He stood, the stocking carefully protected against his chest, the bear pressed close over his heart, and headed for the barracks and all those dog-piling ‘buddies’ of his. He was almost to the door when he stopped dead still and practically howled at the moon with laughter. All of a sudden he knew exactly what to do to set the seal on this proposal. Paybacks were such a…
Chapter Three
Marcy had finally stopped laughing, but her eyes were brimming with tears, blurring everything and giving it a starry-filter sparkle. She blinked them away and managed to finally get one hand up to her eyes to wipe them. She blinked and wiped again. But some of the sparkle just wasn't going away.
That's when she noticed something she hadn't seen before-something shiny and bright and small-tied to the front of the raft, just within her grasp. She reached out and tugged on the red ribbon holding it to the raft's loop. With that single tug it came loose and fell into her outstretched hand. She brought it up to gaze into its sparkling heart, to lose herself in its fire for a moment. A diamond engagement ring. A beautiful solitaire just like one she'd seen in the window that night right before Paul went to bootcamp and had caught up with her in front of Kay Jewelers. The night he hadn't proposed.
Marcy looked at it again and went very still inside. It wasn't a new ring. It was actually a very old one. She took a deep breath as the reality of what she was looking at truly sank in. In her hand she held the ring she'd seen in a picture of Paul's Great-Grandmother Dorothy. The one his grandmother and his mother had been given when they each became engaged. She gasped and the tears started to gather and fall for real.
A loud ‘pop,’ followed by the hiss of escaping air whooshed around her, and the pressure started to release from the raft pinning her to the wall. She watched it go down inch by slow inch to reveal the figure of a tall, broad-shouldered, chocolate-eyed, cinnamon-haired soldier standing in full Army dress uniform on the far side of the now ruptured Zodiac 8-man, auto-inflating combat raft.
Paul stood in the door, Ka-bar in hand, and grinned at Marcy as the raft continued to deflate until it was on the floor at their feet. Without a word he sheathed the knife, stepped forward to stand on the recently murdered raft and held out his arms. Marcy didn't hesitate for an instant. She launched herself across the distance, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips and began showering him with kisses.
"Mars? Mars! Marcy!” Paul said between kisses, which wasn't easy considering she had his head in her hands and her lips plastered to his.
She drew back just far enough to look into his twinkling eyes. “Yes, Paul?"
Paul gently eased her down off his waist onto her feet and took her face in his hands for a moment before stepping back to go down on one knee before her. He reached up and took the ring from her hand, kissed it, and looked up at her. “Margaret Helena Grayson, I love you with all of my heart. I always have. And I can't imagine going through this life without you by my side. Will you marry me?"
Marcy looked down at him. This was soooo much more what she had dreamed of back when she was a little girl orchestrating her Barbie's engagement to Ken and dreaming of her own proposal and wedding one day. Her tears fell so hard she almost couldn't see the man she'd loved absolutely forever. “Yes! Oh, yes, Paul. You know I will. I love you, too. I always have and always will.” She sniffed back her tears, gave a little hiccup and blinked. “Do I still get to keep the dog?"
She heard Paul roar with laughter an instant before she was swept up into his arms and kissed until the room was spinning around her and she forgot everything but the feel of his lips on hers and his arms holding her close. Which was why, when after a few moments Marcy became aware of the sound of applause, it took her a while to figure out what it was she was hearing.
As amazingly wonderful as being in his arms was right then, curiosity got the better of her and she slowly disengaged their lip-lock just enough to peek up over one of Paul's broad shoulders. Her eyes went wide. Now she understood why none of her neighbors had called the cops about the hippo butt in the front door… they were all in on it. Everyone from the whole block seemed to be standing in her front yard, along with several men in green army dress uniforms holding bottles of champagne and bouquets of flowers-more specifically, poinsettias in pots, as was appropriate for a Holiday Proposal. For Marcy that was better than roses. She gave a happy little sniff and buried her face against Paul's neck, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms fitting ever so nicely around his waist.
The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace as Marcy and Paul snuggled on the couch, Alex racked out cold on the floor at their feet. The last of the neighbors had left only a few minutes ago, encouraged by Paul's Army buds who had taken the hint of, “So, are you mooches ever going to get the hell outta here and give us some privacy?” in good stride, and translated it into the more politically correct, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I think we shouldn't overstay our welcome and let the newly-engaged have some time to themselves.” With much hugging and handshaking, congratulating and best wishing, they all filed out the door amid plans to meet for brunch the next morning.
"That was fun. You've got some great neighbors.” He nuzzled into Marcy's hair and pulled her even tighter against him.
"Yeah, I do. I'd always thought of them as a little bit too nosy, but I think I like having people around that I know. It's almost like living in a small town where everybody knows your business. I like your guys, too.” She snuggled down, burrowing into his arms as close as she could. “Are they going to keep you together when you're assigned or is everyone ‘to the winds'?"
"They're a great bunch, but they probably won't keep us together. We'll be sent to established units according to our skills and their needs. We haven't even gotten our MOSs yet.” He took another sip of the champagne and looked toward the door where everyone had filed out earlier. “I like knowing you have friends around while I'm gone. It's going to make it easier on me if I know there are people you can count on close-by."
"Whether I have these neighbors or not, I've still got Jeff and Sarah. And Mom and Dad are only a few hours away. And, I'm now wired in with the Officers’ Wives Club… Wow… I'm about to be an officer's wife.” She sat up straight and beamed at him.
"Marcy… you're really sure about all this? It's going to mean long stretches away from each other. You're young and you're going to want to go out and have some fun. And there's always the possibility of that knock on the door from the Chaplain's office…” His voice trailed off leaving the hard, cold facts laid out in front of them.
"I'm sure. I always have been. And it will be the same long stretch for you. Hey, I've got the women on base. They're always busy with some project or other. And the shooting club is coming along very nicely. We're actually thinking of entering some competitive meets. How'd you like to get outshot by a bunch of your wives and mothers, Oh Mighty Ranger of the South?” she teased lightly before going serious on him. “Plus, I do have friends from work and even a few from school who are in the area. I have family close to hand… and truthfully… where would I want to go without you?” She took his glass, finished off the champagne in it and set it on the end table before crawling into his lap. “As to that other consideration… hey… I could get hit by a bus or a lightning bolt tomorrow and you could live to be one hundred. No one's fate is written.” She turned his face toward hers and looked deeply into his eyes. “As long as you love me, I'll be fine. I'm an Army wife, you know."