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My face tingles, and goosebumps pop up over my skin. Asked Paps for permission? Is he asking me to marry him when I’m wearing a flannel shirt and jeans?
“Time to open presents!” Granny announces.
Dane gives his mom a weekend at a spa getaway at a new resort in a little town called Kissing Springs. “Oh sweetie, I’ve heard wonderful things about Kissing Springs. It’s the Romance Capital of the South, I hear.” She chuckles, and Dane closes his eyes, trying to shake the thought of his mom dating, even though he wants what makes her happy.
And together, we take Granny and Paps outside to see the new high-efficiency washer/dryer combo we bought them. “You two shouldn’t have spent your money on us. This is too much,” Paps says.
Dane slings his long arm around Paps. “You’ve taught me everything other than basketball. About how to be a man. When I can do more, you and Grans will have whatever you want.”
Granny kisses me and then Dane. “Thank you,” she says, holding back tears over a laundry machine.
Dane says, “There’s one condition.” Granny lifts a crooked brow because gifts aren’t supposed to be conditional. “The clothesline stays. One day, there will be children playing under it, and I want them to have the same experiences Lettie and I had.”
My throat hurts and feels like I’m going to burst into tears. How did I get so lucky to have all of these people in my life? They’re all I need.
Granny whispers, “You don’t have the money for this.”
“I do.”
Mrs. Greathouse has helped me figure out how my finances work with my sponsorships. I know Dane’s dad cares about me because he set up a trust for me. The money I’ve made from jumping and sponsorships goes into a trust, then the trust pays the bills to take care of Diamond Mine’s expenses, Jasper, and the rest goes into a fund for me, and I get a monthly stipend—a percentage of what’s left from my earnings. Two weeks ago, I earned ten thousand dollars for winning an event. And I held a clinic last week with the Stallions equestrian team, earning four thousand dollars, which didn’t go into the trust but straight into my bank account.
As much as I love numbers, I can’t believe I didn’t dive into this earlier. I trusted Gregg Greathouse and this time, he didn’t let me down. He sent Dane a Christmas card, asking for a second chance, but it’s still too fresh for Dane.
When we’re back inside, Mrs. Greathouse hands a small box to Granny and a card to Paps. Granny opens the box. “It’s beautiful.” It’s a necklace engraved with Mothers don’t always give birth to their child.” My tough as nails Granny tears up, and Mrs. Greathouse isn’t prepared for the hug Granny gives her, practically knocking her over. “I should give this to you.”
Paps opens his card, and it’s a membership to the Sportsman’s Club. “Thank you. Hope you like our gift.” He gets up and lifts the heavy present, placing it in front of her.
She rips the bow like a five-year-old kid. She pulls out the first jar. “Beans” Then the second, “Salsa. How spicy? Oh, this looks good.” And the third. “Peaches. Thank you.”
Paps laughs, “There are six of each. Dane says peaches and beans out of the can aren’t as good.”
“Thank you so much. If you wouldn’t mind teaching me how to garden, I would love to start one this year. Dane has always raved about your green beans and after lunch, I know why.”
I hand Dane his gift. He kisses me on the cheek. “Can’t wait for this one.” He slides the homemade bow with three layers of ribbon off the sides. “Did you make the bow?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s beautiful, like you,” he says as he opens the box. He pulls out a black leather jacket. He holds it up, admiring it. “You’re secretly in love with John Travolta, aren’t ya?”
“I am. Except he’s six-foot-six, young, athletic, and my best friend.”
He pulls me into his lap. “Do you want me to wear it all of the time or just on New Year’s Eve?”
“Whenever. Why do clothes go in and out of style? Why does a perfectly gorgeous leather jacket go out of style?”
“Always pondering the great questions of the world. I love that about you. Nothing is too big or small for my Lettie.”
My Lettie. I love hearing those words from his lips.
Mrs. Greathouse says, “My great-grandmother had five dresses in the same style that she wore every day and when she would wear them out, she would sew another one in the same style.”
Dane hands me three gifts in three coordinating wrapping papers and tied with one bow from an expensive boutique right off campus, near The Sugar Shack. He says, “Start with the smallest one.”
It’s the size of a jewelry box. Is it a ring? When I open it, I’m not disappointed. It’s a bracelet that has a horse charm, an Olympic charm, a microphone, a heart, an equal’s sign, and a pair of baby shoes.
“Thank you,” I whimper as I finger each charm. “What’s the equal sign for?”
He uses a hushed tone, “That we’re equal in this relationship. Your sadness is mine. My problems are yours. And since you love math, I thought it was perfect. Open the next one.”
