Chapter 27

Lucy didn’t see him at first. She felt like she was on a conveyer belt of people, being shuffled out of the terminal. She walked to the baggage claim, her mind cloudy and tired. She waited for her bag, irritated when it seemed to come last. Lifting it, she turned and almost ran into him.

“Let me carry that for you,” Alex said. His face was smooth, and his eyes looked her over like he was hungry just for the sight of her. Seeing him was doing strange things to her heart, her stomach, and her ability to talk. The loudspeaker crackled, telling passengers it was the last boarding call. Not for her. She was happy to stay off of planes for a while. There had been enough turbulence to unsettle even the most seasoned traveler. Alex pulled the large bag from her, leaving the camera bag on her arm.

“What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here,” she said, her voice tired and squeaky.

“Why not?”

“This isn’t… I’ve been on a plane. I’m all … plane-y. This isn’t what I planned,” she stammered. He hooked the bag on his own shoulder and took her elbow to lead her away from the baggage claim.

“What did you plan?” he asked.

“I was going to go home. Rest, clean up, and then come to you. To talk.”

“Hmm. That’s a good plan,” he conceded, looking at her with that smile that undid everything inside of her. “I had a plan, too.”

She stopped and looked at him.

“What’s your plan?”

He stepped closer, stealing her space, and leaned his face close to hers.

“My plan is to always pick you up at the airport. Unless I’m already with you. Then my plan is to drive us home.”

He took her hand and continued walking through the airport. She didn’t know what to say, so she let him lead. He held her hand for the whole ride home. She watched his profile, drinking in every angle of his face. It was such a good face. When he pulled up outside of his house, he turned the truck off but gripped the steering wheel. She waited in the silence. He looked over at her. Both of them undid their seatbelts.

“I was a jerk. I jumped to conclusions, and you deserved more than that. I told you that I believed in us enough for both of us, but when the chance came to prove it—to prove I believed in you—I didn’t. I was scared. Scared that I wasn’t enough reason for you to stay.”

She squeezed his hand, trying to find the words that were swirling inside of her, free-floating like dust particles. Almost impossible to catch.

“I wasn’t sure, either. The whole time, I wondered if the feeling of needing to pick up and go would wash over me again. I didn’t know how I would do it. It’s never been hard for me to leave. I overreacted because I didn’t believe in myself. I expected you to believe in me enough for both of us.”

“I should have. I do,” he said, his voice quivering slightly.

He got out of the car and came around to her side. He led her across his grass, confusing her by going around the side of his house. He stopped outside of his shed and stared at it, then turned to face her, letting go of her hand. He pulled a thin, rectangular packet out of his inside pocket and a key out of his jeans pocket. He held both in his palms.

“What is this?” she asked, looking back and forth. The white packet had a travel agency logo on it. The key was just a run-of-the-mill key.

“You choose. It doesn’t matter to me which life we have, but it has to be together,” he said.

“What?”

She looked up at him and down at the items in his hands, not understanding.

“If you want to pick up and go every month, we will. If you want to stay here, live in this town, and just travel on holidays, we can do that.”

“You don’t like traveling. You love this town. Your house,” she said, baffled.

“I love you. You’re my home, Lucy.”

Her lips trembled. She still didn’t fully understand, but she liked the parts she did.

“What’s the key?”

He handed it to her and gestured to the shed. Narrowing her eyes, a smile fighting its way to her lips, she unlocked the door and opened it. Inside had obviously been renovated recently. There was still traces of sawdust on the tiled floor. The walls had built-in shelving, and a long, high table stood in the center of the room. The sunlight was coming through the windows, but she could see the blackout blinds hovering above them. There was a door just to the right of the entrance.

“Alex, what is this?”

“It’s yours. You were talking about a place of your own. Sam researched photography spaces and did the best he could, but if the darkroom, through there, isn’t right or you want something different, he’ll come back and change it.”

She turned to face him. He still held the packet in his hand. She took it and opened it. It was a travel voucher. Enough for them to go anywhere they wanted. He put his hand in his coat pocket and pulled out a small, square, black box. Lucy gave a strangled gasp when he went down on one knee and looked up at her.

“Lucy, I love you. I believe in you, and I believe in us. I will spend every day, for the rest of my life, proving that to you. Loving you. I want to marry you. I want to spend my life with you. More than that, I don’t want to spend another day without you. Will you marry me?”

She bit her lip and covered her mouth with her hand. He stared up at her.

“I’ll be right back,” she blurted and dashed out of the shed toward his truck.

Alex got up off of the floor, trying not to freak out. She hadn’t said no and run off. She said she would be back. And she was, moments later. She had the photo album he had given her, and she handed it to him. His heart sank to the floor as he took it. He looked at her and wondered if she could feel the pain emanating from inside of him. Her hands were shaky as she brought them to her mouth then lowered them.

“I didn’t think I had a place here—in my family, in this town. I spent all my time traveling because I thought that I would be able to find myself—figure out who I was and what I wanted. It wasn’t until I stood still that I realized what I wanted is right here. My place, the only place that truly matters, that I truly belong, is with you. So when you open up that photo album, if you still want me to marry you, if you’re sure, then my answer is yes.”

He looked at her and down at the album in his hand, wondering what the hell she was talking about. Of course he was sure. He opened the album, certain he would find the key he had given her sitting in the top pocket. But instead, he saw a small, somewhat grainy photo. He pulled it out of the pocket and brought it closer. The thin film of the ultrasound tape felt smooth in his fingers. He looked at Lucy, who was all but vibrating.

“You’re pregnant,” he said, in awe. Disbelief washed over him. He looked at the tiny outline, a speck, really. He wondered how he could love something already that was barely the size of his thumbnail. He put the photo back in the pocket, closed the book, and placed it on the table behind him. He pulled her into him, staring in awe down at her stomach and placed his hand there. When he looked up, she was crying and biting her lip. “You haven’t answered my question,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

“Are you sure?” she whispered. He pulled the ring out of his pocket, slipped it onto her finger, and without giving her time to even look at it, yanked her close, covering her mouth with his, desperate to show her how sure he was.

“You’re everything. You. Both of you. I’m sure. Say yes,” he said between kisses, running his hands over her. Her hands moved over him, anchored themselves around his neck.

“Yes.”

She kissed him as frantically as he kissed her until she finally pulled back, breathing heavy, and looked at her ring.

“We’re going to get married,” she whispered.

“And have a baby,” he replied, still awestruck. She smiled so brightly it made his pulse race. She put her arms around him, snuggling into him. He kissed her again, whispering that he loved her, elated when she whispered that she loved him, too. Leaning back slightly, she framed his face and looked at him. He rested his forehead against hers as her eyes twinkled.

“What?” he asked, grinning.

“Nothing. I’m just really glad to be home.”