Sitting around the campfire in our front yard, the noise was the most pleasant sound that I heard in a long time. The crackling of the fire and the laughter of my aunts, uncles, and cousins as they told stories about things that had happened in the past. Hunting stories, quading stories, and farming stories tended to be the most popular and even though I’d heard them before, it was still nice to hear them again.

At the moment, however, I was playing with the teardrop pendant that Grant had given me and marvelling at how red the ruby looked when it caught the light of the fire. Nick sat beside me, beer in hand and plate of food in the other as someone threw another log on the fire and a wall of sparks went up. Some landed on the blanket I had covering me, but I brushed them away before I could start on fire.

My mom came over and put a hand on my arm.

“Are you warm enough? I’m going in the house for more drinks, so I can get you a blanket.”

I shook my head. I was already roasting like a marshmallow over the fire. Hence my fear of the sparks.

She left and I dropped the pendant back onto my chest, watching as the flames hurried to devour the new wood.

“Grant would’ve loved this.” I muttered, mostly to Nick. “He liked it when we all sat around like this.”

“Have you called him yet?”

I shook my head.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve attempted to dial a couple times but couldn’t force myself to push the send button. He’s been out of his casts for a week, if he wanted to see me he’d be here by now.”

“He called me you know.”

My head snapping around like some sort of possessed bobble-head doll, I stared at him.

“And?”

He shrugged and grabbed a bun off his plate, shoving it into his mouth.

“He asked how I was doing, what the family was up to. The poor guy is just lonely and we were pretty good friends.” Stopping, he picked up a piece of cheese daintily. “He asked about you.”

He had? My heart started to flutter in my chest with excitement. So he did think about me.

“What did you say?”

Chewing thoughtfully, he pointed at me with his pinkie finger.

“I told him about your emotional state. He sounded a tad upset about that.”

Oh my God!

“You didn’t tell him—”

“That you were so upset sometimes that you couldn’t function properly? No. I told him that it was evident you were missing him terribly and needed to speak to him but didn’t have the courage to call. But I used more manly terms.”

Well, that was alright I suppose. Suddenly tired, I glanced at my watch and started to stand.

“And I can see your insights have him beating a path to my door.” Shoving the blanket aside, I stood up and stretched gently. Lawn chairs are horrible. Not only are they incredibly comfortable but they put your ass to sleep and stiffen everything until it feels like you’ve been beaten; you don’t even realize it until you stand.

Memo to self: Incorporate lawn chairs into world domination plan?

He shrugged and kept going after the food on his plate. End of discussion, I suppose.

Announcing that I was going to bed had my relatives all saying good night at once and some even waving. My dad wouldn’t let me leave until I kissed him on the cheek and my mom hugged me.

Bunch of weirdos, I’m telling you. Get a little alcohol into my family and everything turns into a love affair. It’s worse than taking hits of ecstasy; you’re soooo beautiful. Come here; just let me touch your face.

Sickening.

I didn’t need to bring it up that I was just as bad. There are no personal bubbles after so much alcohol.

A truck pulled in and everyone turned to look, nobody jumping up and down with excitement. We had sent the soberest person to the liquor store for more beer and some CD’s that had been left at one of my cousin’s houses. It only made sense that they should be pulling in.

Moving toward the house, I got under the front porch light and was about to reach for the doorknob when everything suddenly got very quiet. The only sound behind me was the crackling of the fire and it made me think that somebody was about to spring a practical joke on someone else. Everybody tense and waiting for the payout.

“Alright.” I groaned, turning around. “What did you guys do—?”

I froze, breath catching in my throat.

Standing at the bottom of the steps was Grant. Hair as long as before he cut it and falling on his forehead. Ribbed grey sweater and black bomber jacket over a pair of black jeans, he looked exactly like he belonged. He was frowning gently, and the look in his eyes said he wasn’t amused.

My mouth moved once or twice before any sound came out.

“Hi.” I offered weakly. “Your casts are gone. Are you feeling alright?”

Shaking his head, he shoved his hands in his bomber jacket.

“No, I’m not alright.” One hand came out, producing the note that I’d left in his coffee can. “Apparently, the person I love more than life itself thinks I’m a moron.”

That was a little harsh. I didn’t think he was a moron, actually just the opposite. I was wearing the moron pants here, not him.

“No, that’s not—”

“Can I get two sentences in without you interrupting? I believe you owe me at least that after all the shit you’ve put me through the last month and a half.”

My brother, being the dork that he is, stood up.

“You give it to her!”

Grant turned and saluted him as he turned back. What choice did I have? Nodding slowly, I crossed my arms over my chest to get comfortable.

