June First

by Jennifer Hartmann

“It’s so beautiful. We had so many rainbows in New York when we were apart but none since you’ve been here with me, and I’ve been wishing for one so badly, ever since winter faded, and—” She spins around to face me. But I’m already on one knee. June’s words fall off, her lips frozen into an O shape. Her hand flies up to grip her chest, right over her heart. “Brant…?” “June Adeline Bailey.” I gaze up at her wide, glistening eyes as I dig the ring box out of my front pocket. I bought it in March and have been carrying it with me every single day, waiting for a rainbow. “Junebug.” “Brant,” she repeats, choking on my name. “Twenty-two years ago, I tossed a toy elephant into your crib, trying to give you comfort in the only way I could. And I knew in that moment as you gazed at me through the crib slats with your big blue eyes… I knew you were destined to become my comfort.” Emotion sweeps through me, stealing my words for a moment. I swallow. “That’s exactly what you became. You were the laughter on the other side of my tears, the solace to quell my nightmares, and the rainbow after every storm. You saved my life, June Bailey.”