“Wasn’t there something you were going to ask me?” He rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, Liz, when we’re nineteen, not nine.” “Nineteen is too far away.” I laughed, feeling mischievous. “Ask me now.” “This is so embarrassing,” Hugh groaned, and then, because he knew I wouldn’t let it go, he cleared his throat before asking, “Elizabeth Eleanor Young, would you do me the great honor of becoming Elizabeth Eleanor Biggs?” “Why yes, Hugh Andrew Biggs,” I gushed through fits of laughter. “I would be delighted to.”
