"Hi Dad," Matt greeted as he opened strode through the door.
"Could it be? My youngest has returned?" Chris poked his head out from the kitchen, grinning.
"Sure have, Pops."
Matt went into the kitchen and gave his dad a hug.
"Beer?" Chris opened the fridge door and held a beer out for him.
"Thanks," Matt nodded, twisting the top off. "How's Chace?"
"Busy, as always," Chris replied, opening his own beer. "Scouting for new locations downside. Have you managed to get a hold of him when you've been downside?"
"We've had a few phonecalls, but I haven't seen him," Matt chuckled. He leaned against the bench, watching his father prepare dinner. "So, I actually came to give you some news."
"I suspected." Chris put the rest of the vegetables into the oven and then brushed his hands off on the tea towel. "Does it have something to do with the lovely Miss Hanson?"
"How did you guess?"
"Son," Chris laughed. "I didn't think you were moving to Tulsa because you loved cows."
Matt grinned a little. "You worked it out, huh?"
"Well, I'm glad that you two have worked it out. I always did like her."
"She has that effect," Matt smiled. "Actually, there's more to it than that. I um... well, I spoke to Walker on Thanksgiving."
"I imagine you spoke to the whole family on Thanksgiving," his father joked.
"Terrible!" Matt teased. "Terrible Dad joke!"
"Humour your old man, would you?"
Matt faked a giant laugh, slapping his knee as he did so, then stopped, but remained smiling. "I asked Walker for his blessing to propose to her."
Chris was silent for a long moment.
"Dad?"
"Wait a minute," Chris looked up at the ceiling. "I'm just trying to work out how much time you wasted not realising that she was the one."
"Har-har."
Chris enveloped his son in a hug and ruffled his hair up. "Well, about time, kiddo. Chace and I were getting worried you'd lose her if you waited any longer."
"So was I," Matt replied.
"Come with me."
Matt crinkled his eyebrows in confusion, but followed his father from the kitchen to his bedroom, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Chris rifle through a drawer in his bedside table.
"Aha!" Chris stood and held out a ring box for Matt to take from him.
"Dad..." Matt trailed off, opening the box and seeing his mother's old ring, that had been passed down for generations, a vintage Harry Winston white gold band, cushion cut diamond with a pave diamond halo.
"I think it's only right that you use ring," he smiled. "A diamond should reflect it's owner, and Avery is the only person I can imagine wearing this. She is the kind of girl you marry, Matthew. So, if you're going to do this, you need to do it right."
"Dad..." Matt gave his father a hug. "Thank you so much."