The Ring
I got engaged.
If that seems brusquely said (typed?) it's not because I'm not excited about it. But rather that I am blown away by the whole thing and still a little bit numb. I've been seeing Dr Germ for years now and - year long hiatus notwithstanding - she has been a great friend as much as she was my "special someone". I'd waited long enough and now was the time.
Truth to be told I'd been planning this for months. She'd found a ring that had taken her fancy at an antique jewelry store in the Marina. At the time I'd feigned boredom and played up the man stereotype to the hilt - but secretly (!!) I'd made a mental note (and a lot of actual physical notes, surreptitiously taken of course). That was a year ago and between then and four months ago was the long dark teatime of my mother. The less said about that the better. The fact is, the time had come and I sprung (slowly and deliberately) into action. Using my notes, I found a trustworthy jeweler and showed him my design and my plan. And so the ring was cast ...
But I didn't have it in hand, and with Valentine's Day (cliche!) and a trip to Sudan on the way, I had to play it cool. I went into psy-ops mode:
Her: What do we say to people when we get to Sudan?
Me: We tell them that we're engaged to be married, I guess
Her: But we're not, and we'd by lying to them
Me: Don't worry about that part, it'll work out ...
Her:
and
Me: make sure Sunday night is aaaaallll freeeeeee, ok?
Her: What are you doing?
Me: Nuthin' ... just, you know, yeah ... hey, is that a new episode of 30 Rock?
Her: Ohhh, 30 Rock!
The jeweler told me he'd have the ring on Friday, but as Friday drew to a close he called and said it was no go. I had to propose on Saturday, otherwise I'd have to propose on Sunday - which would have been too obvious and made me look heavy handed. I had to propose before Valentine's Day, because I was NOT going to be That Guy. But here was the problem: a 1 year old's birthday party in Pleasanton with her friends. No way to weasel out without making her furious but at the same time, it got me much closer to the jeweler's. So I told him to call me at midday on Saturday and pretend to be my work, and that I had to come in for a bit.
Cut to Saturday midday, we're not set to head to the party before 2p, and at noon the phone rings. "Yes, I can come in, but I can't stay long," and a sidelong glance catches the exasperated look and the set of the mouth that signals a hard time on it's way. I didn't bargain on how hard of a time though. She just would not let it go. "Why do they need you to come in? Can't someone else do it? I mean what do they need you to do? What do they need?!" I didn't think she'd ask that - I mean I knew she'd be mad but I had no plan for what I'd say in case she wanted to know (I wouldn't survive a day as Don Draper). With some effort I convinced her that I had to and off we went. I dropped her off at the birthday house and after saying some hellos I left with a promise to return as quickly as I could.
Meanwhile ...
The jeweler met me in a parking lot a few exits down the freeway and I got the ring in the box. Diamond commercials don't mention how the square jawed paragon of masculinity manages to hide a ring box on his person without it looking like he has an odd tumor. After some thought I put the ring in my pocket and prayed that I wouldn't lose it.
We stayed at the party till a little before dusk then drove back in the fading light. I tried to stay casual but my plan required us to be at the proposal spot before sunset. As we approached Rockridge I casually turned away from home and up behind the Claremont hotel. She was preoccupied with something else and (as I found out later) she had "figured out" that I'd propose on Sunday, she didn't think anything of it. Excellent ...
I pulled off the road onto the dusty shoulder and below us the lights of Oakland and Berkeley, the Bay Bridge and, beyond it, San Francisco and the oranges and purples of the gloaming. It was cold and we hugged and she said, "This is nice, we ought to come up here more often." I smiled and was suddenly overcome with absolute terror. I mean, we all know when the time comes to propose, and we think we know the girl we're proposing to, but there's always the chance that she'll say no. What if she said no?
I took a deep breath and turned to look her in the face.
Me: I have a question for you, and I think you know what it is ... Her: ...Me: ... and if you answer yes, I'll give you this ... Me: ... and if you say n ... Her: Yes
I thought I would feel different afterward and I didn't want the moment to end, but eventually it was too cold and we just headed back to her place and sat on the couch. We tried to preserve the solemnity of the moment but ... well, it just got too quiet and too creepily somber, so we headed off to see the Pones, which made us feel better. After all this is the sort of thing you share with family...