Stanley and I had six more dates in the few weeks that followed our day at the park. Yes, six. I kept count in my journal. Not that I needed to my mother reminded me on a daily basis.
And although we continued to get more comfortable with one another, I was still surprised that he was actually my boyfriend. This was mostly because he didn’t feel like a boyfriend.
Stanley never tried to hold my hand since that day in the park and he definitely didn’t try to kiss me — or anything like that. Which I guess was okay to a degree because I was terrified of what I’d do if he did.
However, I was also a little frustrated, because I was kind of curious about what it was like to be kissed — and thought, with a boyfriend, I would finally find out.
One thing for sure Stanley was always polite, opening doors for me, and paying for my meals— that’s how I figured out he was my boyfriend and not just a friend. Well, that an Eveey said guys don’t pay for your meal unless they're interested in you romantically.
It seemed clear that he liked me or he wouldn’t keep asking me out. I just think he was old-fashioned, like some of the men in the romance movies on the BBC. They practically were married before they even held hands with the women they were courting. I mean DArcy and Elizabeth didn’t kiss for the first time until after their wedding ceremony.
Wanting another perspective, and feeling like our new and improved relationship could handle it, I brought the topic up with my mother one night over dinner.
It was embarrassing having this conversation with her, but she was married once, so I thought maybe she would have some insight. Besides she was so happy since Stanley and I started dating I thought she might be open to a little friendly advice.
I started the conversation out by mentioning that Stanley wasn’t very romantic. I was trying to get her to understand through innuendo that he hadn’t kissed me yet, without actually saying, he had never kissed me yet.
My mother was quick to poo poo my declaration, “Romance? What’s that? It’s a fairytale, Ruby. Please take your head out of those silly movies you watch once and for all. There are no fairy tales in real life.”
She went on to remind me of just how lucky I was that a man was interested in me at all and cautioned me, once again, that I better not blow it.
Conversation over.
So I went I circled back around to my only other resource, Eveey, thinking maybe I didn’t offer enough detail the first time around. This time I explained how I had tried many times over the last few dates to lean in at the end of the night, like I’d seen in the movies, so that my lips were in position for a kiss, but nothing. Once he even asked me if I had too much to drink, implying I had fallen forward accidentally. Yes, that one wine spritzer really did me in.
Once again, Eveey listened intently as I described our relationship in detail, nodding as I went. Then after I finished she did her typical pause before saying with confidence, “Just jump his bones”.
Yeap, that’s Eveey. Piece of cake. I just need to jump his bones. Not bloody likely, I think in response using my best British accent.
I confided one other thing in Eveey that had begun to bother me more than I liked to admit. And that was, although Stanley was nice, I didn’t really feel attracted to him.
I asked Eveey if sometimes attraction happens later on. I used the relationship between Darcy and Elizabeth (Pride and Prejudcie) and how long it took for their attraction to develop as my analogy, that movie was such a wonderful source of ongoing knowledge.
Actually, come to think about it, the contrast between Elizabeth and Darcy’s love story versus me and Stanley didn’t work because it may have taken a while for them to fall in love, but once they did, it was so obvious. Nothing’s obvious about Stanley and I. So, maybe Pride and Prejudice wasn’t the best analogy after all. I begin to think about other famous romance movies when I realize Eveey is talking to me. I look a her and see she’s smiling satisfied with her response.
This is it. I just know she’s going to say something brilliant. Something that will convey all is well between Stanley and I. I just need to be patient.
“I’m sorry Eveey, I missed that what did you say?” I smile in anticipation.
“I said, sounds like a dud. I’d drop him if I were you.” Eveey retorts then continues, “look at these espadrilles” she says pointing to a magazine in front of her, “I saw something just like this at Goodwill the other day. I’m so mad I didn’t grab em, I bet they’re gone”.
My shoulders slum at Eveey’s response. She was my last hope. I should have seen this one coming. Of course Eveey would say drop em, she met a new guy every week. Dropping one guy for her just meant there was room for the new guy to step in. Eveey always said, I could get as many guys as her if I just “put it out there more.” I was afraid to ask her what that meant so I would always just smile and change the subject instead.
Besides, none of this conjecture mattered in the big scheme of things because Stanley is taking me out to Frederick’s, the local steakhouse tonight, the most romantic place in town, and I can’t wait. Who knows what might happen.
