“By whom?” she asked, setting down the glue gun.

“Who do you think?” I smiled.

She said nothing and stared at me with a blank face.

“Yeah, I know,” I replied. Even though she gave nothing away, I knew exactly what was on her mind. “Fast. But there aren’t any plans or anything. That dress is mine though, and dude, I never, ever thought I’d be buying a wedding dress.”

Still no smile, but her eyes were wide. “Not fast at all. Go forth and buy. Remember, I have all the decorations and everything in my head.”

“See ya later, Rubes.” I smiled.

“I’ll be here with my butterflies.”

***

I walked in the door of Beachy Bride and watched as Dee moved like lightning across the room to me. “Listen, I was an asshole. I don’t want to talk about Frodo. Please, please forgive me.”

I quickly returned, “It takes one to know one. We won’t talk about him, but it sucks, and of course I forgive you.” Then I took a big breath. “I have to buy a wedding dress.”

“What the…?”

“No,” I shook my head, then explained exactly what happened with Holst.

Dee bent to a wood box that sat on the table, opened it, and took out a little parchment card with the word sold in gold letters. “I’ll keep it for you. You pay whenever you want.”

“I don’t want to talk about what it does or doesn’t mean. I just need to know it’s there when I want it, because I really love that fuckin’ dress.”

“Yeah. Kinda like when Tori saw her dress. It was just…made for her.”

“Yeah. So, we’re good? And by that, I mean, are you good?”

It was then I watched as Dee crumbled. She fell onto the couch behind her and burst into tears. I joined her and wrapped her in my arms while she sobbed.

“He’s too much for me. I can’t, Kath. I just can’t be who he needs me to be.”

I stayed with her for half an hour, just letting her cry, telling me more about her ex, and how her friends in England knew about the other women, but none of them wanted to be the one to tell her. The worst part was knowing just how deep her love for Frodo went, but her reluctance was driven by fear. And I knew that fear. It was still there in the back of my head, pushing and prodding, never letting me forget. But I told my fear to fuck off, and Holst never gave me any reason to doubt.

And now…

I had a wedding gown.

Katherine

Thanksgiving Day brought Holst and I closer to being one of those housebound, obese couples that require one of those grabby-handle sticks to reach the TV remote. Basically, we’d eaten our way through the holiday. I wanted to show off my culinary prowess to my man. Therefore, I left no yummy stone unturned: a roast turkey, brined in a salt bath of bay leaves and citrus rinds for two days. I then filled it with porcini and herb stuffing and braised it lovingly with lemon butter. I’d found a recipe for sweet potato pie, a savory side that pretty much combines every vegetable on earth into one dish.

We were eating pecan pie with a buttery, chestnut crumb crust when Holst turned to me and said, “I want you to know, that as much as I want to finish this day, our first holiday together, by making love to you, I think it’s physically impossible for me to move.”

The very next day, we were suddenly propelled into Christmas. Bing Crosby sung carols in the background at Bear Claw, and, at my insistence, we were knee-deep in eggnog lattes, hot apple cider, mince pies, and coffee, of course. Christmas had always been a non-holiday for me. Mom and Dad went somewhere for him to schmooze clients and ski. Most of the time, I was looked after by the non-skiing women or older kids. Not once did we ever have a tree or presents.

But I was determined to change all that. First off, shopping. I went to Tresso and paid our old boss, Greg, a visit. I needed to stock Tori up with Christmas decorations and holiday crap she absolutely didn’t need, but I knew she’d love. I didn’t own any Christmas decorations at all, so I stocked up for myself, too.  But me, being me, I also went into the baby section and found coffee mugs for Cam and Tori that said Mama Bear, Papa Bear and a little one that said Baby Bear. They were so freaking cute, I couldn’t help myself.

And what kind of auntie would I be if I hadn’t?

After dinner, on an unusually brisk December night, Holst announced Bear Claw needed a real tree. I bought fake ones that looked like they’d been felled and plonked into a stand. Gloria taught us how to make angels from paper cups, and she and Leo placed them around the shop with our names and a few regular customers’ likenesses. I commissioned Christmas garlands from Ruby, which had cinnamon sticks, paper oranges with cloves glued to them that smelled awesome, and paper coffee mugs with our logo. Two in the windows, and one across the faux fireplace, and if anyone ruined them, I’d kill them. They were fabulous. Holst said the only thing we were missing was the smell of real pine trees.

Walking through the Boy Scout lot, Holst held his coffee in one hand and my hand in the other and asked, “Hey, can you hold my cup a sec?”

“Sure,” I said and watched as he bent down. At first I thought he was tying his shoelace…but he was wearing leather boots, the kind you just pull on.

He bent down.

Then he looked up with his eyes smiling, his face smiling, and his palm flat with a little black box in the middle.

“I’ll give you a hint,” he said. “It’s gold.”

I looked around at the pine trees and asked, “Am I being punk’d?”

“No.” He shook his head and chuckled.

“It’s too soon,” I whispered.

“It’s not too soon. Getting married tomorrow would be too soon. This is just an engagement, and this part can take as long as you need it to.”

“Can you hold this for me?” I handed him my cup, nodded yes, and flipped him off at the same time.

“This is a thing now…isn’t it.” He chuckled. “You give me the answer I want, it just comes with the bird.”

Then, God knows why, because it was freezing down there, I kneeled in front of him and closed my hand over his and the little box. “I love you. But I need more time, Holst. Not a few more months. I don’t know how long. I just…I need…”

“I’m not going anywhere.” One at a time, he set both our coffees on the ground and, surrounded by pine trees, he pocketed the ring and placed his gloved hands on either side of my face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

I couldn’t say anything. They were just words, and I knew he meant every one of them, but that didn’t change the fact I was scared.

“Can I see the ring?” I asked.

“Are you going to wear it?” he returned.

“I…” …should not have hesitated.

“No.” He smiled. “But it’s ready when you are, my Katherine.”

“You’re too much,” I choked out. My eyes welled up, and I was pretty sure I was going to cry, but all of a sudden, and a great surprise to me, I changed my tune. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Baby, I’m not going to answer that question.” He grinned.

“It’s like I’m bipolar or something! I love you. You love me. We’ll have a long engagement because we haven’t been together long. The business is new, we’re new, so we’ll just do it when it feels right. So, give me my goddamn ring!” I stood up, and he tried to stand up, too, but I pushed him back down by the shoulder and said, “No way. You’re kneeling motherfucker.”

With his former huge smiling face, he joked, “When we have kids, you might have to curb that mouth.”

“And you might have to make me,” I returned, and that’s when he opened the little box. All I could see was a sparkling, emerald-cut diamond. Not quite ostentatious, but definitely gorgeous. I immediately demurred, “I won’t swear in front of the kids. And if I do, you can spank me.”