Bad Hair Day 7 - Dead Roots (22 page)

“I’m glad I got to meet your family this weekend, despite the events that transpired. You’ll get your chance to meet mine soon enough,” he said, chuckling, while Marla considered an appropriate response.

“About the holidays,” she began, but he cut her off.

“I’ve decided it’s time to let go of certain things.” He kicked at a seashell. “Like ghosts of the past. If I’ve learned nothing else from being here, it’s that people’s spirits deserve their rest. It hurts them for us to keep them here, and it doesn’t do us any good, either.”

He drew a deep breath and spurted out his next words. “So I propose that we look for a new house when we return home.”

Stunned, Marla stared at him. “Are you sure?”

“I know you hate being in the same house that Pam and I shared. Brie can still keep what she wants from her mother’s collections. Meanwhile, we can work out what we’ll each contribute to our new home. You might even want to add some of Andrew’s furniture.” He stroked her chin. “Your mother made this suggestion to me a while back, but it’s taken me this long to realize she’s right. Could you accept me on these terms?”

Too choked with emotion to speak, Marla nodded. She never thought she’d get him to budge from the house he’d lived in with his late wife, but the fact that he could finally move on meant he was ready to let Pam go. Afraid her bubble might burst, she bit her lip and kept silent.

“There’s one more thing,” he said, taking a velvet box from his pocket. “I thought of hiding this inside a conch shell, but you’ve had enough treasure hunts for one trip. Open it.”

Marla trembled as she raised the lid and spied the diamond solitaire nestled inside. “Oh, Dalton.”

“Now it’s official.” His lips curved upward as he took the ring and slipped it on the third finger of her left hand.

It might have been Marla’s imagination, but she thought she heard muffled cheers and applause wafting from the direction of the old sugar mill.