Later that night, Stanley arrives at my house, on time as usual, and we head off to Frederick’s Steakhouse. My mother even lunged at me as I exited and hugged me. At least I think it was a hug. It wasn’t something I experienced often, specifically with her. I looked back as I closed the front door and thought I saw her eyes welling up. I mean it’s a steakhouse mother not a wedding chapel mother.
Stanley seemed more nervous than usual, which said a lot considering her wasn’t what I would call laid back. He always s emend uncomfortable and on edge; like a square peg continually being forced into a round hole.
But this was different and based on our past I still felt a little gunshot when he started to behave off, wondering if it was maybe me again and I had done something to upset him. I definitely didn’t want a repeat of the Bread Basket depacal. In fact, that place left such a bad taste in my mouth I hadn’t been there since that date. Every time my mother brought it up as an option for our post Sunday church brunch, I directed her toward Peach’s Diner on the other side of town. She was a sucker for their eggs Benedict.
As Stanley drove to the restaurant, I tried to bring up subjects to further test his mood and also distract him for the potential wrong I’d done.
I asked him about his latest project at work, he had mentioned it earlier in the week and I thought it would show how well I pay attention. Finally we arrived at the steakhouse and I breathed out a heavy sigh in gratitude that the ride was over.
Frederick’s ended up being as nice as I remembered, beautifully furnished, mahagony wood trim throughout, a man playing at a piano, the smell of steak wafting through the air, dim lighting, and candles flickering at every cozy table tucked away through out the restaurant. I was there a few years back for a second cousin’s wedding and my memory sure didn’t deceive me. And, this time I am here for my special night instead of cousin Aubry's.
After ordering our steaks I settled in looking forward to a nice evening. I even ordered a glass of wine. Real wine, not a spritzer. I asked the waiter for his suggestion, since I knew absolutely nothing about wine. The last time I had a glass of wine was… I’m pretty sure from the wine taster at Bertson’s Grocers last year— and that was only a sip, then I spit it out. It was after my shift, I still needed to drive home, and didn’t want to get pulled over for drunk driving.
Stanley seemed to get even more nervous after the waiter left the table. He dropped his napkin twice while trying to place it on his lap. I racked my brain for something pleasant to say thinking of the upcoming concert in the park I had read about in the paper this morning.
I began to speak when Stanley interrupted me, “Ruby, I would like to talk to you about something.” Uh oh, this doesn’t sound good. What did I do?
“This has been a very nice time over the last few weeks with you and, uh, I…” Stanley paused and looked down at his lap like he was searching for something. Is he looking for his keys? Oh no, he’s not leaving, is he? “Um, Ruby, what I want to say is.” Stanley’s face flushes red as he tries to get the words out. “Um, so…” This is it. He’s dumping me. I did something wrong again and he’s dumping me. I look down unable to make I contact for fear I’d start crying.
“Um, Ruby...Bluh , Bluh, Bluh…” I could no longer listen. It was just too hard to hear the words. Maybe Ishould just get up and leave.
“Ruby” “RUBY, what do you say?” Stnaley’s voice snaps me back to reality. “What’s your answer?” Stanley says his voice trailing off near the end.
“Hm?” I respond, “I’m sorry can you say that again?” I smile politely hoping maybe he’ll just forget the whole thing since he’s now realized that I missed it.
“I said, do you want to marry me” Stanley said this time a little louder and with more frustrated enphasis. I’d just taken a sip of my wine to calm myself when his words tumbled out causing me to begin coughing profusely. Between coughs, and gulps for air, I managed to respond, “Wha…cough, wha…cough, WHAT?” I squeaked out a bit too loud causing some of the diners to glance over.
Okay, there was no way I just heard that. He probably asked if I knew someone named Mary or said that I seemed really merry, after all, I’d been creating some pretty upbeat conversation throughout the night.
I glanced at Stanley and saw him cringe in response to my request that he repeat the question, like I had asked him to stick a dinner fork in his eye.
His face flushed even brighter as he began to speak, “Um, I…I asked you to, if you would want to get ma-married..to..uh, me?”
This can’t be true. I’m dreaming now. I’m home from my date, in bed sleeping, and am having a dream. Wake up, Ruby. Your dreaming, Ruby. I reach out and subtly, without calling attention to myself, pinch my right forearm. Okay, I definitely felt that. This is real. Unless I’m pinching myself in my dream? I looked up and over at Stanley, who was now looking anywhere but at me.
