Amish Jedi: In a City Far, Far Away

Episode 14.2 ~ Mr. Darcy

He huffs a laugh and gazes back down at the covers. "Thank you." 

Once Jason's done with birthday presents, the mayhem ensues. Megs tosses packages at people like she's tossing bread to a hungry mob. Shiny paper is ripped and discarded on the floor until Megs's area rug can no longer be seen. 

"You got me a bike?" John asks, shocked when Megs barks at him to come get it because she can't lift it over everyone. 

"I thought it would help you get around town faster." His expression shifts, the last crusts of his bitter mood falling off as if they were never there. 

I smile and continue to open my presents—an Ariel Christmas bulb with my name on it for the tree from Megs, an oxygen mask with a gift card to Tea and Tales from Teddy who chuckles, body splash from Betty, a Force Awakens t-shirt from Frank, my own Tea and Tales mug from Leah with my order already written on it, and then there are two packages left. One is large and silver, the other is small, rectangular and red. 

"Open the red one last," John says, wrapping his arm around me. 

"It's fine," Jason says, "the silver one is just from me and Megs. Open the red one." 

I glance at John and he shrugs, picking the red gift up and handing it to me. "I hope you like it."

From the feel, I assume it is a picture frame. Perhaps a photo of us, though I don't remember taking a picture together. Maybe one of Gramps and us when we were little. There was that time with the wind-up camera he let us play with, could Gramps have gotten the film developed? My heart flutters at the thought of seeing my grandfather again. 

"Well?" John says a bit impatiently, but light-hearted. 

"Sorry," my cheeks warm, "just trying to guess what it is..." 

"Open it and find out. The suspense is killing me."

I tear the paper off, the back of the frame staring up at me. Taking a deep breath to prepare myself for Gramps, I flip the frame over. At first, lukewarm disappointment washes over me. And then I realize what I'm looking at. 

Red velvet lines the interior of the white frame. I can tell by the style that John handmade it. Wedged into the red velvet like in a jewelry box is my gold, diamond engagement ring with a tag tied to it. On the tag John scrawled, I'm yours, will you be mine? 

I forget how to breathe as I look up into John's eyes. Somewhere in the back of my head a clock ticks, growing louder. He's proposing. My time is up, and I haven't figured out who he is or whose I am. But as our eyes swim into each other I see there my John, like Bella looking at her Jacob. My heart swells with warmth. 

If the closest Bella ever got to Edward was as a school lab partner. If she never let herself fall for him. And if she'd fallen for Jacob and he'd offered her himself for all eternity, she would have taken him. 

"Zia?" John asks, a little uneasy. 

I stare at him knowing this is the last time he will ever ask me this question, and all I can think is I can't lose him. Not him. "Yes," I breathe. 

"Yes, you'll marry me?"

I exhale a smile. "I will." 

Before I know what's happening, he pulls our faces together and the rest of the world disappears.

***

After an exciting night filled with joyous calls home, congratulations even from Betty, and Megs a dither of planning and gown fabrics, I wake on Christmas morning a bit later than my usual hour. My stomach growling, I get up and trudge through the layer of gift wrap to the kitchen. My body programed to go to the fridge for the milk, it is not until I turn for the stove that I notice a large, silver package waiting for me beside a steaming mug full of cocoa — in my new mug from Leah. A note is taped to the gift.

To: Princess Ariel

From: Mr. Darcy

I smile, I'm not sure why. Maybe because I feel like Jason has forgiven me—forgiven me for saying "yes" when I told him to say "no." And, if I'm being honest, I'm relieved.

I take a sip of the cocoa. It is still very warm. I wonder if he dropped it off.... 

Setting the mug down, I quietly pull open the paper, not wanting to wake Megs. Inside the box is a bed set — quilt, sheets, pillow cases, shams. But they are not the store-bought kind. I pull out the quilt and unfold it. 

"Woah," I whisper as I take in the Harry Potter and Star Wars collage of fabric that is a complete mess but in a beautiful and artsy way. The shams match, except they say "PotterWars" across them. The sheets are Hufflepuff yellow. 

My knees weak with the weight of joy that can only come from the deepest kind of love, I fall into an open chair hugging the quilt to my face. 

Suddenly I know what I need to do. I need to talk to Jason.