“So,” she paused, her breathing was rapid. “Would you say you still… had this crush?”
He blanched as their eyes finally met again.
The words felt caught in his throat.
“Maybe,” he managed to spit out in a stutter. “I really hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable!”
“No, no,” she shook her head, reaching over to grasp his hand in hers. “You should never be ashamed about being attracted to someone. In fact, I’m flattered… and…” a dark red hue flooded her cheeks and she dropped her gaze to her plate, grinning.
“And?” He prodded, his heart racing.
“And I think I’m pretty much crushing on you right now.”
He froze. He knew the grin now plastered on his face probably made him look boyish or stupid, but this was just too good to hear.
“So,” Lynda finally spoke up as she picked up her knife and fork and started cutting her pancakes. Keeping her gaze down and her voice cool—even though the blush in her cheeks wouldn’t go away—she asked, “Are we going to go official?”
“What?” Gideon sputtered, dropping his fork.
“What?” She looked up, a little startled at the way he responded to the question. “I figured, since we’re probably… the last human beings on Earth…”
“We might as well get a head start?” He jumped in.
She shrugged.
That sounded a whole lot less romantic than she had meant it.
For the umpteenth time since waking up, Gideon cleared his throat. He thought over her question. Then, he shrugged as he remarked.
“Honestly, I kind of want to…” he searched for the proper wording.
“Want to what?” She asked—she had to admit, the suspense was killing her.
“Date you first,” he shrugged. “I’m a hopeless romantic. Even though this is the end of the world and we may be the last couple on earth, I don’t want to steal the romance away from you.”
Raising her eyebrows, Lynda nodded. She’d never thought of that part. What a sensitive man she’d been thrust into a bomb shelter with, she mused. But still, this was Nuclear Armageddon. Why waste time?
“Well,” she muttered. “We’re already living together. We even slept together.”
“Purely forced on us,” he chuckled. “We didn’t really have a choice.” He stammered for more reasons, but then it dawned on him what she was getting at.
“Are you saying, you think we already count as being engaged?”
That old familiar twinkle sparked in her eyes as she held his gaze.
There was the loud squawk of a chair being shoved backward then Gideon was on one knee at her side.
Clasping her hands in his, he looked up into her face and asked.
“Lynda Brodunvich, seeing as we are the last human beings on Earth and we are stuck in this bunker for who knows how long and we share the same favourite breakfast foods and favourite colours, will you marry me?”
She giggled as she cupped his face in her hands.
“What happened to taking our time?” She playfully chided. But then, she blushed and asked, “Now just how are we going to get married when we don’t have a minister or a justice of the peace? Don’t we have to get a license?”
“I don’t think so,” he shook his head, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes showing he thought the question humorous.
“How so?” She tilted her head, leaning her face downward to his.
“I believe a man and a woman can get married together, before God, just by giving their vows to each other. That’s the way it was for thousands of years before some Pope came along and declared he owned the power to marry people. The power is in the vows, not a minister or a piece of paper. People don’t need permission to marry each other—that’s all a license is. Governments only require such a thing because it gives them business assets.”
“Strange,” she shrugged. “I’ve never heard such a view. But, even though I don’t understand the ‘business assets’ part, it makes sense.”
“So,” he grinned up into her face, only inches away. “Will you marry me?”
“Why not,” she responded with a giggle before planting a kiss on his mouth. Her lips slid over his as she pulled his face to hers with her hands.
Gideon felt like a sizzling bolt had suddenly struck his entire being. His hands made their way to her waist while he scooted closer on his knees.
She shifted, keeping her lips locked onto his, so she could wrap her legs around his waist.
He pulled her onto his hips and stood.
Gasping in surprise, Lynda pulled her mouth off of his and looked at him.
“You are strong,” she remarked as she tried to catch her breath.
He chuckled, but merely shoved his face to hers again.
Bumping into the kitchen island, they worked their way around it, managing to stumble out into the den and onto one of the sofas.
The days passed, turning into weeks then months.
Gideon was reading a book, enjoying the plot twists, while Lynda cooked supper in the kitchen. He glanced up at the Grandfather clock ticking away the time in the corner. With a slight shake of his head, he moved his gaze up to the wall calendar nearby.
“Sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder. “Can you believe it’s been five months already since we got here?”
“It’s just flying by,” her voice answered back from the other room.
A ruckus of pots and pans clanging followed before she spoke again.
“How much longer do you think we’ll have to stay down here? I’m so ready to see the Sun again.”
“I’m not sure,” he shrugged, even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “But me too. I was thinking the other day, maybe someone put some kind of scanner in the stockroom? Or maybe a communications device?”
“You really think there may be other survivors?” Lynda walked into the den, carrying a large bowl of some kind of batter mix.
“I want to believe so. We couldn’t be the only ones with a ready-made bunker. There were so many people predicting a nuclear war, there had to be someone else who was prepared.”
“That would be nice,” she surmised. Her gaze grew distant as she thought out loud, “I’d love to have some neighbours when we move back to the surface.”
“Me too, Darling,” he smiled.
The next day, Gideon rummaged through some of the crates in the stock room and found a satellite computer. Turning it on, he and Lynda were overjoyed to find it still worked.
“I wonder if there are any satellites still up there,” Lynda remarked. “After seeing all those fireballs in the sky…”
Gideon nodded, his jaw clenched. Studying the screen, he waited. He realised his hands were balled into fists with the anxiety.
Then the screen beeped.
A grin cut across his face as he looked up at Lynda from his chair at the desk.
“There are!”
“How many?” Lynda leaned over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, studying the screen.
“One,” he chuckled. “One single lonely one made it through humanity’s end.”
“Poor satellite,” Lynda frowned. “We get each other, but he’s had to endure the past half a year all by himself.”
Nodding his head, Gideon typed in a few keys.
“I wonder if our new friend can scan the surface and see if it’s habitable, or if there are other bunkers with survivors.”
“We can hope,” Lynda ran her fingers through his hair.
Gideon hit a few buttons with his fingers and read the list of actions on the screen. Finding something that looked related to what he wanted, he tapped it and listened as the computer buzzed.
In seconds, a map of the entire globe lit across the screen. Waves of radar rippled across it as the satellite relayed its scans.
Three shining dots appeared. One was stuck not to far from the Pacific coast of California.