I shake my head as Joey sets a Manhattan in front of me. Tom points at it. “I’ll take one of those. Please.”
“No,” I say quickly. “He’s not staying. You’re not staying,” I say to Tom.
Tom looks at Joey, points at the drink again with a smile.
“Okay, if you’re staying, then I want answers,” I say, pivoting my chair to face him.
“Sure,” Tom says agreeably. Suspiciously so. “What would you like to know?”
“Um, I don’t even know where to begin,” I say. “How about where the hell is Lolo? Aren’t you supposed to be down on one knee right about now?”
He checks his watch. “Almost. I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”
My mouth gapes open. “And you’re spending those minutes . . . here?”
“Her sister’s,” Tom says.
I stare at him. “Do you have a concussion? Whose sister?”
“Lolo. You asked where she was. She’s in Madison at her sister’s. Got a last-minute flight.”
“I . . .” I scratch my head. “I’m confused.”
“I can see that,” he says with a smile. “It’s very cute.”
“Take that back!” I say, affronted.
“I will not.” His smile goes wider.
I feel . . . something. Confusion mingled with . . . hope?
A hope I don’t think I can bear if I’m wrong. Can’t bear to lose him a second time. Panicked now, I hand Tom my phone. “Here. Why don’t you call Lolo, and we’ll get this all sorted out—”
“I’m not marrying Lolo, Katherine.”
Everything seems to go completely blurry, even though I haven’t touched my drink or Tom his. “What do you—what—”
“Cute,” he murmurs again with a smile. “She and I had a talk. It turns out Gorby’s not the only one who noticed that we, what was it . . . crackled with energy?”
“She dumped you because we crackled?” I ask.
“No. Well, sort of. I dumped her because we crackled. She dumped me because she wanted someone to crackle with and realized I was never going to be that guy.”
“You dumped each other.”
“I think we can stop using the word dumped, but . . . yeah. Pretty much,” he says with a shrug.
“Tom, I—”
“You want to know why I didn’t propose to you on Christmas Eve all those years ago? Why I broke from the family tradition I thought was so important to me?”
I shake my head, and Tom reaches for my hand.
“It’s because I couldn’t wait, Katherine. We were sitting there eating Chinese food, and I remember thinking that I would never, ever be as happy as I am with you. I wanted that feeling forever, and I wanted it now. I blurted out that proposal because I couldn’t wait another minute to make you mine.”
Tears stream down my cheeks, and annoyed, I wipe them away. “Why are you doing this?”
“You know how I finally found you tonight?” he asks, then leans forward. “Lolo.”
“Traitor,” I mutter, even though I already figured. She’s the only one who knew where I was.
“But she didn’t tell me right away,” Tom continues. “She made me wait. To ensure I’d get here just before midnight.”
“Why would—”
Tom places a box in front of me. The ring box.
My ring box.
Tom stands, pulls me to my feet, and holds my hands as he drops to his knee.
Happiness like I’ve never experienced before splinters through me.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you,” Tom says, echoing his exact words from Gorby’s truck. “I sure as hell didn’t intend to stay in love with you. But I’ve learned . . . lately, that the best things in life aren’t the ones you plan. The best things in life aren’t easy. The best things are the ones you hold on to for all your worth, and if you’re stupid enough to let go, then you fight like hell to get back. There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind that I’ll make mistakes. And that I don’t deserve you. But I also promise to never stop trying to make you smile, to make you happy. I promise that I’ll never give up. If you’ll only give me a chance.”
I laugh through my tears. “Gorby’s going to be mad. You forgot the ‘back to’ again.”
“I didn’t forget anything,” Tom says, kissing my knuckles. “That fake proposal in the truck. That was for you. Only you. Surely you know that.”
I pull my hand from his, surprised to realize it’s shaking as I reach for the ring box and flip it open. I start to pull it out, then meet his eyes. “Be sure, Tom,” I whisper. “Be really sure. Because I can’t lose the man I love a second time.”
Tom stands, then cups his ear and leans toward me. “Come again?”
I laugh. “I will not.”
“What if I go first? I love you, Kates.”
“I love you too,” I whisper.
Tom takes the box from me and rests his forehead on mine. We both watch as he slips the ring back onto my finger. Exactly where it belongs.
He lifts his arm and checks his watch. Grins. “Twelve-oh-one. Nailed it.”
“You got it right this time,” I tease lightly.
“We’ll get it right this time,” he corrects, bending his head once more.
My phone buzzes on the bar top, and Tom gives me an amused look. “I should have known you’d waste no time getting a new phone.”
“Ah, but it was important,” I say, lifting a finger to explain. “It turns out my emergency contact information was very out-of-date, and I wanted to update it—”
“No need,” Tom says, wrapping both arms around my waist. “Your old one’s right here. And he’s not going anywhere.”
His head lowers again. And again, my phone buzzes. Instead of getting annoyed, he smiles. “Go ahead. I can wait.”
I glance down at my screen. See Harry’s name. There’s only one reason, and one reason only, why my boss would be calling me on Christmas Eve.
I reach out and send the call to voicemail, then turn back to Tom.
“Merry Christmas,” I whisper.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispers back. And then he kisses me.
The Grinch’s heart grew three sizes on Christmas Day.
Mine? I wouldn’t know.
It belongs to Tom.
And always has.
EPILOGUE
Christmas Eve, One Year Later
“It’s not fair!” Clara exclaims in the too-loud voice of a six-year-old who snuck too much of the Christmas cookie dough. “Why does Grandma get to open a present early, and the rest of us have to wait for morning?”
“Shh,” Meredith says, smoothing a hand over her hyper daughter’s ponytail. “You heard Uncle Tom. This is a gift for the whole family. Grandma’s just the one to open it.”
“Ehhhhhh,” Katherine makes a skeptical noise. “Gift might not be the best word.”
“Definitely not,” Tom agrees, reaching out to kiss his wife’s temple. “More like a potential termagant?”
“Quite possibly,” Katherine says, scooting over on the couch of her in-laws’ living room to make space for her niece to snuggle up beside her.