But do I want to stroll back through the memories that jar is likely to call forth? I put them in there with Buck, so…
“Sure, we may as well. There’s no telling when we’ll both be in this spot at the same time again.”
Buck twists the lid off and hands me the jar.
A little kernel of excitement blooms in my chest. “I can’t even remember what I put in here. Do you?”
“I think so. I think there’s some bubble gum, an action figure, maybe a picture or something.”
I pull out the first thing my fingers touch, a piece of notebook paper folded around something.
Holding it up to him on my flattened palm, I ask, “Was this yours or mine?”
“That must be yours.” His dimples deepen.
I lay the paper aside and move to reach into the opening again.
Buck’s hand stills mine. “Let’s do this one at a time. Open it. Let’s see what it is.”
I shrug. “Okay.”
The old paper is in surprisingly good shape to have been in the ground in a glass jar all these years. I pull the edges, and as it opens, a pencil and crayon drawing appears, stacked atop another sheet.
I smile. I remember this. It was from school. The teacher told us to draw what we’d do when we grew up. Heat rushes over my cheeks. Two stick figures smile up from the page, the one with a top hat, the other wearing a veil. The childish handwriting labeled them as Buck and Loula Mae.
Buck bumps my shoulder with his. “So you’ve always wanted to marry me, eh?”
I shake my head. “Naw. I was young and didn’t know any better.”
“Ah, I see. What’s behind that one?” He flicks at the edge of the page, pushing it to the side.
The paper on the bottom is blank. In the middle of the creased page lies a ring. A gasp escapes me as my fingers cover my mouth. I fumble with the papers, dumping them and the ring onto the blanket as I scramble to my feet. I back away a couple of steps. My heart fumbles to find its next beat.
Buck snatches the shiny object from the quilt. He gets to one knee, holding up the small ring—not the one from the blue box. I know this ring.
It’s Nan’s.
I take another step away.
“Loula Mae Fontaine, if you run off on me, I’ll have to tie your ass to a chair next time. So, just wait. Hear me out, and then you can decide if you want to run from me, though I’m hoping you’ll run to me.”
My heart thrashes and my lungs are on vacation.
“I bought this property. It’s mine, but I hope to make it ours. I want to build a home, a life with you. That life we pretended to have as children, it can be ours—right here. Will you honor me by being my wife?”
My eyes dart from tree to tree, and I check behind me. No cameras, no crew.
“This isn’t for the show?” Can he mean it?
The rush of blood through my ears almost drowns out his next words.
“The other one wasn’t for the show either. But you thought it was, and I decided it was probably best to do this in private. I want you to know it’s from my heart. Please, Lou, be my wife?”
“Seriously? You want to marry me again? What if…what if it doesn’t work? We’re so different now. You’re Mr. Hollywood Bad Boy, and I’m—well, I’m Loula Mae Fontaine and not much of anything else.”
He lifts his eyes to capture my gaze again. “Lou, some things have changed about us since the first time I proposed to you under this tree. But one thing has never changed: I’ve loved you forever, and I’ll continue to love you into eternity. Please, let me do that loving up close instead of from a distance.”
“But you’re leaving in a few days.”
“Marry me and come with me. Stay with me every day for the rest of our lives.”
“But—”
Buck stands and pulls me to him. “Do you want to marry me, Lou? Or do you just want to come up with a ton of excuses and be a total pain in the nads?”
I bury my face in his muscled chest. “I’m always going to be a pain in the nads, Buck. Are you sure you want me?”
“Fuck yeah, I want you. Is that a yes?”
I nod.
He takes my shoulders pushing me away and looking into my eyes. “Yes?”
Giddiness unlike anything I’ve experienced overtakes me. Breathless, I have to force myself to inhale.
I drop my head back and shout into the canopy above. “Yes. For fuck’s sake, yes! I’ll marry you—again—you idiot.”
Buck yanks me into his arms, his mouth closing over mine.
He pulls back, his eyes questioning. “So, you love me again?”
“Lord, you’re dense. Of course I love you. I never stopped.”
EPILOGUE