The long creak of the old wooden floorboards accentuated the creepiness of the attic as Arabelle entered the musty room. She hadn’t been up there since, well..since she was a young girl. She was only there now because her parents no longer could be. Gently in sleep, they both passed within a week of each other. She, their one and only offspring, had been forced to manage the funerals. Now, she was forced to clean her childhood home and sell it, because her waiting tips couldn’t cover the rent of the house and her tiny apartment. She paused as a melancholy quiet fell around her and her eyes struggled to adjust. The sudden flicker of light coupled with more creaking caused her to jump. She’d forgotten her boyfriend Jonathan had offered to come along.
“Uh, sorry Ara. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I found the light switch.” Ara dismissed it with a shake of her head. She’d been feeling paranoid all the time now anyways; Jon had a theory that it stemmed from a lack of siblings to carry the grief. The thing was, Ara hadn’t felt an onslaught of grief anyhow. She was sad that her parents were gone, yes, but she had never been particularly close to them after she left for college. They had grown apart during her high school years; conflicting schedules, busying plans, different things to worry about. It was as if her parents and her were more roommates than blood relatives. Besides, she had found out amazing news to tell Jon before her parents passed.  
“Where do you think we should start? There’s so much stuff in here.” There was. Boxes lined the wall, cardboard and wood alike. Her mom had bags of old clothes she had kept up here instead of selling or tossing. Ara recognized an old wooden rocking horse with threadbare string where the mane once laid. Her dad’s old sporting equipment lay in another corner, having not seen a court or field in decades. A delicate yellow chest caught her eye; it was knee high and covered in dainty pink flowers.
“Look at that one,” she said pointing, “I want to know what’s inside. Jon pulled the box farther forward into the light. Ara duly noted in the back of her mind that they were going to need some more light and extension cords; the single fluorescent bulb hanging from the rafters threw a lot of the room in shadows. The yellow chest was designed with a lock but it seemed as if it was long gone. Trimmed in rose gold, the ornate frame was beautiful beyond its rust. Ara felt her breath catch in her throat.
She sat on her knees in front of the chest and Jon joined her. With a little bit of his elbow grease, they worked the top off and let it fall back on it’s hinges. Ara swore as a cloud of dust arose, causing her to sneeze. After waving away years of neglect, she peered over the edge of the chest. Her heart beat jumped a little.
Gingerly, she pulled out a faded baby romper. It had been green at one point with bright white dots; now it hung from Ara’s arm the color of limp grass. The neck was laced with an adorable lace pattern, one that was stained from use. Jon pulled a matching lace sun hat from the chest. Tears swelled in Ara’s eyes as she remembered the news she had to tell Jon. But the dusty attic of her late parents was probably not the ideal setting for receiving such news. She folded the outfit beside her.
Rummaging through the chest, Ara and John discovered more and more items from Ara’s baby days. A bounty of rompers, a cracked rattle, worn down stuffed animals, yellowed pictures, loose hair things...memory road stretched for miles in front of them.
“Look, you were such a cute baby!  You looked like a doll!” Jon exclaimed. The picture in his hand was one of her around the age of one. She had thin blonde curls and bright brown eyes. Her skin was pale like porcelain and coupled with her naturally rosy cheeks, she supposed she did look a little doll-like.
“I know! What happened?” Ara kidded.
“What happened? You grew into the beautiful woman I know and love,” Jon placed a tender kiss on her cheek. Arabelle loved him so much but she was also afraid he might leave her when she told him her news. The multitude of baby pictures with her parents nagged at her mind as she thought of what was ahead in her life. Finally, it became too much for her too handle.
“I...I-I need to step outside. Get some fresh air. A breather,” she took off running and Jon called out after her.
Ara didn’t really have a destination in mind besides out. She let her feet carry her around her parents’ immense land until she stopped at their small gazebo in a back corner of their land. It was small and functional, and quite beautiful when covered by autumn leaves or spring petals. Being pushed back into the trees some, it would almost be unrecognizable if you weren’t looking for it; she hadn’t realized she was. The gazebo, with its dark wood carved in magnificent patterns, was always a favorite spot of hers to read and write and play the guitar she never quite mastered.
Ara took a seat and a breath. Her breath was coming in short gaps. Man, I’m out of shape, she thought. They were soon joined by the long even breaths of her love, the runner.
“Arabelle, what’s going on? You’ve been a little dodgy lately and I know your parents passed last month but I need you to tell me what you need.” Jon was smart enough to have grabbed his jacket before running into the chilly November air. He tossed her sweater towards the gazebo and she caught it from the bench. Wrapping the warm fleece around her, she noticed his hand fiddling around in his pocket. But she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Do you want me to leave you alone? Do you need to talk? I don’t know what you want anymore,” He placed his hands on the railing in front of her but had yet to step into the gazebo. She grabbed one of his huge hands in her small ones. She traced a single finger across his skin and callouses and felt him shudder.
“Jon, it’s not you, it’s m-”
“Ara, do not tell me you’re gonna break up with me using that excuse,” The pained expression on his face tugged on her heart.
“Jon, no! It’s just that...well,” she placed his hand against her stomach. She knew he wouldn’t feel anything but hoped the idea was implied. She frantically watched his eyes, silently begging him not to leave her. She had been a child born out of wedlock, forcing her parents to marry. Eventually they grew to love one another but she still remembered the screaming fights of her tot years. Pictures could not capture everything. Jon’s eyes grew wide. Ara’s stomach dropped...until his mouth grew even wider.
“Ara, that’s amazing! I love you!” He grabbed her face and pressed his lips to hers. Then he quickly hopped over then gazebo railing like a spider monkey, emitting a giggle from Ara. Jon picked her up from the waist and spun her around. She continued to giggle as they spun and spun- dizzy in love.
When they settled down, Jon sat her down reverently on  a bench.
“This is great news. I’m so excited,” Jon took Ara’s hands in his and began to sink to one knee. Ara’s heart quickened in her chest, “Will you marry me?”