As I told you in Part Une,
My husband and I were supposed to spend a nice Saturday in town,
And I could barely get out of my sweats.
I could barely get out of bed.
Plus, on top of the way I was feeling, the way I was looking was not so hot.
Take my normal hungover look—a look which involves hair piled high on the top of my head, half-closed eyes, mascara smudged down my face—
and add a bright blue mouth.
But, this day and this outing seemed important to my husband, so I rallied, showered, dressed, and, in fact, even put on a pair of wedge platform sandals, so clearly I was really trying.
In fact, come to think of it, I’m sure that I put on the nice shoes so that people would be so distracted by the view south of my ankles
that they wouldn’t notice the train wreck north of my neck.
I remember going downtown and shopping around a luxury store in which they had men’s and women’s clothing, accessories, jewelry and a small, upscale restaurant.
Still nauseas and spinning,
I could barely stomach my grilled cheese sandwich
(which, now that I think about it, probably cost $25.00 and was probably really freakin’ delicious. What a shame.)
but, I continued to push through, eager to make the best of the day with the man I loved.
After lunch, my husband took me by the hand and led me down to the first floor. He told me that he wanted to show me something.
He led me to mecca:
The jewelry counter.
And not just any jewelry counter…
It was the case with the diamond rings.
This was it. I knew it.
He was going to ask me to marry him, at the department store, a la Trey and Charlotte in Sex and the City.
My smile was so wide, as I caught myself beaming in the small mirror that stood atop the jewelry counter.
My delight and excitement were quickly replaced with abject dread, as I stared back at my reflection, in horror.
There I was, about to get engaged,
a moment that I would treasure for the rest of my days,
A moment to be photographed, to capture millions of photos of, to show our future grandchildren,
and my entire mouth was still a sickening shade of cobalt blue.
I was going to be sick,
And this was not just because of the one-too-many-blueberry-tinis, or whatever I had been drinking, like a complete and utter fool, the night before.
“Here we are,” started my husband, as my breath caught in my chest.
“I wanted to bring you here today so that you could try on rings to see what you like.”
He was beaming.
Suddenly, I could breathe again.
I never thought I would be so happy to not be getting proposed to.
A sigh escaped from my blue lips and I set about, having the most wonderful afternoon trying on the most beautiful diamond rings, with my most thoughtful fiancé-to be.
My lips turned pink again,
And my desire to get engaged reached a whole new level.
Something happens to a girl when she sees a beautiful engagement ring on her finger.
Must. Get. Ring. Back. On. Finger. Now.
I knew it was coming.
It just wasn’t coming quite quickly enough.
Now, before you write me off,
And call me crazy,
Know that there were some other mitigating factors.
There was a close family member who was sick, and whom I wanted to share my engagement with. I knew then that he might not make it to our wedding, so I wanted him to know that I was engaged and happy and desperately in love.
Knowing that an engagement was looming would make some brides-to-be-to-be feel a sense of calm and eager anticipation.
Not this girl.
I was kind of a wreck.
You see, I’m not good at the whole unknown thing.
This applies to so many things in life,
And knowing I was getting engaged, but not knowing when, how, where, etc, was not exactly easy for me.
Looking back on it, I wish I could have just relaxed and let it happen.
But, if you know me, you know that I’m not the most “relax and let it happen” type of person.
That fall, holidays came and went,
Occasions passed without occasion,
And my ring finger remained adorned by my small, silver band of promise.
I tried to remain calm and optimistic,
And on the night before we were set to take off for the U.S. Virgin Islands,
To go on a trip with my immediate family to St. John,
I decided to finally chill.
My husband and I were relaxing, eating Chinese food and watching TV on our living room couch, and I realized that I loved our life together,
And that I was happier than I’d ever been,
Just doing nothing,
And everything, together.
I cracked open my fortune cookie with one hand as I took the small, white paper out with the other.
“A trip to the South will bring you unexpected happiness”
Little did I know what fortune had in store for me…
As I told you in Part Une,