“Alright, go. I promise that I won’t interrupt.”

He nodded curtly, wearing his ‘office’ face as he shoved the note back into his pocket.

“Carrying on, I’m not a moron. You think I didn’t know what Marianne was capable of? I knew she was lying about being attacked but I couldn’t prove it to set her straight. So instead, I put a microphone in the centerpiece on the kitchen counter.”

That’s why it had been crooked and he hadn’t bothered to fix it. I opened my mouth, but he held up a hand to stop me.

“I had planned on sending Marianne on her way before that, but unfortunately I was put in a situation where that wasn’t possible. Not to mention, she left before then so I assumed that everything was back to normal.” He ran a hand threw his hair in agitation. “How could you think that I’d sell everything because of you? Not that I don’t love you enough to do that, all you have to do is ask and tomorrow I’d have everything gone and we’d be living in Cuba. That’s not the point. The point is that when you had suspicions that I was doing something, why didn’t you just ask me? I could have ended this before it even began!”

He stopped and I took that as my cue to rebuke.

“You were having meetings, it made sense.”

He swore under his breath and his shoulders sagged.

“I was having meetings because I was planning a big surprise for our anniversary dinner.” He admitted. “All those meetings were for you. I had hired a band, arranged for them to play our favourite song. I even convinced the head chef at the restaurant to make and perfect your favourite dish, which is completely foreign to French chefs, by the way. I even hired a damned guy with a dove. You know how much I hate birds.”

God was I confused.

“For what?”

He paced the bottom of the stairs.

“I had planned that while we were eating dinner, the band would strike up our song and then the guy would release the dove and it would land on the table.” He pulled his hand out of his pocket and held up a silver ring with a single diamond sitting on top. “Christ, I even bought you this because I didn’t know if I’d be able to get the one from my mom. The damned bird was supposed to carry it in its beak and set it in front of you. Tah dah! Do you see it now?”

My legs felt weak. He’d gone through all that trouble and I’d wasted it because I ran away.

“You were going to ask me to marry you?”

He shook his head slowly.

“Not were, still am. Although, there will be no birds this time and no finicky French chef.” He turned and pointed to the stereo outside that was blasting some country music. “And this, I guess, will have to be our song.”

He was asking me to marry him. Right there, on the front porch of my parent’s house with all of my relatives watching. Tears came to my eyes and I couldn’t help the question that rolled off my tongue.

“Why didn’t you tell your Aunt before? Why did you wait until she came for a visit?”

Shoulders slumping he kicked at a stone by his toe and made it ricochet off the bottom step.

“That’s my fault. I don’t know why I didn’t tell her. Maybe because, to tell you the truth, I can’t stand the woman. She’s a harpy and the thought of her makes my skin crawl. The whole, please be nice to her thing was because I was afraid that if I told you the truth it would look bad. I mean, what kind of man tells his girlfriend that the only sane relative in his family that remains is a bitch he can’t stand?”

My brother stood up, like he was confessing but my mom slapped him on the back of the head to make him sit down again. I laughed curtly.

“I told you that I don’t expect you to be perfect. You should’ve just told me that you didn’t like her and then I wouldn’t have tried so hard to please her.”

The fact that he was standing there, confessing everything in front of my relatives and without a drop of alcohol in his system was a lot. He was throwing it out there with little regard to what anyone else thought. And my family was riveted like the audience at an awesome movie. I expected popcorn to be passed around.

“It’s my fault.” He sighed. “I know that but you could’ve just asked and none of this would’ve happened.”

Standing on the edge of the top step, he stopped pacing and stood in front of me. For once, I was looking down at him. Ha ha, I’m taller.

So childish.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a different ring; the one his mother had given him.

“Please, James. I talked to Nick and I need to make this right again.”

That brought a screeching halt to the fairytale fog of happiness that had encased my brain. Fucking Nick. Anger replaced it and I took a step back, backing away from the beautiful offering that I wanted more than anything in the world.

“No.”

The crowd gasped and one of my cousins jumped up.

“Are you crazy?”

He was grabbed quickly and brought back down to his seat while they waited in anticipation. Grant frowned and lowered his hand.

“Why? You have to give me a reason that makes sense or I’m not leaving. I’ll sleep under your bedroom window if I have to.”

My mom snorted loudly.

“As if any man is going to camp on our front lawn. He can sleep on the couch.”

My dad put his hand on her arm to quiet her.

“I’m not going to marry you because it’s what you feel you need to do. Do the right thing. I told you that if it wasn’t for love, passion, or what you wanted to do then not to bother.” I cast a glaring look at Nick, who was grinning like a fool. “Not because Nick has a big mouth and told you that I’m pregnant. I’m not letting you be a martyr.”

