Fiona smoothed down the front of her dress and adjusted the belt, undoing the notch and then redoing it again in the exact same fashion. She drew a hand through her hair, carefully arranging the curls so that they fell perfectly around her shoulders, fussing with the ones that seemed out of place. "Imo - "
"I swear to God, Fi, if you ask me one more time if you're wearing the right earrings to go with your outfit I will just call my father and cancel this dinner!" Imogen stood in the doorway of their bedroom, already dressed and ready go - as she had been for the past half an hour. Fiona was dragging her feet, something that wasn't exactly unusual when it came to Imogen's father.
Fiona whined a little and then unzipped her skirt, letting it pool on the floor. "Just let me try on one more outfit, okay?"
"Not okay, Fiona! We're already late, so just put your skirt back on and let's go!" Imogen normally had endless amounts of patience when it came to her girlfriend, but there was just something off about the way she was acting tonight. When Fiona looked at her sheepishly, Imogen rolled her eyes, dropped her purse on their bed, and took a step towards her. "Are you going to make me get you into that skirt?
"Aren't you supposed to be the one getting me out of it?" Fiona shot back, although she was already shimmying back into it. "Fine. Are you happy now? Let's go."
Imogen smiled cheerfully at her, any trace of irritation gone from her face entirely. "Very. Now let's go! You know Daddy gets confused when we keep him waiting for too long." She grabbed her purse off of the bed and exited the bedroom, humming under her breath. Fiona waited until she heard the sound of the door closing, indicating that Imogen was going to catch the elevator for them, and then she dove for the closet she had just been standing in front of.
Dropping to her knees (not an easy feat in the heels and tight black skirt she was currently sporting), she dug through the shoeboxes and bags that littered the bottom of their shared closet until she came upon a battered looking box that seemed out of place compared to everything else in there. She glanced over her shoulder, although she hadn't heard the door open again, and then pried the lid off. Pulling out an old, blue scarf - seven years old, in fact - she carefully unraveled it and let a small black box drop into her hand.
She sat back and regarded it for a few seconds before popping it open and staring at the diamond ring that lay nestled inside. She had been holding onto it for months now, just waiting for the right time to ask Imogen if she wanted to marry her, but she could never seem to find that moment. She knew that Imogen's father was the most important person to her (Fiona knew that Imogen considered her to be more important, but she knew her girlfriend better than she knew herself sometimes) and she wanted to make sure that he was all right with it. Especially since he had been getting more and more confused as of late, and Imogen had been dealing with the kind of decisions that a twenty-four year old shouldn't have to make so soon about their parent.
When Fiona looked back at her (first) senior year of high school, she would never have thought in a million years that the girl with the double buns, overalls, and affinity for stalking Eli would end up being the girl that she would one day, seven years down the line, be browsing a jewelry store in order to purchase an engagement ring for.
It hadn't been easy to sneak around and get the ring without Imogen getting suspicious, and it involved a lot of Fiona having to lie and say that she was working late or she was visiting Holly J, but somehow she managed to pull it off and hide it in the back of their closet. She checked it every single spare minute she had to make sure Imogen hadn't found it, and after rehearsing her speech dozens of times, it was finally time to ask her the most important question of her life.
"Fions?"
Fiona jumped back in surprise and tried to catch herself by windmilling her arms. She failed miserably and landed flat on her back, still holding tightly onto the ring. There was a noise by the door as Imogen tried to suppress a laugh and come in to make sure she was okay at the same time. "Are you alright? I didn't mean to scare you! You were just taking a long time."
"I was just going to the bathroom!" Fiona said defensively, standing up and discreetly tucking the box inside her purse.
Imogen raised an eyebrow. "You were going to the bathroom in our bedroom?"
Fiona stood up straighter, shoulders set, and stalked past Imogen. "I am not answering any more questions. Let's go."
Imogen sighed and followed her out, flicking the lights off behind them and leaving their apartment in darkness.
—
"Mr. Moreno, can I ask you a question?"
Imogen had taken her aging bloodhound, Volta, out on a short walk, and left her father and Fiona alone back at the house. (She claimed that it was because it was stupid for both she and Fiona to walk the dog, but Fiona knew it was because she didn't want her father to be alone any more than was necessary.)
Imogen's father stopped collecting the plates that were on the dining room table, raising his gaze to meet Fiona's. She was on the other side, holding the giant platter that had held the turkey they had eaten for dinner. She sighed, and then placed it back on the table. "Mr. Moreno, you know I love your daughter more than anything, right?"
He nodded, moving to the kitchen to put the plates in the dishwasher, and Fiona followed, leaning against the counter. "She makes me so, so happy, sir, and I just - I can't imagine not having her in my life, you know? And I just want to give her everything and make her smile and be with her until I the day that I die. So I guess what I'm asking is if you'll give me your blessing to ask Imogen to marry me?"
Mr. Moreno kept putting the dishes in the dishwasher, not even acknowledging that he had heard a word of what Fiona had said. She waited a minute or two longer before giving up, figuring that he was having a spacey day, and turned to go and get the rest of the things off the table.
"When I met Imogen's mother, we were only fifteen years old."
His voice made her freeze in her tracks, and she smiled to herself, knowing that this had to be going somewhere good. Slowly, she got herself under control and turned back, watching as he polished his glasses on his shirt.
