The Warmest Winter✓

Twenty-three

Absolutely shocked is the look on Sam's face. Her lips part hesitantly, as though she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. I believe she's finally grasped the situation—I can clearly see it from the way she stares at me, hoping for some kind of explanation or something.

"Sam, listen." I take a deep breath. We've stepped outside for a while so it's just the two of us. "When we were ten, you wanted a big Barbie doll with a pink Cinderella dress; the type we couldn't afford even after saving our little coins for three months."

I smile nostalgically when I mentally revisit the large shop in San Francisco in which a pink dressed doll was awesomely displayed. We'd always pass through it on our way to school.

"I remember," Sam whispers. Using the back of her hand, she wipes the dampness in her eyes. "We raised only a half of the amount by taking care of Mrs. Wong's bulldog."

We laugh slightly, for the dog had a scary face and Sam disliked it plainly.

"In the end we couldn't buy the doll," I tell her as we sit down on the white bench, facing a small garden of green grass. "And then, during your sweet sixteen you wanted to have a party in the yacht." Now we laugh loudly, the memory too funny and fond. "Still we had no means to make it happen, so we had to postpone it."

"Where are you heading at, you crazy bitch?" Sam can no longer hold her tears, and I'm not doing well myself as I chuckle softly. "What are—"

"And as we turned into big ladies we are today, you always had this one crazy dream," I say stoutly, interrupting her question. "Do you know what I'm talking about?" I stare at her deeply in the eyes, and a soft nod is her immediate response.

"To get married in Las Vegas?" she says in a low voice, emotions apparently overwhelming.

"Yes, Sam. A crazy wedding without preparations." I chuckle again. An easy silence envelopes us, eyes fixed tenderly at one another. "But this time I can afford making your dream come true, Samantha. Everyone's agreed to make it happen—including Jonathan, who's the main proprietor of this shenanigan."

"I knew it. But I still can't believe you've all tricked me," Sam breathes, looking flustered as she smirks.

But she's not mad, thankfully.

"Look, Sam." I sit straight, taking her hands in mine. She gazes softly at me. "You won't do anything you don't want to do. This craziness we've pulled today . . . can all stop if you say so. I told you that the choice is utterly yours, and I mean it. No one will obligate you into accepting this wedding."

In the end it's her happiness that counts. I know perfectly well that she's nuts in love with Jonathan, but having a baby with him and getting married to him are two different things.

"Well, I—" Her lips tremble, and she fails to give out a definitive answer.

"If you are not ready, we're calling it off," I say matter-of-factly as I notice hesitation filled in her eyes. "It's what Jonathan said, too, and he's willing to wait until you're ready."

"Ah, fuck." Sam huffs incredulously. She delicately wipes off her tears and says, "I just wonder who's crazier between us." A smile crosses her lips.

"Um . . . me?" I utter, hardly concealing my smile.

"Yes, you. But you know what? Let's do it." Sam decides after a long sigh, a bright smile curving her pink lips.

"Seriously, Sam?" I get up right away. Sam nods up at me. "Are you certainly sure?" I'm awed.

"More than I've ever been before. I love him. And like you said, this is my dream!" Sam's enthusiasm seems to be back, her cheeks redeeming their color. "I'm going to marry him!" she adds.