Then I looked around the restaurant to see if people were flying or anything else weird was going on to confirm it was, in fact, a dream. Nope, no flying, everything seemed normal, which meant this is real, it’s really happening.
My brain began somersaulting unable to focus on any one thought as I desperately reached for a response. What did women say in the movies when they were proposed to? I searched my mind frantically for a movie scene displaying a marriage proposal…“There is no way you could have offered a proposal of marriage in any way that I would have accepted...”
Nope that’s the bad marriage scene from Pride & Prejudice. What did she say in the good scene? I look over at Stanley who’s now occupied folding his napkin into tiny pleats on the table.
I am, right now, experiencing the moment I have dreamed of — my favorite part of every movie or romance novel — the marriage proposal.
I mean it’s not happening exactly like the standard proposal in the movies. In fact, I’m pretty sure the guy typically is down on one knee, but hey aren’t movies over-exaggerated anyway? Isn’t that what Eveey said? The fact is, just now Stanley asked me to marry him, and I said…Crap I didn’t answer him did I?
I glance over at Stanley who is now swirling his fork back and forth through his mashed potatoes , that had arrived a few minutes earlier along with both our steaks.
So this is where I’m supposed to say “yes” to him. So I’ll just say it right now…Why am I not saying it? “Crmmm” I clear my throat as I attempt the word.
Stanley looks up, “What? What did you say?” Stanley’s voice is shaking slightly. He looks so scared. I kind of felt bad for him. Boy, it's tough being a guy.
I refocus on my response and utter the only thing that makes sense in my head, “But we’ve only been dating a few weeks?” Oops, did I say that out loud?
Oh well, it’s out there which will at least give him a chance to back out or clarify if, somehow I still misheard him and he really had asked me to carry him or something else that rhymes with marry.
“I, uh, I do understand that Ruby, but, well, I mean we get along so well, and, I’ve never been one to date. So, you know, what do you think?” Stanley diverted his eyes from me as he finished speaking.
Okay, so it’s still game on. What am I doing? This is my chance. This is my way out of the house — I mean that’s not why I should say yes — but this is my chance to get married, to have a life. This may be my only chance. Am I crazy? Why won’t I say yes?
I clear my throat again, then whisper a barely audible “Uh, yeah…I mean, uh, yep…er, yes”
“Yes?” Stanly looks up in shock. “Yes? Did you say yes?” I couldn’t tell if Stanley was excited, relieved or going to be sick. The expression on his face was odd. I’m sure it was excitement though. I probably just have never seen him excited before.
My heart began beating out of my chest as the brevity of what just happened sank in. I was sure it could be heard by the entire restaurant.
I moved my hands over my chest and pressed down trying to soften the pounding as the waiter arrived to see if we needed anything. The perfect distraction, for both of us, I believe.
The rest of the evening went by in a blur. I barely ate due to the vise grip on my stomach from all the excitement. Stanly remained quiet. In fact, the subject of marriage wasn’t even brought up again the entire evening. He simply returned me home after the date without another word regarding his proposal, other than to hand me a small box after he pulled the car up in front of my house.
I opened the box, hands shaking. It contained a small diamond solitaire ring inside. He told me it was his great aunt’s. I held the box in my hand looking down at the ring in awe.
“You can, uh, put it on if you want to.” He said. I pulled the ring from the box and paused thinking of which finger to try it on before remembering there is only ONE finger to put THIS ring on. I slowly moved the ring down the finger on my left hand till it stopped hard at my knuckle.
I backed it up a bit and tried again, hitting the same impassable point as before. Crap.
“Oh?” Stanley said realizing what was happening. “I can take it into the jeweler this week on my lunch break, there’s one by my office. What size should I tell them to make it?”
I thought for a moment. What size ring did I wear? I had no idea. “Well, this ring fits this finger,” I said as I pulled a ring I was wearing on my right hand off and handed it to Stanley.
He took it from me and placed it in the inside pocket of his blazer. I looked at him for a moment thinking, this is it. He’s finally going to kiss me. So, I waited staring at him trying to look swooney or seductive or whatever that look is that women have on their face right before they're kissed.
Stanley looked back at me in confusion, then his face flushed as realization set in. He hesitated at first, then moved in his seat, cleared his throat loudly, and leaned in.