"I knew from the minute I saw her that I was going to marry that girl. I didn't actually tell her that until we were twenty, but I just knew. When we did get married, I vowed to love her forever, through good times and bad times. You gonna do that for Immy?"
"Of course." Fiona's response was automatic; she didn't even have to think about it.
"And you can honestly tell me that you know, deep down, that she's the one for you."
Fiona's hand reached up to touch her necklace, a smile playing on her lips. "Sir, I can tell you that it's the one thing I'm a hundred percent sure of."
Mr. Moreno studied her for a minute longer and then cracked the first smile he had all night. "Well, then, I guess you have a pretty big question to ask my little girl, don't you?"
Just then, the front door opened and Imogen's voice rang through the house. "Dad? Fions? I'm back! You'll never guess what Volta did again. She saw a squirrel and literally ripped the leash out of my hands and I had to run down the street in my heels and my dress. I think I might have accidentally flashed the neighbors my undies." She rounded the corner, Volta's leash in her hands, and glanced between the two of them. "Did I miss anything?"
Something about Imogen's windswept hair, and her ridiculously bright orange parka that she insisted on wearing in the winter months despite being an adult with a job and that she wasn't a kid anymore, and the fact that she was gazing at her like she was the only thing in the room that mattered jolted something inside Fiona.
She could imagine this perfectly. She could see walking down the aisle to Imogen and saying her vows and watching as her parents tried not to cry and watching as Holly J definitely cried. She could see buying their first real house, having children, fighting over little things, going on family vacations, attending their children's graduations, growing old together, seeing their grandkids, holding hands in the nursing home. She could see all of it, and she could only ever see it with Imogen.
She glanced at Imogen's dad, who was busying himself and looking anywhere but at them, and she took it as a sign. "Hey, Immy? Want to come take a stroll with me?" She held her hand out, and although Imogen looked apprehensive about leaving her father alone, she took it.
Fiona stopped to pick up her purse and her coat, and then led Imogen outside the house and into the backyard, where Imogen's old swing set still stood. It was rickety and rusty, but Fiona still brushed off the seats and tentatively sat. When she was sure that it could hold their weight, she pointed to the one next to her. "Sit." Imogen obeyed, looking at Fiona curiously.
She waited until Imogen finally got bored and began to look around the yard, and she covertly slipped the ring into her jacket pocket. "I like it out here," she started.
"Yeah. I remember when my mom and dad helped put this thing together." Imogen reached out a hand and trailed it down one of the rusting poles, leaning her head against the chain of the swing. "My mom was so upset because my dad refused to read the instructions and wanted to do it all on his own. She kept saying, "Louis, you're going to kill the kid!" But my dad insisted that if he could consult for unique urban scaping projects, then he could build a little swing set."
Fiona just watched as Imogen relayed the story, wanting to hear it. Imogen never really talked about her mother, who had passed away when Imogen was in middle school. Her father had gotten more and more absentminded after that, so it was no wonder Imogen had turned out as quirky as she had.
"I hope we can do that for our kids someday," she said carefully, trying to gauge Imogen's reaction.
Imogen turned to look at her, her eyebrows dipping slightly. She didn't look upset or averse to the idea, just a little confused as to why Fiona was bringing it up when they never had before. "I suppose so. Why - "
Fiona put her hand in her pocket and drew out the little black velvet box, effectively ending Imogen's question. The other girl's eyes went wide, and she clapped both hands over her mouth to end the squeal that was threatening to burst out. Fiona licked her lips; nerves already getting the best of her despite the fact that Imogen was nodding yes before she said anything.
"Imogen, when we first met I never dreamed that I'd fall for you, let alone end up still dating you seven years later. I know it sounds horribly cheesy, but you really are the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I love you so much, and I want you to know that for the rest of our lives. And, um, I had this whole speech planned out, but I sort of forgot it all, so can I just end it with I love you?"
Imogen nodded again, then, in a flurry of movement, tackled Fiona right off her swing and sent them both to the ground. Fiona landed on her back for the second time that day, and Imogen landed on top of her. The ring box skittered away from them a bit, but neither noticed because Imogen was too busy cupping her newly minted fiancée's face and kissing her deeply. Fiona's hands found their way to Imogen's waist, and they kissed heatedly for several long minutes, their bulky coats preventing them from doing much else.
"Oh!" Imogen gasped against Fiona's lips, before rolling off of her. "Where's the ring?"
Fiona sat up and scanned the grass, flopping onto her stomach to reach the box and give it to Imogen. "Attractive," Imogen noted, before opening the box. "Oh. Oh my God. Fiona! Fiona, how did you even afford this? It's the size of - of - I don't even know what it's the size of, but Fiona, it's huge!"
She shrugged her shoulders, plucking it out from the plush interior of the container. "Only the best for you, Immy. Here." Fiona lifted Imogen's hand to slide the ring onto her finger, satisfied when she saw that it fit perfectly. Imogen couldn't take her eyes off of it, in awe of the fact that Fiona knew her so well that she got exactly the kind of ring that she had always dreamed of.
"Can we play - "
"Don't say it."
" - Miss New Booty at the wedding?"
"I'll think about it."