CHAPTER 36
DIESEL
T hey rented tables for the dinner since Melodi insisted we eat together for this one night—and when Christmas comes, we’ll do the same. Artistic Sage designed flower arrangements as centerpieces. Shay and Mylar spread candles throughout, so many that we don’t even need to turn on the lamps. The air is soft in the grand parlor, cleared to make space for our celebration. All the old velvet chairs are pushed to the side, coffee tables paired with the sets. In the center of the room we are prepared to eat a Thanksgiving dinner feast that blows my mind and is sure to send my taste buds to heaven.
Before we eat, Jett stands to say grace, and we all go silent to listen to him announce, “This holiday was born from the pilgrims and Native Americans coming together in what would later prove to be a betrayal. Let us take a moment of silence for that tragedy.” We bow our heads, the room silent until Jett continues, “And though our history cannot be changed, we can change the future. We now celebrate this holiday as a day of thanks, respect, and a promise that we will fight the wrongs of this world, and not close our eyes or look the other way when someone needs our help. We eat this feast, awake, thankful for our freedom, for the Constitution, for the rights people have fought to give us and the rights we fight to keep. For the friends we have made in each other. The family we have become. And the new members who have joined us.” He nods to me and Mom before scanning the rest of our club. “I’m proud to know all of you. Now enjoy Melodi’s cooking and drink up!”
Everyone cheers and digs in.
Mom is on my left, Celia on my right and the conversation flows easily. The feeling of pride in my chest is unparalleled as the night progresses to pies and coffee. Mel arrives with cognac, shouting in her southern drawl, “We’re livin’ the high life tonight! Touch any more beer and I’ll shoot you on sight! Hey, I’m a poet and didn’t know it!”
Fuse strolls in carrying a large silver tray full of small glasses that makes me turn to ask Celia, “Where did those come from?”
“Boxes in the basement where they keep the good stuff we don’t use except during the holidays. You should see how many ornaments we have!”
“I can’t wait.” Giving her a kiss I whisper in her ear, “You look great in this dress, did I tell you that?”
She eyes me. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Never,” I laugh.
Sofia is on her right, and pulls her into a conversation. Mom takes the opportunity to tap my leg under the table, whispering, “Here Sean.”
I look down to discover she’s offering me a ring, hidden by the tablecloth. “What is it?”
“This was the ring your father gave me.”
My eyes shoot up. “Mom!” Motioning for her to come with me, we rise from the table as I tell Fuse, “We’ll be right back.”
“Got you covered, kid,” he affably smiles, setting glasses down in front of our pie plates.
With as much self-control as I can muster I casually stroll into the foyer with her right behind me. Mom pauses at the the enormous paintings, and her eyes close for a moment. “These aren’t their family.”
“No, they came with the house.”
“Mmm, I can feel their spirits are here, watching over what they think is still their house. They’re not happy with the new occupants.”
Shrugging I eye the paintings for a second. “That’s because they’re a bunch of racist dinosaurs. And nobody cares. Now tell me what this is about.”
She places the diamond in my hand, clasping it as her voice softens. “I spoke on the phone with Jett for a long time about how you’ve been doing. He told me about Celia. So I got very silent and well, you know what I do.”
Nodding I feel my heart skip. “You saw how I feel about her, that it’s going to work out?”
“I saw my grandchildren, Sean. I felt them. They’re waiting for you and your future bride to shepherd their good souls into this world. This ring…it was given to me by the only man I’ve ever truly loved. Your father’s heart was pure and it lives on in you. Your eyes are clear now, like his. You’ve found where you’re meant to be. Now you don’t have to use this if you want one of your own—”
“Mom! No, I want it. This is more than I could…are you sure you don’t…”
“It will give you good luck. A happy marriage like the one I had. It’s my gift if you’ll take it.”
I gather her into my arms and croak, “This is amazing, thank you! It’s perfect.”
Separating, her eyes are liquid as she smiles, “I really like her, Sean. I mean, Diesel.”
Laughing I shake my head, “Call me whatever you want. I’m forever grateful for what you did here. I can never repay you.”
“I just want you happy!”
“Well, I’m going to do you one better.” Taking her hand I lead her quickly back into the grand parlor, calling out to the club. “Ciphers, can I have your attention?”
The conversations hush and all eyes follow me and Mom. We stop at our chairs and I give her a look to wait here. Offering Celia my hand I guide her out of her chair. She’s frowning, confused, until I bend one knee and hold the ring out to her.
Gasps spread throughout the group and people stand up so they can see better, as Celia’s free hand flies to her mouth.
“My mom just gave me the ring my father gave to her, and I wanted to know if you would wear it, as my wife. Celia Lewis, biggest badass I’ve ever met who kicked my ass on day one, will you please kick my ass for the rest
