Facelift (39 page)

Occasionally, in the six months that Jack and I have been seeing each other, he brings Cousin It over to say hello. I have to admit she’s calmed down a little. Only a little. She’s still rambunctious, counter-surfs, and takes running leaps into the pool, but if she dares to dig up a rose bush then I suppose I’ll forgive her. Maybe she’s also torn down my barriers. The way God demolished the ones around my heart.

“She’s with Pam and the kids.” Jack pulls a shovel off the wagon and starts digging in the flower bed Cousin It destroyed. I watch him for a few minutes as he shapes the hole to his liking, then carefully tips a gallon-sized carton on its side and pries out the dormant rose bush.

“So, what color did you get?”

“My favorite.”

His answer makes me laugh. Sure enough, the label strapped to a branch flaps in the breeze: Lincoln Red.

“Don’t worry. I got something for you too.”

It’s then that something on the branch catches the light. Peering closer, I see it’s a ring. Not just a ring, but a diamond ring. A good-sized diamond, so large it makes my eyes widen. It sparkles in the morning light. When I look at Jack, he’s quit packing dirt around the base and is watching me. Careful of the thorns, he slides the ring off the branch. “I remembered what you said.”

I can’t manage a word, not even a stutter. But I arch an eyebrow.

“You know . . . about a husband bringing flowers. Not just on Valentine’s or anniversaries. And not ordered by a secretary.”

A husband? I swallow hard, trying to suppress a blooming smile as I remember that long-ago conversation so peppered with my anger toward Cliff. It all seems silly now. Those desires have so often been met over the past few months each time Jack has brought me bunches of daisies and sprigs of handpicked pansies.

“These will take a while to grow. But we can enjoy them together.” He slips an arm about my waist.

“It’s not Valentine’s.”

“Or our anniversary yet. It’s not even a president’s birthday. So, how about”—Jack steps toward me—“just because I love you?”

I loop my arms around his neck. “It’s not exactly what I imagined.”

He cocks an eyebrow at me and pulls back only slightly. “Not romantic enough?”

Tears form in my eyes, clog my throat.

“Would it be better if I rode up on a white steed?”

I shake my head, rest my hand over his heart. “No, this is . . . perfect.”

And I thank him with a kiss that I hope shows my full appreciation.

Before I finish, he pulls away. Raising his hand, he waggles his pinky at me. The diamond catches the light in a rainbow of colors. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh?” I let the smile take over. “And what question was that?”

He tips his head sideways, a nervous gesture, pulls back a step, and drops down to one knee. Looking up at me and squinting against the morning sunlight, he begins. “Kaye,” his voice cracks, “I love you. I have ever since Cousin It knocked all your books out of your arms. I can’t imagine you not being a part of my life. When you were trying to get Cliff back, noble as it was, I thought it might kill me. You deserve so much more. Better than me too. But this is all I have to give. My life . . . my love. Will you be my wife?”

God’s will is amazing. It so often takes turns that are curiously surprising and more generous than I deserve. I drop down to my knees and into Jack’s arms.

“Absolutely,” I whisper against his mouth.

Then we seal the deal with a kiss that not only takes my breath, but gives me life.