Bitty set the pie in the oven, made sure the timer was set and then continued telling his long-winded story to Jack, who was sitting at the kitchen table, avidly listening with his chin resting on his arms folded on the table.
Bitty turned to the sink as he spoke and began to do the dishes, “-and then there was this whole to do about the store-bought jam at the bake sale and Moo Maw said to Mrs. Jameson, who lives one street over, that she can take her store-bought jam and shove it up her-”
“I think we should get married.”
The pot Bitty had been holding fell into the sink and caused a wave of soapy water to splash onto Bitty’s front, and Bitty staggered to the side, clutching his heart and holding the counter for support. When he finally found his voice again he scolded, “Jack Zimmermann are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”
But Jack had that look on his face, the one he has when he’s lining up the puck, or the one he has after he’s just got back from a 10 mile run, the one he had before he kissed Bitty for the first time.
“We’re practically married already anyway. I think we should make it official.” Jack said, still not taking his eyes off Bitty.
Bitty spluttered for something to say, “Jack - we’ve - we’re - I don’t think - We’ve only been dating for two years. You’ve only been out for 6 months!”
“So? Timing couldn’t be better.” Jack said, a small smirk forming on his face.
BItty sinks into a chair across from Jack. “Jack I swear if this is some sort of joke, I don’t get it.”“I’m not joking. And this isn’t a proposal by the way. But that’s coming.” Jack nodded.
“Jack!” Bitty squawked, “I haven’t even graduated yet!?”
Jack got up from the table and pressed a small kiss onto Bitty’s temple, then walked to the door of the kitchen. “Fiancé has a nice ring to it eh?” Jack said with a smirk over his shoulder.
He didn’t see, but rather heard, Bitty’s muffled squeak as he headed up the stairs with a blinding smile on his face.
Back in the kitchen, Bitty’s face was buried in his hands, but he was grinning ear to ear. “This boy.” He muttered.