Page 33 of He Has Santa (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
“A girl has to grow up some time,” I say. “Bring it on. I’ll take all the limelight you can throw at me.” I smile bravely and my heart skips only one beat. Then it settles in like I mean it.
We never talked about how he’s going to introduce me and Nicky when she tells everyone there, Logan is her dad. Maybe it doesn’t matter because she has everyone so captivated all I can do is stand back and watch. She’s a chip off her father’s block.
That works well until Logan’s best friend on the team arrives and heads in our direction, zeroing in on us despite the enormous space and the crowd of at least a hundred people. Nicky is at home on the ice with Logan, but I’m at a table helping with hot coco, so they join me.
“Aiden’s here,” he says.
“I know who he is. I’ve been watching the Brawlers since I’ve been back home.” He grins. I don’t mention that I’ve been watching him play hockey for the past six years and especially when he went pro after only two years at Dartmouth.
“Hey, Logan. Merry Christmas,” Aiden says when he reaches us, but he’s looking at Nicky and me. “Who do we have here? Your sister? Your niece? I can see the family resemblance.”
“No!” Nicky squeals, “This is my daddy.” She leans into Logan, taking his hand proprietarily. I try suppressing a smile at the look on Aiden’s face.
“Aiden, this is Nicky. My daughter. And this is June--”
“Your daughter? You have a secret family?” Aiden looks at me. “And this is your wife?” He shakes his head, the disbelief on his face comical. My heart pounds as I wait for Logan to correct him, to introduce me. But Logan is having too much trouble trying not to laugh to say anything.
“Are you shit—kidding me?” Aiden shifts his eyes between the three of us, still outraged by Logan’s apparent audacity. “Seriously, dude, who does that? Who shows up one day with a wife and kid? Especially after all the….” He stops himself and shifts his eyes away from me, red creeping up his face in embarrassment or shame or something. “Well, you know what I mean.”
“After what?” I say because I want someone else besides me to feel the discomfort, to force Logan to say something, anything at this point. “Logan and I aren’t married,” I add.
Logan straightens his face then and looks troubled when he shoots me a glance. The discomfort inside me grows because I know what Aiden would say before he thought better of it. He was referring to Logan’s nightlife and other women. I wish I were suddenly immune to the blind jealousy that hits me. Sorting through the swell of emotion, I realize the insecurity doesn’t register, not that it’s gone, but it’s diminished. Maybe because I’m the mother of his daughter, perhaps the way he’s been with Nicky and my parents, but mostly, it’s the way he’s been with me. The fact that he’s forgiven me. The fact that he still wants me and says he loves me after six years.
It’s not exactly the commitment I’ve always craved, but it’s so much more than I dared dream for the past six years—though I dreamed about it anyway. I promised myself I wouldn’t blow it if I ever got the chance. If he forgave me.
So, I square my shoulders and smile a genuine smile.
I say to Aiden, “Logan is a confirmed bachelor, and I’m a widow. Does that explain everything?” I almost laugh at the stricken look on his face.
“Not so fast,” Logan says, putting a possessive arm around me. It’s the first time he’s done that in public since high school anyway. He restrained himself that night we had dinner with Darlene and Ken until we got to his house. But there must be something in me that remembers his possessiveness because I feel comfortable and lean into him like it’s the most natural and right thing in the world no matter who’s watching—like the last six years never happened. Or rather like the previous six years told a different story, the kind with a happy ending with the three of us together like a real family. If only it were for real and not a story.
Logan looks at me, and I see something in his eyes, past the admiration and lively fun, past the spark of desire. He seems unsure—just a little. And I wonder.
“Not so fast, what?” Nicky says, impatient with his pause. I’m kind of curious myself.
“What are you up to, Jonesie?” Aiden says.
“Jonesie?” Nicky and I both say at once. She’s puzzled, and I’m surprised. I haven’t heard anyone call him that since high school.
“Sure. It’s his nickname on the team. Everyone has one.”
“Never mind all that,” Logan says. He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small wrapped box. A reflexive gasp escapes me like I’m a cliché in a jewelry store commercial.
“Merry Christmas, Junie.” He hands it to me. I shiver, but not from the cold of the rink.
“Open it, Mommy. I can’t wait to see what it is.”
As I stare into Logan’s eyes, I ignore Aiden’s coughing fit and Nicky’s tugging on my arm. My hand shakes as I hold the small white box with the red bow. He tilts his chin at the box and shifts closer, puts both arms around me. He whispers in my ear.
“Open it, Junie.” His voice, strong and intimate, all uncertainty gone, creates a bubble so that I no longer feel like we’re in a crowd. I pull at the bow, and it comes off easily. Nicky takes it, and they all watch as I open the box with a snap.
Inside, sitting on a puff of white satin-like throne, is the most gorgeous diamond ring I ever saw. It’s gorgeous not because it’s large—because it’s not—or because it’s flawlessly cut or ornate, but because it comes from Logan, because it holds promise and commitment and because it’s the wish of every Christmas dream I’ve had since I laid eyes on this man.
“It’s beautiful and perfect,” I say in a breathless voice.
Nicky oohs, and aahs and Logan pulls me in close, with Nicky caught between us. His lips hover near my ear, and he says the words I long to hear, those magical words that cause butterflies and dizzy bliss.
“Marry me, Junie.”
