If Only Forever
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“When do you think we should set a date for?” Emily asked.
Daniel looked at her with wide eyes. “Oh. I don’t know. You want to do that already?”
Jayne’s warning echoed in Emily’s mind. “We don’t need to fix the specific date but are we thinking of months or next year? Do you want a summer wedding? Or fall, since we are in Maine?”
She smiled but it felt strained. By the look on Daniel’s face, she could tell he hadn’t even thought that far ahead.
“I need to think about it,” he said noncommittally.
“I want a summer wedding,” Chantelle said. “By the harbor. With Daddy’s boat.”
“Think about what?” Emily said, ignoring Chantelle and focusing on Daniel. “There are only four options. Sunshine, blustery wind, snowfall, or warm breezes. Which one do you prefer?”
Daniel looked a little taken aback by Emily’s somewhat snappy tone. Chantelle, too, seemed confused.
“I don’t know,” Daniel stammered. “There are pros and cons to all of them.”
Emily felt her emotions swirling inside of her. Was Jayne right? Had Daniel proposed without even thinking about the fact that there was supposed to be a wedding at the end of it?
“Have you told anyone?” Emily probed further.
Creases of frustration appeared across Daniel’s forehead. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours,” he stated plainly, hiding the irritation Emily knew she’d stoked in him. Between his teeth he added, “Can’t we just enjoy the moment?”
Chantelle looked from Emily to Daniel with concern in her eyes. It wasn’t often they bickered and the sight clearly alarmed her.
Seeing the little girl looking worried struck a chord inside Emily. Whatever concerns she herself may have, it wasn’t fair to let Chantelle get caught up in them. This matter was for her and Daniel to resolve.
“You’re right,” Emily said, exhaling.
She reached out for Chantelle and took her hand for reassurance. Just then, Joe arrived with stacks of pancakes. Everyone began to eat silently.
Emily felt frustrated with herself for letting Jayne’s and Amy’s words ruin her high. It wasn’t fair. Just yesterday she’d been on cloud nine.
“Will you let Bailey be the flower girl?” Chantelle asked. “And me be a bridesmaid?”
“We don’t know yet,” Emily explained, keeping her emotions in check.
“But I want to walk down the aisle with you,” Chantelle added. “There will be an aisle, won’t there? Are you getting married in a church?” The little girl rummaged in her backpack and pulled out a pink notepad and sparkly pen. “Let’s write a list,” she said.
Despite her underlying anguish, Emily couldn’t help but feel cheered by the sight of Chantelle in organizer mode. She always looked so serious, so grown up and beyond her years.
“The first thing you need to arrange is the venue,” Chantelle said in a very efficient voice that made Emily picture her running the inn one day.
“You’re right,” Emily said, looking at Daniel. “Let’s think about the venue first then work from there.” She felt determined not to let her high be ruined. “Let’s not rush any decisions. “
For the first time since she’d pestered him for answers, Daniel seemed to relax. The frown lines on his forehead disappeared. Emily felt relieved.
Out the window of the diner, Emily could see that a tree was being raised in the center of town. In all the excitement she’d completely forgotten about the town Christmas tree; it was raised the day after Thanksgiving every year. She’d gone to watch it as a child whenever the family had been in Sunset Harbor for a winter vacation. She recalled that there was also an annual tree lighting that took place in the evening.
“We should go and see the tree being lit tonight,” Emily said.
Chantelle looked up from her notepad, which was now filled with a long bullet point list written in her scrawling handwriting. “Can we?” She looked excited.
“Of course,” Emily said. “But first we should get our own tree. If the town has one, the inn ought to have one as well. What do you think about that, Chantelle?”
Emily felt her own excitement grow as she realized that the inn would accommodate an enormous Christmas tree. As a child their father had only ever gotten a small one for the living room, since they were only ever vacationing in the house. But now that it was her home she could put an enormous ten-foot tree in the foyer. Maybe even fifteen-foot! She and Chantelle could decorate it together, using a stepladder to reach the top branches. The thought filled her with childish anticipation.
“Can we, Daddy?” Chantelle asked Daniel, who was sitting rather quietly as he munched on his pancakes. “Can we get a Christmas tree?”
Daniel nodded. “Sure.”
“And then go to the tree lighting in town?”
“Uh-huh.”
Emily frowned, wondering what Daniel was thinking, why the thought of such a delightful family outing wasn’t filling him with joy like it did her and Chantelle. Daniel was as much a mystery to her as ever, even though she now had a ring on her finger and was more than ready to commit to him forever. She wondered if she’d ever really know what was going on in his head, or if even, when she became Mrs. Daniel Morey, she’d still be left wondering.
CHAPTER THREE
Dory’s Christmas Tree Farm was a short drive away on the outskirts of Sunset Harbor. The family drove together in Daniel’s rusty red pickup truck. There were still patches of Thanksgiving Day’s snow on the banks, and as they drove past Emily touched the ring on her finger, remembering the snow that had fallen around her as Daniel proposed.
They pulled up into the makeshift parking lot and all hopped out of the truck. There were many families here; clearly everyone had the same idea. Parents milled around while their children ran excitedly about the place, threading through the lines of trees.
Instead of Dory, it was a young girl on the cusp of teenagehood who greeted them. She introduced herself as Grace, Dory’s daughter, and she had the same wispy blond hair as Chantelle. She was wearing a fanny pack stuffed with dollar bills and a paper pad to write receipts.
“These are the trees ready for harvest,” she said, smiling confidently, gesturing out to the field of pines. “They’ve all been growing for about seven to nine years.” She grinned down at Chantelle. “So they’re about your age, am I right?”
Chantelle nodded shyly.
“Once you find the tree you like,” Grace continued, “cut it down and take it to the loading area. My dad will ride you and the tree back in the wagon to the baler, wrap it all up, and then you can pay me. We also sell hot chocolate and toasted chestnuts if you want something to keep you warm while you walk.”
Emily bought them each a hot chocolate in a Styrofoam cup and a bag of chestnuts to share, and then they headed for the fields. Chantelle rushed ahead, more excited than Emily had ever seen her.