“What does it stand for?” I asked as he laced his finger through mine.
“It stands for all the promises I intend to keep to you. I promise to protect you from any more harm, and I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure you get your ‘someday soon.’”
“How did you find out about someday soon?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Kevin made a comment to my mom and dad about it last week when he was helping them bake cookies in the kitchen.”
“What did he say?” I asked, feeling my heart swell painfully.
“He asked them if this was what someday soon would be like. They were confused at first until he filled them in.”
“Oh,” I said, looking down. “I bet they thought it was ridiculous for a seventeen-year-old to make such promises.”
“Actually, they thought how incredibly brave it was,” he said, lifting my chin to meet his eyes.
He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes, relishing in the sensation of so much love flowing through me.
“How about we get out of here?” he asked against my lips as a librarian wheeled an overflowing book cart down the row near us.
“Sounds good,” I said, gathering up our trash after sliding the elegant ring onto my right hand.
“It’s lovely,” I said, giving him a quick peck on the mouth after admiring it on my hand.
“It suits you,” he said.
Max grabbed the heavy bags with my books from the elderly gentleman and we slipped and slid our way to the SUV on the now slick sidewalk.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this weather,” I complained, blowing on my cold fingers.
“You’ll get used to it, and just wait until summertime is here. We usually stay outside the majority of the day.”
“I can’t wait,” I said, still shivering as Max got back out of the vehicle to scrape the ice from the windshield.
“When does summer start around here?” I joked as he joined me several minutes later, shivering too.
“Not soon enough,” he said laughing as I cranked the heat up even warmer and switched on my seat warmer. “You just lack proper threads,” he teased, looking down at my naked hands.
“Yeah, I know,” I said, looking down at my red wind-chapped fingers.
Max turned on the radio and switched it to a station playing current hits. He sang along with the lyrics while I watched admiringly. “Pretty bad, huh?” he asked, several songs later.
“Well, it’s better than a bullfrog,” I teased.
“Gee, thanks.”
“Kidding,” I giggled. “You sound great, though I do find it insane that you know all the words to every song.”
“It’s a given to know all the words, they play the same songs over and over again. Don’t you listen to music?” he asked.
“Sure, whenever we have a car that has a working radio in it, but it’s usually never current stuff. Lucinda’s a stickler about the music she’ll listen to.”
“Seems like she’s a stickler about a lot of things,” he grumbled under his breath.
“You get used to it,” I said indifferently.
“Yeah, but most parents aren’t like that,” he said testily.
“I know,” I said, wondering why he was trying to pick a fight.