casual. “I always get excited before a holiday.”
“Me, too.” He sat on the edge of the bed and unbuttoned the top button of her nightgown. “I’m so excited I’m in pain.”
“They say pain builds character.”
Two more buttons popped open. “I certainly hope so, because if Edna catches me in here I’m going to be in a lot of pain.”
“Maybe you should leave,” Chris teased.
“Not on your life.” He eased her nightgown over her shoulders. His lips trailed lingering kisses along the curve of her neck as he spoke. “I wanted to give you some time to get to know me. And I didn’t want to create an awkward situation between you and Edna and Lucy.” His mouth moved just inches from hers. “Honey, I’m so lonely for you. I’ve taken so many cold showers…the inside of my cast is starting to mold.” His lips left a trail of fire down her neck as he headed to softer, more intimate places.
“I love you,” he whispered.
Chris shut her eyes tight in a rush of overwhelming love. She had felt oddly married to him at the kitchen key exchange, and now something else had been exchanged. Something very sacred and forever binding. She fell asleep, happily wrapped in his arms.
At four-thirty A.M. Chris’ bedside alarm rang out with enough fervor to awaken even the most intrepid sleeper.
Ken opened one eye and uttered a brief but effective expletive.
Chris slammed her fist down on the off button.
“Why is your alarm set for four-thirty on Thanksgiving morning?”
“Force of habit. I must have done it automatically.”
Slippered feet padded past the bedroom door en route to the bathroom down the hall. “You’d think a body could sleep on Thanksgiving morning,” Edna mumbled. “You’d think people would know enough to shut their alarms off when a holiday comes around. You’d think-” Her words were cut short by the closing of the bathroom door.
Ken turned to Chris with a look of utter horror. “I’m a dead man.”
“It’s okay.” Chris snuggled closer. “When she’s done in the bathroom she’ll go back to her room to get dressed, and you can sneak downstairs.”
“I thought this only happened on daytime television.”
“Daytime television doesn’t have anything comparable to Aunt Edna.”
Edna sagged in her seat, her eyes slightly glazed, her mouth hanging slack in her round pleasant face. “I can’t eat another bite. I shouldn’t have had that last piece of pie.”
Ken smiled with gluttonous satisfaction. “It was delicious. All of it.”
Chris looked at the turkey carcass with morose skepticism. “We’ll never finish it. Not in a million years.”
“It was a nice big bird,” Edna sighed.
“It’s as big as an ostrich,” Chris said.
Lucy wriggled in her seat. “Mommy, we’ve been sitting at this table forever.”
Ken stood and stretched. “Do you know how to play checkers?” he asked Lucy.
“Yup.”
“I bet if we get really involved in a good game of checkers we could get out of cleaning up this messy table.”
Lucy giggled and ran to get the checkerboard.
After an afternoon of games and a light supper, Lucy fell asleep in front of the tele vision set.
“Isn’t she something?” Edna clucked. “All done in by Thanksgiving.”
“This was the best Thanksgiving ever,” Chris proclaimed.
Ken grinned. “It isn’t over yet.”
Edna checked her watch. “Seven o’clock,” she said. There was an edge of expectancy to her voice. Her eyes rounded slightly and seemed to pull the corners of her mouth up into a secretive smile.
Ken slouched casually into a corner of the big overstuffed couch. He showed none of the eager anticipation that was apparent in Edna, but his face reflected the same veiled delight.
As if on cue, a knock sounded at the front door. Edna stopped rocking for a moment. “There’s someone at the door.”
Chris looked from Edna to Ken. She sensed a conspiracy.
Edna resumed her rocking. Creak. The chair tipped backward on its wooden rocker. Stomp. Edna’s feet slapped the floor. Creak, stomp. Creak, stomp. “Well for goodness’ sake,” she shouted with a final stomp. “Isn’t anyone going to get the door?”
Ken pulled Chris to her feet and pushed her toward the stairs. “Come on…we’ll answer the door.”
Edna followed close behind. “Me, too. I’ll help you answer the door.”
Smells fishy, Chris thought. Now what? A giant turkey with a bunch of balloons?
Chris switched the porch light on and opened the door to a young man dressed in formal livery. He removed his black top hat, smiled respectfully, and bowed. Chris looked beyond him, to the conveyance parked at the curb, and clapped her hands to her mouth. “Horses!”
The two perfectly matched chestnuts turned their heads at the sound of her voice but remained docilely still. Their leather harnesses were attached to a gleaming black carriage equipped with elegant candlelit lamps.
“Don’t that beat all,” Edna exclaimed.
Ken draped a jacket over Chris’ shoulders and guided her toward the carriage. “Pretty romantic, huh?”
Chris tipped her head back and laughed-he sounded so pleased with himself. “Yeah, pretty romantic.”
Chris and Ken settled into the back seat of the open carriage and snuggled together under a thick red plaid lap robe, as the driver clucked to his horses and began to drive sedately through the winding streets of adjoining subdivisions. Chris closed her eyes and enjoyed the crisp wintry air redolent of oiled leather and warm horses and Ken’s spicy cologne. She tilted her head to see the scattering of early-evening stars blinking behind scudding moon- tinged clouds. “This is so nice. I love this.”
Ken tucked the blanket securely around them and slid his hand covertly under her ski jacket, seeking the silken heated skin under her sweater. Their eyes met in an unspoken affirmation of love. She parted her lips in anticipation of his kiss. “I love you,” he told her as his tongue tasted her sweetness. “I love everything about you.” He kissed her tenderly. “And I love your daughter. I even love Aunt Edna.”
She knew he loved her and Edna and Lucy. And she knew what this was all about. This was a better proposal. This was the real thing, and this was going to require a serious answer.
Ken reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small blue velvet box. He opened the lid and took a ring in his fingers. The band was smooth gold that delicately swirled in carved vines around a brilliant two-carat diamond. He looked at her apprehensively. “I hope I’m doing it right this time.”
Chris nodded her head, yes. Words wouldn’t slip past the lump in her throat.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” Chris was surprised at the speed and enthusiasm of her answer. She had intended to think about it. Maybe even discuss it with Lucy. She sat up and blinked. How had that yes popped out?
He slid the ring on her finger and kissed her with more relief than passion.
The driver of the carriage tipped his hat.
“Congratulations,” he called over his shoulder. He slowed the horses and handed Ken a silver bucket with a bottle of champagne nestled in shaved ice. Ken expertly popped the cork, sending it flying into the night. The driver produced two fine crystal champagne glasses and resumed his clip-clop pace around the suburban streets.
Chris sipped at her champagne. “I love my ring. It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen-but it’s so big. And the carriage…” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “I love the carriage, too.”
Ken refilled her glass. “But?”
“But this is all so expensive. I hate to be an ungrateful nag, but honestly, you didn’t have to spend all this money. I love you as a carpenter. I love you even more as an unemployed carpenter.”
“Why do you love me even more as an ‘unemployed’ carpenter?”
“I suppose after Steven and his obsessive need for success, I find an unemployed carpenter to be less
