“Jameson picks me up here,” I say and give him the fake stink eye.
Dad shrugs his shoulders and leads me toward the front door. I swipe my phone from the breakfast bar on the way out and just go with it. Jameson normally takes the elevator up to my parents’ apartment to pick me up before we head home together.
“Is there something going on you’re not supposed to tell me about?” I ask and poke my dad in the ribs.
“You’re poking the founder and CEO of a multinational corporation who can—quite easily—buy and sell you on the black market should he so desire,” he says flatly.
“And?” I say. “I also poked the man who used to change my diapers.”
“Way to humble an old man,” he says as we exit the elevator and head for my apartment.
Dad knocks loudly on the door. Again, weird. Then he takes a step back and props his foot in a way like he’s trying to block something. I can hear Jameson moving around on the other side. He curses at something, which causes Dad to laugh, then it sounds like he runs into something else—a wall, maybe—before I hear what I think is hopping. Finally, he opens the door with one hand behind his back and a very telling smile on his face.
“You got this?” Dad asks. I catch him eyeing the floor and doorway nervously.
“Yeah, we’re good, Chris,” Jameson says and opens the door even farther.
This setup seems awful fishy. Either he’s going to tell me he’s pregnant—a thought that makes me literally snort—or he’s proposing again. I almost clap my hands together and do a little dance, but that seems over-the-top even for me. I settle for entering our sparsely-decorated abode.
“Close the door, babe,” Jameson says. He still has one hand behind his back, and he’s gritting his teeth. I do as I’m told and stare at him like he’s grown a second head, because he looks super uncomfortable, and if he’s in pain, then we really should get him to the doctor.
“I love you, and I’ve thought a million ways how I could do this better than the last time,” he says and adjusts the arm behind his back. I think I hear something but brush it off. I must be imagining things in my excitement.
“Just do it,” I say eagerly and make grabby gestures with my hands. He winces and leans to the side before right himself again.
“Close your eyes,” he says.
I close them immediately. I stretch my left arm out and make my ring finger perfectly accessible. I’ve been waiting over two weeks for a ring to show off to everybody I know. I don’t care if the damn thing is made of string. I just want to be able to tell people I’m getting married. I want the bragging rights about who I’m marrying, because that’s the real prize.
How are you, Melanie?
I’m marrying Jameson Hayes.
Is your lunch to your liking?
I’m marrying Jameson Hayes.
Is there anything not Jameson related going on in your life?
I’m marrying Jameson Hayes.
“Now, be careful,” he says. He bends my arms into a cradling position and shushes me, but I’m not saying or doing anything, so I don’t know what that’s about. A moment later, I feel fur in my arms, and when I open my eyes, I find the sweetest, tiniest, little baby kitten in my arms.
“You got me a kitten?” I whisper and hold the little fur ball close to my chest. The kitten digs its tiny nails into my arm but then pulls back and stares up at me with big gray eyes.
“I got us a kitten. You have to share,” he says in a warning tone. I look up to see him rubbing his arm. It’s red and scratched from Jamie’s claws.
“Is Jamie a boy or girl?” I ask and rub under the kitten’s chin with my thumb.
“Girl,” he says then pauses. “Wait, Jamie?”
“Clearly she’s named after her daddy,” I say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because hello?
My finger under her chin knocks into something hard. I inspect her purple collar and turn it around to find a beautiful pear-shaped diamond engagement ring hanging off her collar.
“Oh my gosh, Jamie, it’s beautiful,” I say. Her eyes are still on me, and she’s starting to move like she’s curious about me and no longer using her itsy bitsy claws. “Did you get mommy a ring?”
“Um, I bought that for you. The, uh, cat came from me, too,” Jameson says and reaches over to free the ring from the collar and then reattaches the collar around her neck. I give Jamie another little pet and look back up at Jameson. He takes my left hand and holds it between his.
“Marry me, Lulu.”
“Well, it is in the best interest of the children,” I say playfully.
He scoops Jamie from my arms and gently places her on the couch then returns to me and slides the ring onto my awaiting finger.
“You’re a little more excited about the cat than the ring. It’s not what I expected,” he says and leans in for a kiss but stops short, his nose grazing along the side of mine.
“The kitten was unexpected,” I say in my defense. “I already know I’m going to marry you.”