Chapter 10 - No Extra Baggage
A year to the day after we first met, I told Clara to dress warmly. I had arranged for a babysitter—a reliable teenager from my crew's family—to watch Lily.
I drove us into town, pulling into the familiar parking lot of the Copper Kettle.
Clara looked at the neon sign, a soft, nostalgic smile gracing her lips. "Our anniversary," she said.
"In a way," I agreed.
We walked inside. Ernie was behind the counter, beaming from ear to ear. He directed us to the exact same booth by the window. The diner smelled the same—roasted coffee and maple syrup. But this time, Clara wasn't crying, and I wasn't sitting alone in the dark.
After Ernie brought us two coffees—strong and emotionally supportive—I reached into my coat pocket.
"Clara," I began, my voice remarkably steady despite the pounding of my heart. "Two years ago, a man sat in this exact spot and called you baggage. It was the dumbest, most short-sighted thing a human being has ever said."
Clara's eyes welled with tears, but she was smiling.
I slid out of the booth and dropped to one knee on the checkered linoleum floor. The diner went dead silent, just like it had that night, but this time, it was a silence of anticipation, of joy.
I opened the velvet box. Inside rested a diamond ring, flanked by two small, deep blue sapphires.
"You are not baggage, Clara. You are my heart. You and Lily are the greatest gifts this world has ever given me. I want to build a life with you. I want to build a future with you. Will you marry me?"
Clara covered her mouth with both hands, a sob escaping her throat. She nodded frantically, unable to speak, and threw her arms around my neck.
The diner erupted in applause. Ernie rang the service bell repeatedly, wiping his eyes with a dish towel.
I slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.
May you like
As I held her there, in the middle of the diner where our broken pieces had first collided, I knew that the silence in my house was gone forever. It had been replaced by laughter, by footsteps, by the beautiful, messy noise of a family.
There was no extra baggage. There was only us, carrying each other, all the way home.
