tears filled my eyes. How could one man be so wonderful? How could one man be so giving and charming and loving?
He was almost too good to be true.
Wait. Wasn't that a bad thing?
I gave him my trembling hand, anyway. He kissed my palm before sliding the ring on my finger. The platinum looked good against my pale complexion. I twisted the band with my fingers, and it slid easily because I was sweating.
Royce stood, his eyes intent and filled with so much love and desire my stomach clenched. "It looks good on you here," he said, "but I want to see how it looks on you in bed."
Slowly I grinned. Now there was something guaranteed to drown out my fears.
Having spent the day in bed, Royce and I arrived at my mom's five minutes late for dinner. Yes, late. And I didn't even feel guilty. For the occasion, my mom had donned a formal, black sequined dress, two strands of pearls and all of her rings. Jonathan wore a suit and tie.
Royce and I were in jeans and T-shirts. "I thought this would be a relaxing family dinner," I said.
"I never thought this day would come," my mom said, grabbing Royce by the arm and leading him inside. "So excuse me for wanting to celebrate. Royce, come in, come in. I'm so pleased to finally meet you. Naomi has told me so much about you."
"Anything good?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Well, no," she admitted, "but you can't be all bad if you won her hand in marriage." She barely paused for breath. "I'd be so thrilled if you called me Mom. You are going to treat my baby right, aren't you?"
"Without a doubt."
The delicious scent of fresh-baked foods filled the house. I inhaled deeply and my mouth watered. I might be a nervous wreck, but I hadn't lost my appetite.
"Naomi!" Jonathan pulled me to him for a hug. "So glad to see you."
I returned the gesture, still not knowing what to make of his behavior lately. I continue to have no clue what he was doing with Nora.
He drew back, smiling, and turned his attention to Royce.
"It's nice to meet you," he said, holding out his hand. He and Royce shook.
"You, too. I've, uh, heard a lot about you."
"Did Naomi mention I'm a therapist? I'd be happy to give you both premarital counseling. Not enough couples do that, you know? Which is why divorce is so prevalent."
"We don't need counseling," I said. "Really. We get along very well."
Disappointment washed over Jonathan's features. "I doubt you've overcome all your relationship fears, Naomi, and being as Royce is nearing forty-you are under forty, aren't you?"
"Yes," Royce answered, clearly fighting a grin.
"And hasn't ever been married," Jonathan finished, "I think it's safe to say you could both use some professional help before you say your vows."
I rubbed my temple. Dear Heavenly Father. Strike me down. A jew locusts will do the trick. Or a plague.
"My Lord," my mom suddenly cried. "Your ring. Look at your ring, Naomi. It's lovely. Not at all like that fifty-pound monstrosity Richard gave you. I know how you hated that thing. Didn't it cause carpal tunnel syndrome? This one is perfect. It's a good size, but won't cause any muscle damage."
I almost covered my hand; it felt odd having people stare at one finger as if it were a priceless object. But I didn't. I allowed Mom and Jonathan to look, oohing and aahing. Royce had picked the perfect ring for me, and I was proud of it. Proud of him.
"Naomi," Jonathan said, "you really should consider keeping a wedding journal."
I'd seen brides writing in their wedding journals, and had always thought it kind of silly. I wasn't a sentimental person. I didn't want to write about my feelings. "We'll see," I said noncommittally.
"You'll be so happy you did," my mom said. "You'll be able to savor the memories forever."
"And work through some of your problems," Jonathan added.
"Everything smells wonderful, Mrs.-Mom." Royce wound his arm around my waist, drawing me into the warmth and strength of his side. "Is it time to eat?"
"Yes, but... I thought we'd all sit and talk first. Have a drink, maybe. Oh, maybe I'll break out my own wedding journal that Jonathan gave me when he proposed. We can read some of the passages."
I massaged my neck.
"First, we have some questions for Royce," Jonathan said, giving her a pointed stick-with-the-plan glance. "We'd really like to get to know him better."
"Please, guys. No."