by Dee Ernst
“Think so?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then I should probably think seriously about getting married again.”
He did not speak. His eyes narrowed very slightly. “I thought,” he said at last, “you never wanted to get married again.”
I took a deep breath.
“I thought so too, mainly because I really didn’t like being Brian’s wife. But I’ve been thinking that maybe I would be a different wife the next time around.”
“And what kind of wife do you want to be?”
“Yours.”
He stuck both of his hands in his pants pockets and looked at the ground.
“The thing is,” I said, my voice cracking a bit, “I love you. And I really missed you. There were so many times I wanted to talk to you or ask your advice, and it was awful not having you there. I finally got used to the being alone part, but I still missed the idea of you. And I know that, no matter what happens to me in the next fifty years, my life will be better if you’re in it.”
He looked up, but not at me. His eyes squinted against the setting sun as he looked past me. Was he going to say something? Anything? No—he was not going to make it any easier. I couldn’t really blame him.
“I’ve had to look at what marriage really means,” I went on. “Not just to each other, but to the world. It means you’re willing to put everything on the line. You’re willing to take risks for each other. To be unhappy for each other. It means both of you are willing to do the hard work.”
“I know what marriage is, Mona,” he said quietly. “I’ve always known.”
“But I’ve never known. Not really. Which is why I was so terrified about Miranda and David. They took this giant leap of faith. Their whole lives were about to change, and they weren’t afraid. At all.”
He looked straight at me. His eyes were very dark and still. “Everything does change, Mona. That’s kind of the point.”
“Yes. I know that now. I got a piece of advice a while ago, about expectations and reality. Which is why I think you’re the only person I ever could marry. I’m willing to do the work. I’m willing to face the changes. I’m willing to risk everything to be with you. That’s my reality. So I think I can expect us to live happily ever after.”
He was quiet.
“Unless it’s too late.”
He took a deep breath. Then he looked away, shaking his head. He made a bit of a face, like he was having some sort of conversation with himself. His shoulders lifted, then fell.
“Will you marry me, Ben? I’d get down on bended knee,” I said, “but if I got grass stains on this dress and Carmella wanted more pictures, she’d probably have me killed.”
Finally he smiled. “Well, we can’t have that. I don’t think bended knee is required.” He reached to take my wrist. There, under the flower corsage, was the bangle he’d given me for Christmas. “Better than your dreams?”
I stepped forward, right into his arms. My silly shoes dropped onto the grass.
His body was long and lean against mine, his arms around me strong and tight. My head fit perfectly against his shoulder.
Was that a chorus of bluebirds bursting into song?
Did the band suddenly start playing “Hallelujah”?
Did a flock of white doves fly by in a hushed flurry of wings?
No.
It was the sound of happiness, and my own heart singing.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
As always, I have to thank my agent, Lynn Seligman, for her encouragement and guidance. More thanks to Tiffany Yates Martin for her excellent editing, and Cheryl Murphy, editrix at Inkslinger, who always manages to make my books look perfect. It’s great to have a team I can count on as my career moves forward.
Also—thank you to all you readers who asked for a sequel. I had thought that Mona and Ben were done. I hope you all aren’t disappointed in how things turned out.