NICK
Six months later
She stood in the kitchen of the Big Wide Open, dipping apples in a pot of warm caramel. She looked prettier that day than she ever had before. But then again, I said that every day. She was like the night sky in a blackout; every time you looked up, you saw something even more gorgeous than the last time you looked.
She wasn’t expecting me home yet. She thought I was still moving furniture at Mr. Bozeman’s new apartment at the retirement village in Flagstaff, where I’d spent the afternoon. While I’d been there, Mr. Bozeman had handed me a clipping from the newspaper. The Karmic Shithammer doubled as a gavel; the Texan had been sentenced to life, no parole. He’d live out his days in a jumpsuit as orange as his damned cheese puffs.
On my way back from Mr. Bozeman’s, I’d made a stop to get a surprise I arranged for Stella. I’d taken a shortcut, driving the pickup that her grandpa had owned and that had come with the ranch. As the new owner of Alvarado Auto, I’d had all the tools I needed to get it working again, and sometimes she and I just drove halfway into the night, holding hands, listening to the radio, with all the windows down.
Now, though, those nights would change, because in my arms I held her gift: a dachshund puppy, seven weeks old. He had that puppy smell, warm and soft. He was a brave little guy, hardly bigger than a big zucchini. Holding him safely against my chest, I hid behind the wall of the ranch and watched Stella a little longer through the sliding glass doors.
She dipped an apple into the caramel, but when she pulled the stick out of the pan, the apple wasn’t there. As usual, she was the first to laugh at herself, and she broke out in that smile, that nose-wrinkling joy that I loved too much. Unfazed, and never, ever angry, she grabbed a fork from the drawer and plunged it into the pan. It came out with an apple drenched in caramel. And then she closed her eyes and took a huge bite, one hand to her forehead, smiling as she chewed.
I crouched down with the puppy and put him on the patio. He wobbled on the warm pavement and got up on two legs to put his paws on my knee. It was one of those moments—me, about to give my new wife a puppy, on our ranch, on a beautiful summer day—that I knew I’d remember forever and ever.
“Time to meet your mom,” I told him, and he gave me a lick on the cheek. Very quietly, I slid open the door just enough for him to get through. From my pocket, I took what might’ve been the world’s smallest dog treat and tossed it into the house. It skittered across the kitchen floor. The puppy took off after it, and one second later I heard Stella squeal, filling the house with the sound of her contagious, delighted happiness. “Oh my God!” she giggled. “What in the world!”
For one second longer, I stayed low. I could hear her feet drumming on the floor. Her laugh filled up the ranch, and she squealed, “Ooh, you are so cuuuuuuuuute!” She really was the most joyful thing on the planet. She was everything I’d never known I needed and everything I could never be without.
I followed the puppy’s lead and headed inside. When she saw me, she ran into my arms, with the puppy still cradled in hers. I pulled her close and kissed her, walking her backward until she was up against the cabinets. As we kissed, the puppy went into kissing overdrive, not sure if he wanted to kiss me or Stella or maybe both of us at once.
“Let’s call him Elvis,” she said through a giggle.
“That’s what I’ve been calling him since I picked him out,” I told her. With my hands on her ass, I hoisted Stella up on the counter, with the puppy wiggling between us. But as I set her down and went in for another kiss, the sound of the local TV news began to fill the kitchen. Between my fingers and her ass, I felt the rubbery buttons of the remote. I’d set her on top of it. I shoved it aside and sank further into the sweetness that was Stella Norton. The dishes clanked in the cabinet behind her, and she hooked her legs around my waist.
But the volume was up high and impossible to tune out. One of the anchors said, “Back to you, Julia.”
“Well this next story, it’s a real gem! Next month, at the Tucson Gem, Mineral, and Fossil Showcase, Arizonans will be treated to a rare showing of one of the largest diamonds on the planet. Weighing in at a whopping five hundred thirteen carats, it is the mate to the recently stolen-and-then-returned North Star. Known as the Southern Star, it is prized for its clarity and its slightly pink tint. Fun fact: it was the inspiration for the Pink Panther! So get yourself down there to catch a glimpse of this beauty, girls. Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to get my hands on that!”
Still midkiss, we both opened our eyes. Hers sparkled, and I felt her smile. I knew what she was thinking, because I was thinking it too. You wanna?
But we shook our heads at the same damned time. In her, I had everything I’d ever wanted already. She was every diamond. She was every star. She was my eternal sure thing.