“That’s one,” he says, “only a million more to go.”

“Not a million,” I mumble, “just two more dozen.” I climb up another step and toss another cord, and he stops it also. When I had this idea, it played out a lot better in my head. How hard could it be, I thought to myself, and now that I’m five minutes in, I should have gone with rose petals in the middle of the living room.

Except I didn’t wait all this time to propose to her and have it be mediocre. No, my girl deserves the best. I just hope I can do it in one piece. I move the ladder over slowly, ever so fucking slowly. When I finally step back down on the ground and walk over to the switch, I look over at Ethan. “Do they not work?” he asks.

“I don’t know. Let me flip the switch,” I say, and when I do, the lights illuminate. The light bulbs hanging on their power cord hang from the branches of the trees.

“It’s cool, Dad,” he says, and I look at it.

“It is, but it’s not done,” I say and grab the white sheet of lace I have and place it over two branches and let it hang. “Just a few more touches.”

“I’m going to go sit on the rock,” he says, grabbing my phone and going over to sit on the rock that I brought here all those years ago for Kallie. The same rock that not so long ago she wanted off her property. The same rock where I told her I loved her for the first time. I place the other two pieces of lace around the tree with the seven white lanterns on them. I take the battery-operated candles from the bag and turn on the switch on the bottom, and the tips light up.

“Okay, kiddo,” I say, looking over my shoulder at him. “How does it look?”

“She’ll like it,” he says. It’s been over six months, and Kallie has made our house a home. She is on top of everything that has to do with Ethan, she has taken him into her heart, and it’s just flourished. He didn’t just get Kallie. He got Charlotte and Billy, who treat him as if he’s theirs, and I guess in a little way he is a part of all of us.

“Okay, let’s get home before she suspects something,” I say and walk back to the truck.

“She’s going to know right away,” Ethan says. “She smells trouble, and she also smells when you’re fibbing.” I look over at him and know that he’s tried to get one over on her many times, but she has a way of knowing.