Chapter 23: Her Mother's Stone

Malcolm's POV

The cemetery stood on a hill above the river, and in March it was still brown.

I knew the way without looking.

In the last life I had walked it every Sunday for six years.

I went past the oak and the angel with the broken wing, to a white stone near the wall.

Lena's stone was not there now.

Lena's mother's was.

CALDWELL, it said. Beloved wife and mother.

Beside it, where the other stone had stood, lay bare grass with no marker.

I stood on it.

The ground was soft and cold under my shoes.

Nothing was buried there.

Nobody was going to be buried there for a very long time.

I could not tell you how long I stood and looked at nothing.

"Mrs. Caldwell," I said, finally.

It felt absurd to speak aloud.

"We haven't met. I'm Malcolm Crowninshield. I know your daughter."

The wind moved the dead grass.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me. I wanted to say it here first. If you have an objection, now is the time."

Nothing happened.

I laughed once at myself, and the sound was small.

"I wrote her a letter in another life and left it on this ground. It said I was late. I'm not late now."

I took the box from my coat.

It was dark blue and a little worn from my pocket.

Inside lay a plain gold band with a small square stone.

I had not bought a diamond.

Lena had already handed one back across a dinner table in front of her family, and I wasn't fool enough to offer her another.

"Mr. Crowninshield."

I turned.

Marshall Caldwell stood on the path in a dark overcoat with a bunch of white tulips in one fist.

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