be.”
Meant to be…what did that mean? May’s pulse was racing, but her thoughts were cool. They were so different: She had a young daughter; he traveled all the time. May’s feelings had been horribly hurt during the last four days of not hearing from him. She looked him straight in the eyes.
“I’m flattered beyond words, really. This has never happened to me before,” she said. “But the thing is, I come with a daughter. You’re very romantic, and my mother and grandmother must be playing trumpets right now, but honestly, I can’t play around like this.”
“Play around?” he asked, frowning.
“Well, yes.”
“Do you think I would do that?”
“You might not mean to,” she said. “But you don’t know me—us—very well. You’d suddenly have a ready-made family, and it’s one of the more unusual ones around.”
“Unusual how?”
“Well, I’ve been single a long time, like my whole life. And Kylie’s very…” She searched for the right word. “Magical.”
“Do you think I do not know that, eh?” he asked, suddenly breaking into a grin, as if the whole dilemma had been solved. “She takes after her mother. Rose petals in a bottle—that’s unusual. You inspire her.”
“Thank you,” May said.
“ Bien sûr. You are the most magical woman in the world.”
“You should have met my mother and grandmother,” she said, laughing.
“But you will tell me about them, no? I’ll meet them through you. I know how important they are to you, May. I hear, by the way you talk about them. Your family will be my family.”
“I’ve always wanted that,” she whispered.
“Have it with me,” he said. “What are we waiting for?”
“To know each other!”
He smiled, taking her face in his hands. “I think we do already. The important parts, eh? In here.” He touched his heart.
Suddenly May thought of all the brides: all the proper Black Hall girls with long courtships, marrying boys they went to prep school with, men they’d met through their college roommates or sailing friends or law partners. She thought of brides who did everything by the book—correct and proper and eternally boring—and May began to smile.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“I might be crazy,” she told him.
“Yes, probably,” he said, making them both laugh. “But so am I. Terrible, the way my mind goes. You’re all I could think about, all through the play-offs. What’s the word for it—obsessed? But in a good way.”
“Good obsessed?” May smiled.
“Mais oui.” He touched her face, cupping her cheek with his hand. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”
“And you think that means we’re meant to be?”
“Don’t you?” he asked, stepping closer.
“I’d like to think that.” She suddenly felt her heart starting to pound.
“Then think it,” he said. “I’ll prove it as time goes on.”
“How?” she whispered.
“By loving you, May.”
May kissed him. His eyes widened with surprise, but then he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight until they’d had the chance to calm down. When they stepped back, May was dismayed to feel an ache deep in her chest.
“I told myself over and over not to hope for this,” she said.
“You did?”
“This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me.”
“Strange you should say that,” Martin said. “Because it did.”
“I noticed.”
“I brought something for you.” He was frowning slightly as he began to go through all his pockets. Once he’d reached into each of them, the frown grew deeper. But then he had it, and a great smile wreathed his entire face. Pulling a ring out of his front pocket, he started to slide it on her finger. The move was very smooth and romantic, but May was so nervous, she flinched, and the ring fell into the freshly turned dirt.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “Here, let me get that.” Kneeling down, she started to paw through the soil, but Martin gently grabbed her wrist.
“Let me.” Digging it out of
Meant to be…what did that mean? May’s pulse was racing, but her thoughts were cool. They were so different: She had a young daughter; he traveled all the time. May’s feelings had been horribly hurt during the last four days of not hearing from him. She looked him straight in the eyes.
“I’m flattered beyond words, really. This has never happened to me before,” she said. “But the thing is, I come with a daughter. You’re very romantic, and my mother and grandmother must be playing trumpets right now, but honestly, I can’t play around like this.”
“Play around?” he asked, frowning.
“Well, yes.”
“Do you think I would do that?”
“You might not mean to,” she said. “But you don’t know me—us—very well. You’d suddenly have a ready-made family, and it’s one of the more unusual ones around.”
“Unusual how?”
“Well, I’ve been single a long time, like my whole life. And Kylie’s very…” She searched for the right word. “Magical.”
“Do you think I do not know that, eh?” he asked, suddenly breaking into a grin, as if the whole dilemma had been solved. “She takes after her mother. Rose petals in a bottle—that’s unusual. You inspire her.”
“Thank you,” May said.
“ Bien sûr. You are the most magical woman in the world.”
“You should have met my mother and grandmother,” she said, laughing.
“But you will tell me about them, no? I’ll meet them through you. I know how important they are to you, May. I hear, by the way you talk about them. Your family will be my family.”
“I’ve always wanted that,” she whispered.
“Have it with me,” he said. “What are we waiting for?”
“To know each other!”
He smiled, taking her face in his hands. “I think we do already. The important parts, eh? In here.” He touched his heart.
Suddenly May thought of all the brides: all the proper Black Hall girls with long courtships, marrying boys they went to prep school with, men they’d met through their college roommates or sailing friends or law partners. She thought of brides who did everything by the book—correct and proper and eternally boring—and May began to smile.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“I might be crazy,” she told him.
“Yes, probably,” he said, making them both laugh. “But so am I. Terrible, the way my mind goes. You’re all I could think about, all through the play-offs. What’s the word for it—obsessed? But in a good way.”
“Good obsessed?” May smiled.
“Mais oui.” He touched her face, cupping her cheek with his hand. “I couldn’t get you out of my mind.”
“And you think that means we’re meant to be?”
“Don’t you?” he asked, stepping closer.
“I’d like to think that.” She suddenly felt her heart starting to pound.
“Then think it,” he said. “I’ll prove it as time goes on.”
“How?” she whispered.
“By loving you, May.”
May kissed him. His eyes widened with surprise, but then he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight until they’d had the chance to calm down. When they stepped back, May was dismayed to feel an ache deep in her chest.
“I told myself over and over not to hope for this,” she said.
“You did?”
“This kind of thing doesn’t happen to me.”
“Strange you should say that,” Martin said. “Because it did.”
“I noticed.”
“I brought something for you.” He was frowning slightly as he began to go through all his pockets. Once he’d reached into each of them, the frown grew deeper. But then he had it, and a great smile wreathed his entire face. Pulling a ring out of his front pocket, he started to slide it on her finger. The move was very smooth and romantic, but May was so nervous, she flinched, and the ring fell into the freshly turned dirt.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “Here, let me get that.” Kneeling down, she started to paw through the soil, but Martin gently grabbed her wrist.
“Let me.” Digging it out of
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