Nightfall

  Chapter Eight

  They went to the beach that afternoon, taking off their shoes and walking barefoot in the foamy waves. It was overcast and the place was practically empty, but as far as Mike was concerned that was only so much the better. Chris was old enough by then to walk along beside them, holding one of Mike’s fingers in his chubby little hand.

  “You know, I’m glad I came here after all,” he declared after a while.

  “Are you? I thought you hated having to work for the government,” she said, glancing at him curiously.

  “Well. . . yeah, I could do without that part. But I’m still glad to be here. After all, what would I do without you?” he asked, and she smiled.

  “I’m sure you’d find another young lady ten times as pretty, that’s what,” she said.

  “I’m not sure that’s even possible. Nah, I just would’ve had to become an old bachelor, that’s all,” he teased.

  “You’re still an old bachelor,” she pointed out.

  “Hey, now, I’m only twenty-three,” he objected.

  “Yup, one foot in the nursing home and the other on a banana peel,” she agreed, and he laughed.

  “Okay, you win. I’m still an old bachelor,” he agreed, and for a little while they kept walking in companionable silence, listening to the sound of the waves and the occasional cry of the gulls. Mike was happy, and all his problems and moral dilemmas at work seemed faint and far away. A sudden upwelling of love washed over him, and he decided impetuously that now was as good a time as any.

  “I don’t really want to be an old bachelor anymore, though,” he finally said, squeezing her hand.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, slowing down. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face her, then dropped to one knee in the salty water.

  “I mean that I love you, Miss Rusk, and I’d be most honored if you’d be my wife,” he said, as formally as he knew how. For a moment she seemed speechless, with her lips slightly parted, and then she laughed.

  “I was beginning to think you’d never ask,” she finally said, and fell to her own knees to kiss him. When an errant wave sprayed them both with sea foam they couldn’t have cared less.

  “Any particular time you’d like?” he asked, when they broke the kiss and had a chance to breathe again.

  “After Christmas, of course, but not too long after,” she said.

  “Hmm. . . what about the twelfth or the nineteenth of January?” he asked.

  “Why especially those days?” she asked.

  “Well, the twelfth is my birthday, and then my mom and dad’s anniversary is on the nineteenth,” he said, and she smiled.

  “I like the thought, but those will both fall on Sunday this year, you know. Kind of an odd day for a wedding, don’t you think?” she asked, and he wasn’t surprised that she’d calculated the date so quickly.

  “I don’t think it’ll matter. It might even make it easier to find something on short notice, if it’s not the usual day,” he pointed out.

  “True. Let’s make it the twelfth, then. I don’t think I can stand to wait any longer,” she said.

  “I want you to have this, too,” he said, slipping off the necklace that held his mother’s silver sixpence and putting it in Annabelle’s palm.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It was my mother’s. My father gave it to her to wear in her shoe on their wedding day, and she asked me to give it to my own wife someday when I got married,” Mike said.

  “That’s so sweet. I love it,” she said, slipping the chain around her neck and kissing him again.

  They scooped up Christopher and went home to change out of their wet clothes, and when Philip and Joan got home later that evening they shared the news with them.

  “We all knew it was only a matter of time. Y’all make a beautiful couple,” Joan said warmly, and then hugged them both.

  “Congratulations; God bless you both,” Philip said, and shook their hands.

  Philip and Joan took them out to eat at a fancy seafood place in honor of the occasion, and Mike’s first impulse was to offer to pay for everything himself. He had to remind himself that sometimes it’s more blessed to allow others the pleasure of giving than it is to keep it always for ourselves.

  “Where do you think you might go for your honeymoon?” Joan asked while they ate.

  “We hadn’t really talked about it yet,” Annabelle admitted, taking a bite of her lobster.

  “We can go anywhere in the world you want to, babe; the sky’s the limit,” Mike said expansively. He was in high spirits and felt generous, and wanted her to have something really special.

  “Anywhere at all?” she asked, sounding bemused. He was about to say yes, when a sudden cloud crossed his mind. True, they might have the money to go anywhere she might like, but considering what he was working on, he wasn’t totally sure they’d be given the permission to go just anywhere they pleased. They almost certainly wouldn’t be allowed to leave the country. After all, that might threaten national security.

  “Well. . . almost anywhere,” he amended, and there was no need for anybody to ask what he meant by the sudden backtrack. They all knew.

  “We can think about it and decide later. There are still several weeks left, and we don’t even have to go right away if we don’t want to,” Annabelle said gracefully, and then the conversation moved on to other things.

  Mike was careful not to let it show, but the incident only served to remind him that however much wealth and comfort he might have, the one thing he didn’t have was freedom. He lived in a golden cage, and try as he might, he couldn’t think of any way to get out of it.