Page 63 of The Pumpkin Spice Proposal
We all looked out the window where June was, indeed, taking photos of us through the glass.
“Should we wave?” I asked.
“Might as well,” Mario said.
So we did, all three of us waving at June, who waved back enthusiastically before running off, probably to upload the photos immediately.
“This is our life,” I said.
“This is our life,” Mario agreed, reaching over to wipe the hot chocolate from Olivia’s face.
“Our weird, meddling, absolutely perfect life,” Olivia added.
And looking at them both—my daughter and this man who’d learned to stay—I couldn’t argue with that.
My phone buzzed. A notification from June’s Facebook group:“BREAKING: Local family too cute for words at diner! Is this the wedding announcement we’ve been waiting for?”
“Not yet, June,” I murmured, my gaze dropping to my right hand. The washer ring Mario had made for me glinted softly, catching the light like promises I hadn’t dared hope for before. “Not yet.”
Mario caught my hand, his thumb brushing over the ring. “But someday?”
I thought about the pipe cleaner ring he still carried in his pocket—I’d seen him transfer it carefully every morning. About the house he’d bought three doors down. About how Olivia had already started calling his parentsNonnaandNonno.
“Yes,” I said softly. “Someday.”
“I can wait,” he said.
“I know.”
“I’m getting really good at staying put.”
“I noticed.”
“Mom, Mario, you’re being gross again,” Olivia announced.
“Sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay. June says it’s important to see healthy relationship dynamics.”
“June says a lot of things,” Mario muttered.
Through the window, the Christmas tree lights twinkled in the square, families were taking photos, and somewhere, June was probably drafting her next newsletter about our “Christmas miracle romance.”
But inside the diner, it was just us. Our little family that had started as a fake and become the most real thing in my life.
“Next Christmas,” Olivia said thoughtfully, “can we get matching ugly sweaters?”
“Absolutely not,” I said.
“Absolutely yes,” Mario said at the same time.
We looked at each other.
“We’ll discuss it,” we said in unison, then laughed.
“You’re synchronizing again,” Olivia observed. “June says that means?—”
“Let’s just enjoy our hot chocolate,” I interrupted.
