Plight(67)

"You don't need to apologise, Lots. She was right."

He nodded and moved to sit on his arse, pulling out from behind his back a box of Cheezels.

I laughed and snatched them from him. "First dibs!"

"Cheat."

"That's not cheating. You snooze you lose."

"Technically, you snooze you sleep, and when you sleep, your body rejuvenates. That's far from losing."

Shaking my head, I opened the box and split the foil bag, the waft of cheese hitting my nose. "Mm  …  yum. They smell so good. Why do they always smell so good?"

"Artificial flavourings."

My head tilted and my eyebrow rose.

"What? Truth." He reached into the box and stole the first one while his glittering eyes distracted me. 

I whacked his arm. "Hey! I had first dibs."

"At my heart, yes. At this Cheezel, no."

Heat flushed my face, my heart beating a song and dance at his words. I swallowed and looked down at the lemon, not knowing what to say.

"Do you want it?" he asked, waving it in front of me.

I tried to snatch it but he was too quick. "You're so mean."

"I'll tell ya what. You can have it, but you have to do one thing." My eyes met his, and he leaned in closer. "Marry me."

"What?"

Elliot took my hand in his, his soft fingers gently caressing mine. "Marry me. Say yes just like you did twenty-two years ago."

Tears pricked my eyes, the sense to hold onto my niche strong. "I don't know, Lots. I've learned the hard way that some people just aren't worth the fight, no matter how tempting their bullshit promises may seem."

He lifted my chin, his eyes magnetising mine. "I'm worth it. You're worth it. And that's no bullshit promise."

My God he was right. We were more than worth it.

Gasping, I sniffed and blinked back my tears. "Okay."

"Okay?" he asked, his grip on my hand tightening.

I nodded. "YES! Yes, I'll marry you. Now give me the Cheezel."

His shaky fingers slid the cheese ring onto my finger before he pulled me onto his lap and dipped me for a kiss, his lips crashing down on mine, butterflies - not real ones - once again exploding within me. In that moment, I let go of my niche, let it slip away with the breeze, bidding old fear farewell and welcoming new fear. Fear of marriage, living together, commitment  …  children. Children? Oh shit! And what about Dudley?

The sound of cheering and a window being pounded on, snapped me from my new fear. I looked in the direction of the house, finding our families standing at the kitchen window, Mum and Helen crying and embracing, Laura pointing to herself and nodding, and Samuel's little hands constantly slapping the glass.

"Wait!" I said, sitting back. "What about Dudley?"

"What about Pugly?"

"Dudley!"

"Yeah."

"You said Pugly."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did."

"Danielle! What about him?"

"We're a package deal."

He nodded, sadly, squinting as he deliberated the dilemma. "Riiiiight. This could be a problem."

A smile stretched across both our faces.

I whacked him.

He kissed me.

I whacked him again, this time, my whack, losing any whack it possessed.

"Doggy training," he mumbled against my mouth.

I smiled and melded to him. "Fine. Deal. Now, let's get married."





Twenty-two years ago I promised myself to a girl. We were eight years old. Neighbours. I gave her a Cheezel, pushed it onto her finger, and asked her to marry me.

She ate the Cheezel.

She also said, "Yes" but that we'd have to wait until she turned thirty.

I waited and waited, and through a series of fortunate events, convinced her we were meant for each other and, that one day, we would get married.

Today is that day.

Standing under the gum tree at Hillier Community Garden in my black tuxedo, my mother and sister by my side, all of us waiting as Danielle took tentative steps down the yellow brick road toward me, I let out a chuckle when she stopped, lifted her wedding dress and pointed her ruby red sparkly heels at me. The entire garden was filled with varying pastel coloured satin ribbon tied to chairs, fenceposts, and tree branches. The sun was shining, the flowers were in bloom; it looked absolutely magical, as if it were a scene in a fairy tale. And perhaps it was.



       
         
       
        

I'd practically waited my entire life for this day, this moment, when the girl of my dreams would float toward me to become my wife. Except, Danielle had never been the girl of my dreams, she'd been the girl of my reality, my best friend, and that was even better. Because dreams ended, reality didn't.