Page 74 of Checking Mr. Wrong
“What aboutAthletic Edge? Is that on your agenda?”
“Frank is happy to give me freelance work ‘if you’re really serious about moving home, kid’ were his exact words.” She shrugs. “I’ve not ever been this loose and free, and I don’t know what to do with it.”
“So no plans?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. What’s that Martin Luther King quote? ‘You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.’ That’s my motto right now. I don’t need to know, I’m just gonna follow my heart, and it’s bringing me home.”
“Is there anyone else that’s a part of that decision?” I ask, already knowing the answer but still…I want to hear it for myself.
She grins mischievously. “Oh, you bet there is. My mother had a lot to do with it.”
“Mabel,” I say, cocking my head to the side and trying really hard not to laugh. “Is thereanyoneelse?”
“Of course there is,” she says, biting her lip as her cheeks flush pink. “His name rhymes with Dasher.”
“I’m a reindeer?”
“You’re a unicorn,” she says as she steps down. “But I want you to be my unicorn.”
“I’m in shock.” I level my gaze, my heart threatening to burst, every inch of my body alive and snapping.
Mabel closes the gap between us and grabs my jersey in both fists. “Good,” she whispers. “That’s the effect I was going for…”
And then she kisses me. It’s the kind of kiss that steals the air from your lungs, the kind that makes the world disappear. Her lips are warm and insistent, her fingers twisting into my jersey like she never wants to let go. I pull her closer, my hands steadying her waist, holding her like she’s the only thing keeping me from drifting away.
The crowd erupts, but it’s just noise in the background. All I feel is her, all I see is her, all I want is her.
When she finally pulls back, her forehead rests against mine, her breath mingling with mine. “So…was this grand enough for you?” she teases, her voice low and breathless.
“It’s perfect,” I say, brushing my thumb against her cheek. “You’re perfect.”
And then I kiss her again, because one will never be anywhere near enough.
EPILOGUE
MABEL
The smellof roasted turkey mingles with cinnamon and nutmeg as I balance a bowl of cranberry sauce in one hand and a basket of dinner rolls in the other. Mom moves through the kitchen like a general in a holiday battle, barking orders with one hand on the gravy boat.
“Don’t forget the sweet potatoes, Mabel,” she calls, as if I could forget the golden casserole that’s been sitting under the broiler for the last ten minutes, its marshmallows toasting into puffy clouds of perfection.
“I’ve got it, Mom,” I say, setting the rolls on the table where Asher is already stealing a seat next to Murray. Asher’s grin spreads wide as he catches my eye, holding up a fork like a trophy.
“What? I’m ready to eat,” he says, trying to grab at me as I walk past, managing to swerve his swipe.
Mom steps back into the dining room with a triumphant flourish, holding the platter of turkey as though she’s presenting the crown jewels.
“All right, everyone, settle down. This masterpiece isn’t staying warm forever,” she declares, setting the platter down at the head of the table. Murray helps her with a chair, and oncewe’re all seated, she takes a moment to look around the table, her eyes softening as they land on each of us.
“Before we dig in, I’d like to say a few words,” she begins, picking up her glass of sparkling cider. The room goes quiet except for the gentle crackle of the fire in the living room.
Mom clears her throat, her voice brimming with emotion. “This year, I have so much to be grateful for. To have my family, my husband and my daughter, around this table means more to me than you’ll ever know. And Asher,” she says, turning to him with a warm smile, “I’m so glad you’re here. I can see how happy you make my Mabel, and that makes me happy, too.”
Asher’s cheeks turn pink. “Thank you, Mary-Ellen,” he says, although the words barely escape his lips.
“Murray, you’re the most patient human in the world. I’m so lucky you’re mine,” she coos, as she kisses the back of his hand. “You taught me about unconditional love and how good it is to receive it. Thank you.”
She looks at me, her expression tender, and I swear she’s on the verge of tears. “Mabel,” she says, her voice catching, “I have not said this enough in the past and I’m determined to make it up to you now. I need you to know I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard, and now, to know you’ve landed a job with the new television station coming to town next year…”
