Tom drove the rest of the way back to the city. At least, he tried to. It was him who was behind the wheel when the back tire began to rattle and bang, flat. Relieved to no longer be driving on the edge of a cliff, he pulled to a stop on the side of the road, and reached across Emma, into the glove box for the key to the wheels.

"We're still not in the city. Who do we call to come all the way out here for us?" she said, her hand over he throat.

He smirked. "We don't call anyone. We put the spare on ourselves. I mean, I do it myself. But it's not safe for you to wait inside the car. Come stand outside, well out of traffic."

She squatted beside him, her hands full of shiny lug nuts, keeping them safe as he worked. "This is the most dad-like thing you've done all day," she said. "You tended to me when I was sick, made sure I ate, read me the weather forecast, and now this."

He glanced over his shoulder, grinning before turning to take one of the nuts back from her, about to wrench it into place on the wheel.

"It's almost like," she began, "like it's a sign. Isn't it? Like the universe is showing me what you're capable of, that I can trust myself to you."

"Trust, she says, after I've made her sick and stood her next to speeding traffic," he scoffed.

"Are you trying to convince me, or not?" she laughed.

He took the last nut from her hand, tapping it against the oversized silver ring still on her middle finger. "I am. But I don't care what the whole universe thinks of the question of the day. Only the part of the universe that's you."

"Well, signs like this just might be helping me decide. So be glad for them."

When he glanced at her again, she wasn't looking at him, but typing furiously at her phone.

"What're you up to now? Not making a social media post we'll be hounded about for the next ten years, are you?" he said as he stood up, leaning in to her to see her message.

"No, it's just my assistant," she answered, shutting off the screen, the lightness of her voice oddly strained.

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing in LA this week, Em? Every time I ask, you manage to change the subject."

She blinked sweetly. "I'm sure I don't," was all she said.

Most of rush hour had cleared away by the time they were on the freeway. Emma risked unclasping her seatbelt and moving close enough to rest her head on his shoulder. Tom tipped his head to rest his cheek on her hair for half a moment. "Aren't you darling? But this new dad-thing you've awakened in me today can't bear to see you with your seat belt off at 75 miles an hour."

She scoffed. "What's that in real speed?"

"About 120 kilometres an hour."

She hissed. "Oo, that is fast." With a sigh, she receded back into her seat, clicking her safety belt back in place. "I'm being foolish. This day is ending so soon. And even though it hasn't been perfect, I wish it would go on and on all the same." She laughed at herself. "See, I'm ridiculous."

Tom tried to smile along. If the day was ending, and it was making her melancholy, then that meant...

He rolled his lips into a tight line, shifted in his seat. Someone who was about to accept an unexpected proposal couldn't be sad, could they? That kind of feeling would only come if they were approaching the end of something more than just a visit. Like, if they were approaching the end of - of them.

He felt hot, pressed, mad and desperate. He reached out, grabbing at her hand and kissing it firmly as he drove. "You're not ridiculous. And you're not a fool. You don't have to trust me if you don't want to. Trust yourself."


The sun was setting as the arrived at his house. The dog had been cooped up most of the day and was frantic to get outside. Emma went into the backyard with her while Tom went to the kitchen to fix Emma something quick and light to eat before her assistant arrived to take her to the airport. There wasn't much time left for her to give him her answer. If she didn't offer it freely, he'd have to ask her again, and probably drop dead at her feet from the anxiety of it.

He was slicing cucumber for her salad when he heard Emma yelp in the yard. There was no barking so it couldn't be that bad, but Tom rushed outside anyway. He found her on her hands and knees, peering through a crack between the boards of the deck.

"Tom, I've lost it," she said. "Your ring. I tossed the dog's ball and the ring went flying off with it and rolled down this crack."

He knelt beside her, looking into the dark space below the deck. When he closed one eye, he could see something small in the dirt below reflecting a very little light back at him. "There it is. Wow, it's well down there. Don't worry about it. I did like that ring, but it's not fancy."

