Page 197 of Always Meant for You
My jaw drops. “You had a lengthy conversation with Betty Young and my father?”
He nods, chuckling. “Words and everything. It changed me. We’re surrounded by good people, Mabel. People who love and support us. People who raised us to be strong and care for each other.”
“I can’t argue with that,” I say softly. “Elverna will always be our home.”
Voices rise behind us.
“Look, it’s them!”
“The Eat Elverna couple!”
“Mabel, we love your hat and boots!” a trio of young women call, then twirl in vintage pumps.
I smile and nod, my cheeks warm. “And I love your heels.”
Cal guides me toward a quieter corner where dried lavender sways in the breeze.
He takes my hat and sets it gently on a bench. His thumb brushes across my knuckle. “I wanted to do this here with the scent of lavender in the air.”
I study him, my breath held somewhere low in my chest. “Do what?”
“You’ll see. But first—what’s in your bag?”
I tilt my head, trying to read him. “My phone, wallet, and passport. Why?”
“Good. Now, open this envelope,” he says, handing it to me.
I peel the flap and reach inside. My fingers close around a slim booklet. I take it out. It’s a passport. The gold lettering glints in the light. I open it, my hands trembling. My breath catches as I stare at Cal’s photograph. His name is printed in sharp, precise type.
“You got a passport?” My voice thins.
“I did.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
I blink at him, then glance down at the photo. “You got a passport in a single day?”
He flashes a grin that nearly wrecks me. “Our friend, the governor, called in a favor.”
“You asked the governor to help with this? What did you tell him?”
“That I’m madly and hopelessly in love with you.”
“So, what does this passport mean?” I ask. I never imagined he’d have one of these.
“It means that I’m all in, Mabel. I want to build a life alongside yours. I want to see and experience what’s out there. You deserve the world, Mabel, and you deserve ahusbandwho wants to share that life with you.”
“A husband?” I repeat, my heart in my throat.
Cal drops to one knee and pulls a ring from his pocket. A loud collective gasp pierces the air. A crowd has grown. Phones rise.
Someone whispers, “I knew he loved her when I read that he named his cat after her. And oh my God, that Kathy lady online will be crushed.”
But I can’t focus on them. All I see is Cal. I admire the glinting object in his hand. Then every detail sharpens. And wait, I know this ring. I know what it means and who it once belonged to. “That’s my mother’s,” I say, a tear sliding down my cheek.
The ring gleams in the sunlight—a single round diamond held in place by four platinum prongs, set on a slender yellow gold band worn smooth with time. The past rushes forward, laced with lavender and love. And I feel them—Jamie and my mother—woven into this moment, a presence as real as breath. And in one swift, quiet beat, it all converges: who I am, who I’ve been, who I’ll always be, and the man kneeling before me, holding a piece of my past and my future in his palm.
