“One Minnie Mouse pancake for Minnie!”

Valentine tries her best, but it’s obvious that she’s choked up. Lucky for her, Minnie is totally oblivious to everything but one thing.

“Balontine, more whipped cream!” She points her little index finger at the plate and then shoots Valentine an utterly charming grin.

“You know I’ve got it right here.” Valentine adds several large dollops to the pancake and tries to pretend she’s not fighting back tears. “And what about you? Can I put in an order for you?”

“Yes. One final order. Because we’re never coming back here, not ever.” I reach my arm out and pull Valentine close. She drops her arm over my shoulders, and we stand like that for a long minute. “An All-American Breakfast, please, mysterious waitress.”

“Cece?”

Cece smiles from her spot across the table. “Pancakes. You know me. Just a big ol’ stack of pancakes.”

Valentine nods, bends down to give me a kiss and hustles into the back.

It’s Valentine’s last day at the Short Stack, and it’s turning out to be surprisingly emotional. She’s been teary since she woke up this morning—in my bed because she moved across the street to be with me after we realized it was more than a fleeting crush that we had on each other. That was about ninety seconds after we started actually dating.

It’s been an absolutely crazy three months since then. We’ve both been working our asses off to save up money for our next adventure. We just found out last week what that was going to be. Valentine was hired to work in the marketing department of an up-and-coming publisher in the city—a hybrid magazine and book outfit that puts out all kinds of cool shit. I don’t understand half of it, but it’s the perfect job for her. 

It does mean we’ll have to move away from Lakewood, to Syracuse.

I’ve never seen Valentine more torn than when she got the phone call offering her the job. First she jumped up and down, screeching with joy, and then her face crumpled. “But we’ll have to move,” she’d said, her voice muffled against my neck.

“Yeah,” I’d told her, laughing. “It doesn’t matter where we live. The important thing is being together.”

“But I love it here.”

“We can still love it here.”

“We’ll visit, right?”

“I’ll have to get my cinnamon roll fix somehow, and Cece’s are the best.”

“Those were from the grocery store.”

“Either way.”

Now we’re all here for her very last shift... and something else.

I’m trying to keep it cool for Minnie’s sake. For everyone’s sake, really. But it’s proving to be more difficult than I thought.

“Breathe,” Cece intones. “It’s not going to be romantic if you pass out on the floor.”

“I have been in war zones,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes. “You think a little thing like this is going to take me down?”

“You can never tell,” she says primly, and then dissolves into laughter. 

Valentine bustles around the restaurant, filling glasses and putting in other orders. Cece keeps up a regular chatter with Minnie about her pancake, the stingy way they handle the chocolate milk at the Short Stack, and the various people walking by outside the front window.

Meanwhile, all my attention is focused on Valentine.

I’m glad she got the job in Syracuse. It’s going to be fun as hell, and I’m finally going to get the chance to go to school and figure out what I want to do with my life aside from taking her to bed with me every night. But she’s an amazing waitress. This place suits her. Every time she stops at a table, everyone brightens up. 

Finally, I sense in my gut that our order is about to be up. Cece must sense it too, because she gets up, pats my arm, and says, “Go get ‘em,” like I’m about to go finish out a golf tournament or something. She stations herself near the doorway into the back room just as Valentine comes out with our orders. 

Valentine puts Cece’s plate down first, then mine, and then tucks the tray under her arm. Her eyes are shining still, and suddenly I can’t breathe. 

But I do breathe because this is what I want my life to be. An endless series of days, looking at her gorgeous face.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” She’s trying her damnedest to stick to the script, and it’s the most endearing fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

I glance down at my plate and then back up at her face. “Actually...yes.”

Valentine frowns, scanning over the table. “Wait. Are you serious? Did I forget—what did I forget?”

I get out of my seat and take the tray from her. 

“Ryder, I can carry the tray, it’s just that—” Then she looks at my face—really looks at it. 

I put the tray on my chair, and it clatters to the floor. Valentine doesn’t even flinch.

“There’s one thing you can get for me, yeah,” I repeat, and then I get down on one knee.

Sharon has appeared in the doorway, and Cece is standing by with her phone, recording every moment and taking pictures as fast as her thumb can hit the button. All around us, breakfast patrons are catching on. The chatter dies down in an instant, and everyone is holding their breath, straining to hear what I’m going to say.

I should have planned this out in advance.

“Valentine.” I start there. “This is where I first met you. You... sprayed me in the face with whipped cream, and I don’t think you knew it then, but it broke me out of a long, dark, bleak mood that just sucked for everyone involved.”

Valentine’s hand goes to her throat, and a single tear slips down her cheek, but she’s smiling so wide that it could power the whole city. New York City, not Lakewood. It’s a huge smile. 

“Everything before you—well, almost everything—was pretty terrible.” This is the worst proposal speech I’ve ever heard, but it’s straight from the heart and Valentine seems to know it. “But everything after—well, almost everything...” Everyone laughs. “...has been unbelievable and amazing. And I want that with you. I want that with you every day for the rest of our lives.”

I take one last deep breath. “Also, I think it’ll be much easier to sort out all the bills, and all those ridiculous emergency contact forms, and all the paperwork we’ll inevitably have to fill out if—”

“Yes!” Valentine shrieks, jumping down into my arms and throwing her arms around my neck. “Yes, yes, yes,” she says into my ear, and her tears are hot on my skin, and her smile is even bigger than before. “I will marry you.”

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to have my baby,” I say into her ear, and then she’s laughing along with me, and everyone else.

Minnie sits in her high chair, beaming and clapping. She has no idea how good this is going to be.

“Ring,” calls out Cece, and because this place is too damn cute, the rest of the patrons pick up the chant. “Ring! Ring! Ring!”

I help Valentine up off the floor, keeping my arm around her waist, and dig the small velvet box out of my pocket. When I open it, she gasps.

“It’s not a diamond,” I tell her, even though it’s obvious by the garnet stones set into the band that it’s definitely not that kind of engagement ring. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“We were never very traditional,” says Valentine, and lets me slip it onto her finger for her which inevitably leads into a long, public, in-front-of-everyone kiss.

It’s all a perfect fit.