Emma sat back on her heels, her eyes shining, "We need to get it back for you. Bring me something to take this board off and I'll get it back for you."

"What, like a crow bar? You're going to demolish my house over this?"

Her voice was high and trembling. "We can't leave it there."

He held her by each of her arms. "Em, we don't have time for a construction project tonight. And it's too far down, farther than either of our arms can reach. It's alright. Prying up these boards isn't how I want to spend my last moments with you."

"It's another sign," she said, crying now. "I was careless and I lost it." Her hands were on her face. "I don't want it to be lost, but even so, I can't hang onto it."

He was gathering her in his arms. "Hey," he said, brushing tears from her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. "Hey, it's fine. Forget the stupid cheap ring I bought at a stall on the boardwalk. Forget whatever signs you think you've seen. Forget everything. You can even forget what I asked you at the lookout if you don't like thinking about it. Just be happy. Please, be happy."

She moved her hands to his face, her palms still wet from her own tears. "But I want to be happy with you," she said.

His posture was suddenly rigid. "What are you telling me?"

She sniffed and swiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I'm telling you 'yes,' obviously," she said, frustrated. "All day long I've been telling you 'yes,' and you've been stopping me from answering, ignoring my hints, holding back because you didn't really want to ask me. You just felt like you couldn't give me a baby without asking."

Tom's head was shaking. "Didn't really want - " He interrupted himself, swearing. "Look, stop trying to decode all the twisted motivations someone's taught you men must be hiding. I'm not that complicated, alright? Not when it comes to you. I want to be yours. I want to be your children's as well. If you're willing to say 'yes' then - "

He didn't finish. By now, the dog had brought the ball up onto the deck for them. She was trying to be patient but she'd stuck her face between theirs three times already and they just weren't getting it. Tom clucked his tongue and threw the ball. While the dog scampered away, he stood up with Emma still in his arms and walked back into the house.

He was heading for the sofa in the living room but couldn't see his feet, caught his toes on the edge of the rug, and toppled onto the sofa, landing on Emma, his arms still closed around her.

There was a beat of silence, and then she wasn't crying anymore, but laughing.

"You alright?" he asked, not moving to pull his arms free.

Her arms were closing around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine," she said. "Look at us, Tom. Here we are, crashed at last at the perfectly imperfect ending to this perfectly imperfect day." She pushed his hair back from his forehead, and traced the line between his eyebrows.

"You said 'yes,' is that right?"

Still lying beneath him, she nodded. "Yes. And if you really meant it when you asked me - "

"I definitely did - "

"Then we're stuck." She cocked her head to one side. "We're a family."

He beamed a smile at her before he leaned to touch the end of his nose to hers, speaking low into her face. "But you were saying something about how this family ought to be bigger. Weren't you?"

"I was," she said. "But what time is it? We may need to - " She lost her breath as his mouth fell on her neck. "To wait to expand the family until another time. Though," she said, arching away from the sofa, "it probably wouldn't take too long."

He laughed against her neck. "Give me some credit, Em. I'm a grown man."

"That's not what I meant. Though I am in my mid-thirties now, and you know what they say about us - "

"Do I?"

Her hand was on the back of his neck and she'd pulled him in to kiss him like a thirty-five-year-old nearing the peak of her powers when a loud, theatrical cough sounded at the far end of the room. Breaking apart, they saw the dog, Tom's friend with the code for the door, and Emma's assistant gaping at them.

Tom's friend laughed and clapped his hands as the pair of them sat up on the sofa. "There, now that's finally settled," he said.

Emma's assistant folded her arms across her middle. "Well, this explains all the texts sending me off to buy another first class airline ticket at the last minute. You're heading back with us, are you Tom?"

He looked at Emma, then at the dog, then his friend. There was a loud sigh. "Go ahead, dude, I'll watch the dog until you get back."