I closed my eyes in anticipation waiting for the touch of his lips. But instead was hit on my right cheek with a quick-dry peck.
Wait, was that it? I opened my eyes to see Stanley’s face moving away from mine as he sat back in his seat again. “Well, goodnight Ruby. I’ll call you tomorrow to talk more about the details.”
I stared at him for a moment waiting to see if maybe something was still going to happen, then got out of the car when I realized it wasn’t, and headed for the house. Okay, not the “first kiss” I was dreaming of - but who cares — I’m getting married!
When I walked inside the house, after my night out with Stanley, my mother was waiting for me, which was to be expected. It had become the routine after every date with Stanley. Greet my mom in the living room, then adjourn to the kitchen for a micro blow by blow of the entire evening.
But. Tonight I had the feeling things were going to go a bit different. I got this impression, by the items I saw laid out on the coffee table in a fan shape, Modern Bride, How to Plan the Perfect Wedding, Wedding Flowers and More, and a magazine with an article title plastered across the front, Ten top looks That Will Make any Mother of the Bride Shine.
Yeap, my engagement was clearly no surprise to her.
Stanley’s mother, Florence, must have communicated STanley’s plan’s with her. No wonder she was all teary eyed when I left earlier that night. Which actually irked me for just a moment. I wanted to be the one to break the news to my mother ,after all, and now I missed my chance.
Well, at least we can still head into the kitchen for my minute by minute breakdown of the evening, boy this was going to be fun.
But, before I even had a chance to open my mouth, my mother beat me to it. First she asked to see the ring, which was instantly anti-climatic due to STanley having to take it to resized. I actually, had to please my case for a few minutes before she was certain the story was even accurate. Her first inclination was to begin a rant about how I “messed it all up AGAIN”.
But, after we got that “close call” squared away, m mother proceed to fire off her plans for my wedding, so far. You would think this lady’s been plotting this event out for five years based on what she had nailed down already. I don’t think she took a breath for ten minutes,
“…and, tomorrow we have an appointment at Barb’s Wedding boutique at 10 am …and this Tuesday you and I are meeting at Cake Creations for a cake tasting.”
I finally was able to interrupt when she paused for a deep inhale,.
“Mother, I think Stanley might want to be involved in the cake tasting too.” Hmm, I wonder if he even likes cake? This is so weird, I’m discussing a wedding cake tasting as casual as if I'm picking up clothes from the dry cleaners. Which I surely am not. I’m tasting wedding cakes for my wedding because… I’M GETTING MARRIED!
My brain begins to spin, as my mother rambles off more plans until nausea starts to rise in my stomach. So I tell her I have to use the bathroom and head for the stairs, as her voice drones on without me.
I just need a few minutes of quiet to take all of this in. “I’m going to take a bath,” I call downstairs to my mother interrupting her distant mumbling.
“But, Ruby, I have more plans that we need to go over,” my mother’s voice suddenly amplifies causing me to peer over the railing. She’s now standing at the bottom of the stairs with her right foot perched on the first step. Never mind, I need to call Florence anyway. We need. To go over wedding music options.
I take my que, and quickly head for the bathroom, then shut the door behind me, shutting out the sound of my mothers voice echo from the kitchen below.
I walk to the tub and turn the faucet on full blast, drowning out any remainder of noise fighting for my minds overwhelmed attention.
Quiet.
I sit on the toilet watching the tub fill as I run through the night’s events, still in disbelief over what’s happened tonight. I mean two month’s ago, I never had a boyfriend before— and now I’m engaged?? It’s really beyond anything I could have ever imagined for myself.
I begin to undress as I contemplate my life over the last three weeks. Then, I lower myself into the warm water and turn the faucet off. I can hear my mother’s voice coming from the kitchen below. It sounds like she’s still on the phone, no doubt planning out every remaining details of my wedding.
My wedding...my wedding to Stanley. Gulp. Hmm, what was that? Why do I suddenly feel queasy again?
My heartbeat begins to pick up, but not in a joyful way, more like a panicky way. Which really made no sense. How could I not be full of joy?
Getting married was what I fantasized about, specifically the part about being able to get out on my own, away from her. Living my life, without anyone else’s constant input, making my own decisions, watching what I want on tv all the time, doing what I want on a Saturday instead of taking her on her errands all day, actually eating what I want for dinner for once, and many other things, things I did’t allow myself to think about often.
