Chapter 20
Ben.
Scarlett and I were just stepping out of the hotel. We were leaving it in the hands of the management, and the new staff we’d managed to hire.
“When do you think Dad will come back?” she asked with a groan. “It should be soon, right?”
“What right do you have to fucking complain,” I retorted. “There are people around to take care of the place, you don’t need to keep going there if you don’t want to.”
“But one of us has to be there,” she said defensively. “To protect the place.”
I just sighed and shook my head at her, rolling my eyes and ignoring her pout.
We broke off as we got into our respective cars. Scarlett was going with her son and husband, while I was driving by myself, out to the house I’d built for Ginger and Fern. It had been an uphill battle just managing that much, and in so short a time. Not even a year after we told Fern that I was her dad, a lot of things had changed. The greatest of all, was that Ginger, Fern and I finally got to live together.
For the past couple weeks, we’d been setting up the house, and it was finally ready for all three of us to move into. I’d had Ginger and Fern go ahead of me so I could finally check myself out of the hotel.
The drive wasn’t so long, and in no time we arrived. The distance from town meant Ginger wouldn’t be making walks at night, and I was all for that. Scarlett and Dan arrived a moment behind me, and they followed me into the house.
“Seriously,” Scarlett persisted. “What did Dad say? He didn’t tell me anything!”
“Right after the doc declared him recovered, he told me he wanted to come back, because his girlfriend, the whole reason he moved so far in the first place, dumped him the moment he had the heart attack because, like you, she was worried about the hospital bills.” The name we’d gotten from the doc had been more complicated, but according to Dad, that was what happened.
Scarlett sighed. “Well, I can't fault her. I thought it too. But it’s fine.”
“You’re okay with him coming back?” I asked to clarify.
She shrugged. “Sure. He’s still Dad, after all.”
“Fine,” I said, nodding. “If you’re okay with it, then I guess I am, too. He’ll probably be back by next week.”
Dan laughed, bouncing little Makas in his arms. “This family sure is growing at a fast pace!”
“No, no,” Scarlett countered. “It’s more like, it’s always been this big, and everyone is just coming together now.”
“True,” I said, shrugging.
We walked into the kitchen, and Fern came in from the backdoor, barreling right at me with Ginger behind her and a puppy on their heels. I picked my little girl up in my arms and twirled her around, holding her up high, before settling her properly in my arms, laughing at the enthusiastic puppy trying to bark at me.
“And how are both of my girls, hmm?”
Ginger walked over to me and gave me a light peck on the mouth. “You girls are doing just fine, but we’re both getting a little hungry.”
I smiled at the subtle prompt, setting Ginger down.
“Dan,” I called, moving over to the fridge. “It’s the guys cooking dinner tonight, so get over here.”
He sighed, resigned, as he handed Makas over to Ginger as he came over to me.
This wasn’t the first time we’d gathered like this, but it was the first time in my new house. While Dan and I got to working, Scarlett was out in the back yard with Ginger and Fern, marveling at all the details we’d put in. I hadn't had a chance to see the full effect yet. We’d set up the porch wide and hung up a bunch of little lights, along with an outdoor dining table. Because it was a warm summer night, one of the few left before we hit the fall and Fern started going to school, we would be dining out.
Once we were done, we set the food up and everybody sat down to eat, dinner table appropriate topics floating around because of the kids. Right afterwards, Scarlett took Makas upstairs to sleep in the extra bed we’d set up in Fern’s room for the times I’d end up looking after him. Fern insisted on staying up a little longer with the adults, and Ginger and I were both fine with it.
As we moved on to the wine drinking stage of dinner—with Fern getting grape juice—Dan and I shared a look.
“Scarlett,” he started, setting down his wine glass, and moving to stand in front of her, taking her glass as well and setting it down for her.
“What?” she muttered, blinking at him in confusion.
Ginger glanced at me, but I just smiled.
“You and I have been together for two years now,” he said. “So, I thought it was time I did this properly.”
He went down on one knee, holding onto her hand, running his thumb over the ring he’d given her. Scarlett gasped, her eyes widening as she put a hand over her mouth.
“Dan…”
“Scarlett,” he said again. “I’ve loved you for…well, to be honest, since a couple years ago, but I’ve wanted you from the first time I met you. I know things were a little bumpy for us, I left you to deal with things on your own for so long, and I’m lucky you still wanted me after that. We’ve waited till now, but I wanted to ask, will you marry me? Preferably, within the next couple months?”
It was such an intimate moment to watch, and I didn’t need to guess that my sister would definitely say yes, so I turned to look at Ginger instead.
“I thought you two were already engaged,” Ginger said, surprised.
“So did I,” I muttered sarcastically. “But that guy over there out of the blue asked Dad if he could have his daughter’s hand in marriage, he even tried to buy a ring again yesterday, and he dragged me with him,” I continued to grouse.
In the next moment, though, I also set down my glass, then Ginger’s. I got down on one knee, right in front of her, holding up the box open so she could see her ring. Fern was having a field day, squealing and jumping around us, the puppy running around her and barking in confused excitement.
I didn’t have as many words as Dan had, so I was very direct.
“Ginger,” I said, smiling softly up at her as she perfectly mirrored Scarlett’s pose. “Will you marry me?”
Her smile, when she dropped her hand from her face and let me see, was beautiful. Tears glistened in her eyes, but when she answered, her voice was loud and clear.
“Yes.”
The End.