“Should the napkins be lavender [there should be a comma here.] or this baby blue?” She holds the napkins up, one in each French-tipped hand. <-- I think 'French-manicured hand' would work better.
“We’re going to get old [comma here] and I’ll build us ramps with handles instead of stairs.”
Her dark eyelashes open and close around pale blue irises in a deliberate dance. He shakes his head, then speaks.
With one knee against the floor, he sings up at his fiancée,
“Because I like shopping,” she says and folds her arms across her chest. “And because I need to go shopping for my job. My career. I can’t just show up in sweat pants or jeans, for Christ’s sake.”
This time [comma here] his tears fall.
He reaches out to pull the check list [s] from her hands[/s] and then takes her delicate, pale fingers in his tan, worn hands.
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