Things like what I saw in that craft magazine that bought after my shift a few months ago. The one I kept hidden under my mattress and only dared look at when I was certain my mother was asleep. As though if she were awake she would somehow sense my rising joy and come running to snuff it out, then set the magazine on fire.
My heart skipped a beat again drawing my attention to the strange feeling overtaking me. What the heck is your problem Ruby? There was no denying something was off, whether I was happy about it or not. A feeling kept picking at me causing my throat to tighten, and my stomach to flip.
It coudn’t be the wedding, I’d have to be crazy to feel anything but elation about that.
Was it Stanley? I mean maybe he isn’t who I’d envisioned marrying, but how many Mr. Darcy’s are actually walking around in real life these days.
And, as mother always reminded me, “my romance movies and books are all posh posh” which I believe translated to full of it. That’s why she said I shouldn’t be wasting my time of such frivolty— it just filled my head with nonsense.
I swirl the bubbles around in the water with my washcloth as I think about my feelings toward Stanley. Was I in love with Stanley? How the heck did I know. I mean what did I possibly have as a jumping off place. He was my first relationship.
It didn’t feel like I thought love should feel based on the movies I watched...at least yet. I think for a few minutes… I bet once we get married, I’ll fall deeply in love with him. I just don’t know Stanley well enough yet. At least there was one thing I was sure of, he was definitely in love with me.
I figured that out the other night while I was lying wide awake in bed unable to sleep. I realized, he wouldn’t be asking me out repeatedly if he weren’t in love with me. But, I think the falling in love process is different for guys — due to the fact they don’t watch as many romance movies as women do. They just have nothing to compare things to.
What about that kiss in the car earlier tonight, though? That really fell flat. It definitely wasn’t what I imagined kissing to be like, especially by a man in love. He was probably jsut nervous, I know I was. Plus, he’s super polite and well-mannered (which is actually very much like Mr. Darcy like when you think about it).
I hold my breath and sink under the surface of the tub water — beautiful silence — If only I could live here. I should have been a fish.
My mother begins rapping on the door so I rise up to a sitting position once again.
“Ruby are you almost done in there we have some things we need to discuss, hurry up, dear” she sings sweetly in a high pitched voice. Dear? That’s a new one. I don’t think she’s ever called me dear before in my life.
“I’ll be right out,” I sing back as I rise from the tub annoyed by my mother’s untimely interruption, as though it was unexpected.
The important thing to stay focused on right now is — I’m getting married…and finally moving out of here, I think as I grab a towel. A smile rises on my face at the thought and I quickly dry off, throw on my robe, and head down the hall to my mother’s bedroom.
The coming weeks are crazy, between work and my mother’s wedding planning. I end up choosing my wedding dress on my first visit to Barb’s Wedding Boutique, a popular bridal salon in town. Actually, the only bridal salon in town.
It isn’t exactly what I would have picked out, but my mother feared up when I walked out in it, and even talked about how happy my father would have been to see me in it, so let’s just say — decision over. She never brought up my father, other than on his birthday when we visited his grave.
I‘m beginning this wedding is the way for my mother and I to finally make amends and put our horrible past behind us. Which, thankfully, means my life will be getting a lot easier.
And the wedding dress really isn’t that bad, it’s just a bit gaudier than I would’ve liked. There are big ivory roses all over the skirt and the sleeves are large and puffy making me look like a football player, and when I move the large hoop shaped skirt swings from side to side like a big bell.
Some of the other wedding plans have gone a bit more to my liking. Stanley ended up choosing our wedding cake flavors, carrot cake and red velvet, which were also my favorites, another sign we’re meant to be together. Well, I did like the almond-flavored cake more, it was amazing, but he was right in choosing the red velvet. And even though carrot cake always reminds me of holiday fruit cake, ugh, the incredible coincidence is that I grow carrots in my garden, which just shows how in sync we are.
I even relayed my latest observations about how Stanley and I were growing closer and so in sync to Eveey at work the other day, but she didn’t seem very impressed. She said, “Sounds like he bulldozed right over you and what you wanted”. But I think it’s hard for others to understand the inner workings of a couple. Or at least that’s what I read in a Self Magazine article I saw while stocking magazines at work the other day.
The point is, I knew what it meant when Stanley did things like, pick out our cake or accompany me to choose our wedding flowers.
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