Memory #2: Is that a ring in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
On our first date, after our bellies were full of several pints of Guinness, A and I left the bar and walked to the John F. Kennedy house in Brookline. This is the house that John F. Kennedy was born and raised in Massachusetts. It is a cute house on a quiet street that has been turned into a museum. It was past midnight, so A and I hopped the little fence and sat on the porch swing. We had one of those conversations where you just knew that this was “it”…the beginning of something special.
About eight months later, A kept bringing up that he wanted to revisit our spot on the porch. We tried to make it several times, but each time it did not work out for some reason. FINALLY, he said that we HAD to go- no matter what happens. We had a date planned for that night- movie, coffee, and a stroll to the house. The day rolled around and I told a friend at work how adamant he was that we had to go to this house. I thought it was strange and funny. And then, a thought…
Me- Do you think he’s going to propose?
K- I was thinking that but I wasn’t about to say it.
Me- No! No, he can’t propose. We’ve only known each other for eight months. That’s not enough time.
K- What are you going to say if he does?
Me- No of course. I mean, not “No, I don’t want to be with you.” More like “No, ask me next year.” It’s too soon.
K-Well, you never know. If he does, you have to call me. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.
That evening, A continued to act funny. He was a bit nervous and unsure, which I again thought was odd. Perhaps I was just looking too carefully. You know, the way you look at the spelling of a word over and over again until it starts to look wrong. After the movie, we stopped at Starbucks to get coffee. I DID notice that he had his hand in his pocket the whole time, trying to get his wallet and pay all using the other hand. Huh…strange. I started to get nervous.
We walked over to our spot and started to chat. I wish I could remember the details of the conversation, but it all seemed like a blur. What I do remember is this:
A (trying to get down on one knee but doesn’t get that far)- Will you marry me?
Me (crying, of course)- Are you serious? Really?
A (now feeling a bit awkward because of my response)- Uh…yes….
Me- Yes! Of course, yes!
That’s all I remember of it. When I got home, I knew I had to make one phone call.
Me- So, I’m calling you.
K- Okay…so…wait! Really? He asked? You’re calling me!
Me- Yep. And I said yes.