Two Gifts in One

Her stomach bitched. The dinner! She'd forgotten all about the dinner. The oven would have shut off automatically ... the green beans in the nuker would ... probably be ok ... She rolled out of bed, sparing a glance at the never-lit candles as she fetched out a robe. So much for a night of romance — or at least, not as she had imagined it.

She pedaled out to the kitchen in low gear, sleepily looking around for something to eat. The creaking of the oven as she lifted out the ham brought Alan to join her.

"Here, let me help you with that." He took the heavy thing from her arms and slid it to a smooth landing on the countertop. "Think it's safe to eat?"

"I dunno. What the hell, if one of us gets sick, the other one can drive to the ER."

"Sounds good to me." He rooted around in the utensil drawer for the carving fork.

"So, did you like your present?" he teased.

"Oh, god," she chuckled, somewhat embarrassed. "Yes." She thought of the way Lars made sweet nasty love, the way he smiled at her, the way his cock fit her so perfectly. The fleeting moments waved at her from the ever-widening chasm of memory. It flashed across her mind that she could stand to spend the rest of her life with a lover like that. Oh, well. Maybe once in a lifetime is all a person gets.

Alan found the champagne in the fridge, but Sarah shook her head. "Oh, man. Champagne for breakfast?"

"Why not?" He put it on the table and cautiously wiggled the cork loose. It popped and zinged off the ceiling. Its giddy flight ended abruptly in a corner behind a chair and Sarah struggled to get it while Alan poured them a couple of flutes.

"Got it!" She turned triumphantly to find Alan with a funny look on his face.

"What's the matter? Did the ham make you sick?" She laid the back of her hand to his face in motherly concern.

"No!" He snorted out a half-laugh and rolled his eyes. She looked at him closely. He certainly looked queer.

"Sarah, I want to ask you something."

"Sure, what?" She was puzzled by his odd behavior.

He got on one knee and took both of her hands in his. "Sarah, the reason we should have champagne is because ... I want you to marry me. I want you to be my wife. Will you say yes?"

She gawped, caught completely unawares.

"Don't just stand there with your mouth hanging open. Sarah, will you marry me?"

"Uh-yes. Yes! Oh, Alan, you've made me so happy." Even as she hugged him, she felt guilty. In fact she felt horrible. Twenty-four hours ago there would have been no question. But his gift had jingle-bell rocked her world ... and so had Lars.

But Lars wasn't the one on his knees in front of her. Alan was. She lifted him up and held him more tightly, stretching to hook her chin over his shoulder. "Never let me go."

"I won't," he promised. He pulled back and looked in her face. "I have to confess a certain ulterior motive."

"What's that?"

"I wanted to know for sure that even if you slept with a stud like Lars, I'd still be the one you would want."

"Oh." Her face flamed.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about last night, Sarah. If anything I'm probably the one who should apologize for..."

"For what?"

"For testing you like that. I hope we can just say, fun was fun, and that's the end of it. Okay?" His question was humble and apologetic.

"Of course, honey."

"Great!" Alan looked happy and relieved. He put a glass of champagne in her hand and twined his forearm around hers. "To us!"

"To us!" she agreed.

They enjoyed all the food she had prepared, chuckling over the Christmas Dinner-Breakfast. No further mention was made of the previous night's sexual adventures. When they were stuffed with sugar-glazed ham, Alan offered to clean up.

"That would be so great. I really need to get cleaned up."

"Is it okay if I run water while you shower?"

"Oh, sure, no problem."

Sarah stepped into the hot running stream with a huge sigh. What a Christmas—what a day—what a night! This afternoon, she and Alan would go shopping for rings. And then, very soon, she would at last be a bride.

After the luxury of the soap and hot water, Sarah debated simply combing her hair and letting it dry, as she did when she was alone and had no plans. It made a calming meditation, to slowly comb the strands and feel their texture change. But no, an afternoon at the mall was in front of her. With her fiancé, she told herself. Ha. The satisfaction lacked a certain ring. Now that she had him, she wasn't sure she wanted him. This made her feel all the guiltier.

She fidgeted with the diamond at her neck. Soon her left hand would wear one, also.

Sighing again, she picked up her hair dryer. A note fluttered out from beneath it. Her lips parted in surprise.

She opened the note. It read:

Sarah,

Making love to you last night was something I've wanted to do since we've known each other. Alan is a fool and a scumbag for ever sharing you with anyone else. Please, Sarah, dump him and be mine. I'd never share you with anyone. Give me a chance. I can treat you better than him.

Love and hope,

Lars.

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