Looking back at Grant’s face, I realized the mistake the moment I said it. His eyes were rounded and a hand came up to touch his chest. Mouth hanging open, his eyes dropped to my stomach and back up.

Bloody hell with double shitburgers and cheese.

“James…are you…?”

I winced.

“Pregnant with emotion?”

The crowd began to boo loudly and it made me yell.

“Alright!” I took a deep breath and let it out, my next words calmer. “Alright, I’m pregnant. There, it’s out in the open.”

Nick started laughing hysterically.

“Ha! You thought I’d told him!” His mom whacked him with an aluminium hot dog stick, silencing him. Have you noticed that my family likes to resort to violence? All the whacking and smacking going on, it was lucky we hadn't killed each other years ago.

Grant was still shaken; I could see it in his eyes.

“How long have you known?”

I groaned.

“A week. I was going to phone you, I swear to God, but I just…couldn’t. I didn’t want it to be the reason that we tried to force anything.”

He started to laugh, hysterically, making me take a careful step back. Ladies and gentlemen, Grant Hill has officially lost his marbles. He’s just as crazed as the rest of his family and about to venture forth on a one-way ticket to Nutsville.

“I’m glad you find this humorous.” I stated flatly, frowning at him. “I wasn’t a week ago, especially when I was hocking my guts into the toilet.”

Laughter dying to chuckles, he was still grinning like a madman and it looked like the stars were in his eyes they were twinkling so brightly.

“Christ, you’re still a retard.”

Why, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Thank you, now get out?

“Thank you for noticing.”

He shook his head.

“What do I have to do? Do I have to say it, right in front of all your family? Hell, I’ll scream it from the top of my building if you want or get an airplane to write it in the sky.”

“Do they still do that?”

It was a legitimate question, but it made him laugh.

“James, I have wanted to marry you since the moment we first talked about it. I wanted to be the man that made you so happy and give you everything you deserve. I love you so much it hurt to breathe while you were gone. Your condition should be living proof of how much passion I have for you. I want you to be my wife. I want to see you every day until we’re three hundred years old and can’t even remember our own names let alone eachother’s. I want to be able to watch you walk into a room and think to myself, that’s Mrs. Hill; Grant, you’re one lucky bastard.”

I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not…

Aw hell, everybody else was.

I burst into tears, not sure what to do with myself. It was the best, most romantic thing I’d ever heard in my life.

“I want that too.”

He came up the steps and took my hands, slipping his mother’s ring on my left hand while grinning like a fool. How could he not be crying? Wiping at my eyes, I looked at my hand and the ring looked like it belonged there the whole time. Everything was right.

“I hope you’re not too upset.” He said softly, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “But—”

“I’m pregnant you moron.” I muttered, sniffling heavily. “I get upset when my pencil lead breaks or the batteries die in the remote control.”

He laughed.

“No, it’s not that.”

Oh God, what now? I couldn’t take anymore stress tonight, even though it was happy stress.

“What?”

Looking sheepish, he fed me a lopsided grin.

“What do you think about Vegas?”

Oh no. I was not running off to get married by Elvis because of the old motto: marriage then babies.

“Absolutely not.” I bit out. “I’m not going to some sleazy chapel because we’ve taken this a tad out of order.”

“Then what—”

“We’ll do it at City Hall, with a judge.” I declared. “My mom is going to be there and my dad and anybody else who wants to come and then, after the baby’s born we’re having a real wedding like we were talking about before.”

He kissed me on the lips, making my heart burst with joy. When he leant back, he was still grinning like an idiot.

“Whatever you want. I’d marry you on the moon if it would make you happy.”

Could you do that?

“That’s what I want, Hill.” I muttered, moving away from him down the steps and back to the fire. I tugged him with me, scared that if I broke the contact he would vanish into thin air and this would be a day dream brought on by raging hormones. “Now, the pregnant woman needs Kleenex and food, stat. I don’t care what it is as long as it’s not still moving. And not anchovies. Dear God, if someone brings me anchovies…”

One big happy family.

Memo to self: Happily ever after.

Extra memo to self: I’ve never been pregnant or married before…this could be interesting…

--

Author Babble:

There it is! YAY! I liked the end, believe it had a true "James" end to it. Especially the pregnancy announcement. And did anybody else notice that her whole family seemed to know and Grant was the only one who didn't? I thought that made it better. And his little speech there, telling her how much he wanted to marry her; it made me cry when I read it back to myself. I also left room for a third story, if I get around to it. Could be about the wedding. OR! I could write about the pregnancy and then another about the wedding. I might as well milk this thing for whatever I can get out of it.