awake.