Page 73 of The Kiss Class

I giggle. “No, it’s all clear. I’ll tell him tonight and my sisters.”

“They don’t know either?”

“It’s been the most difficult and easiest secret to keep.”

Pierre smooths a piece of my hair. “I don’t want to be a secret.”

I gaze into his eyes as they dip toward my lips. My voice, barely above a whisper, I say, “I cannot fathom how we’ve kept it so long . . . Unless—” But my fear that they do know and are waiting to strike gets lost as I sink into my fiancé’s lips. Even though I graduated from Kiss Class, this will never get old.

His fingers weave through my hair. Mine grip the back of his neck. Our breathing comes fast in this stuffy space surrounded by coats and hockey gear. In fact, I think I’m standing on a bulk box of pucks.

The kiss deepens and the sounds of the party fade. All I can think about is Pierre’s mouth against mine and the not-so-secret future that will soon be ours.

Then, a bright light shines in my eyes.

Wrapped in Pierre’s arms, I draw back slightly as the door swings the rest of the way open with a perfect view of the front room, complete with our guests and Ilsa at the piano. She hits the wrong note at the same time the many years’ worth of Badaszek belongings that had been stuffed in the closet—along with Pierre and me—avalanche toward the floor, taking us with them.

Pierre bolsters me with his body as we fall amidst hockey helmets, snow shoes, a bicycle basket, and a myriad of other odds and ends.

Lying on our backs and still holding hands, everyone gathers around us in a semi-circle. Pierre proffers myfather a faint wave. There’s no way to salvage my rosy cheeks, disheveled hair, and kiss-stained lips from the obvious conclusion they’re all likely drawing looking at us upside down on the floor.

Yes, we were making out in the closet, so I do the only thing I can think of. No, I won’t bear the lie any longer.

Holding up my left hand for everyone to see, I declare, “Pierre and I are engaged!”

My father nods, “I know.”

“You know?” Pierre and I say at the same time.

“Arsenault, when you came into my office, I knew you’d try again with my daughter. It couldn’t be avoided. I figured I’d stay out of it. Let Cara make her own decision for once.”

“Thanks, Dadaszek, but, um, we weren’t really in a secret relationship.” Much like the junk in the hall closet, the truth spills out.

My father’s eyes twinkle as if he also knew about that but opts to spare me further embarrassment.

A long silence follows before Ilsa says, “Congratulations! Also, I’m pregnant.”

Anna adds, “Cal and I are adopting twins!”

My father, known as one of the roughest hockey players in his day and bar none the toughest coach in the league, gazes at the ceiling with tears in his eyes and says, “Thank you, Kathleen.”

There’s a round of congratulations offered for all the good news.

Pierre helps me to my feet. He gives me an affectionate side hug and kisses me on the temple. “It’s true. Cara has made me the happiest man alive and I want nothing more than the opportunity to make her the happiest woman for the rest of my life.”

Dadaszek winks at me. I think. Either that or he hassomething in his eye, but I’m distracted because everyone claps nervously as if waiting for my father’s response.

He opens his arms, draws Pierre into a bro hug, and says, “Welcome to the family, Frenchman.”

They head into the den where Dadaszek watches hockey highlights and only emerge with massive smiles an hour later, discussing a play made during a legendary game back in 1992. Meanwhile, my sisters and I have been gabbing about our respective pieces of news. I’m going to be an auntie! And a wife! And my father’s assistant! All feels right in the world.

Then, an idea comes to me about how to save the Christmas Market. I tell the Mrs.Claus Squad, and they’re all in to raise money for the Cobbiton CAC with the help of our hockey team and my drawing skills.

Anna checks her watch. “We should get ready for this countdown.”

Ilsa returns to the piano bench to play “Auld Lang Syne.”

Pierre comes to my side and wraps his arm around me as we commence the drop to midnight. When the clock strikes twelve, we all cheer, and I have my first-ever New Year’s kiss.

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