It was perfect, and it was worth all the effort I made — from using my vast information networks to get her ring size to getting a ring; from secretly traveling to St. Louis to ask for her parents' blessing to the proposal itself.
She arrived in Boston late Thursday, and we exchanged Christmas gifts when I got home from work. We went to bed, but I could barely sleep from the anticipation of the next day. When we awoke, we laid in bed talking for what seemed like an eternity, but I didn't want to rush her out of bed and make her think that something was up. So we took our time, and when we finally got up, I told her we needed to get some groceries and, "if you're good, we can stop at Tealuxe" — a gourmet tea cafe in the Back Bay — "and have a cup of tea."
We dressed in our sweaters and coats — it was still cold, despite the pretty, sunny day — and made our way to, unbeknownst to her, The Spot.
So the children's book, Make Way for Ducklings, has played a small, but cute, role in our relationship. It's the story of a mother and father duck who fly to Boston and eventually decide to make a home for themselves and their ducklings, Jack, Kack, Lack, Mack, Nack, Ouack, Pack, and Quack, in the Public Gardens. The book prominently features the Common, the Gardens, and Beacon Hill, and we both fell in love with it. I sent her a copy of the book in September as a surprise, and she loved it.
Well, to commemorate the park's role in the story, artist Nancy Schön crafted bronze statues of the ducklings and placed them in the Public Gardens. And every time Jenn comes to Boston, we always try to go see the ducklings.
I knew that's where I wanted to propose; it was a place that had meaning to us, and it was a place we could always come back to and reminisce.
As we crossed the street into the park, my heart was pounding. This was the moment that I was dreaming about, the moment whose anticipation kept me awake so many nights. I gripped her hand tight as we walked into the park and strolled up to the ducklings.
"Aw, there's the ducklings," she said.
"I know!" I said. "Hey … could you take my picture with the ducklings?"
"Sure."
"Wait, let's wait for these people to go by; I don't want to look silly."
"OK."
I could feel the ring in my pocket, and I rubbed it with my hand. Is this truly real?
It was starting to get awkward as I was just standing there and she was waiting for me to hand her the camera. I had to think fast.
"Oh, man!" I exclaimed. "That guy just got hit by a car!"
"Where?!" she said, spinning around. "I can't see anything. There are bushes over there."
In an instant, the ring was out of my pocket and down on the bricks, next to the duckling.
"Oh, I guess he's … I guess he's all right."
Perplexed, she turned around. "OK … so, do you want to hand me the camera?"
"Sure," I said. "… But first, there's something you need to see down here."
She walked closer to me and looked down. She spotted the ring and gasped.
"Do you know what that is?" I asked.
"Yes … " she said in almost a whisper. She bent down to pick it up, and she pulled in close to me.
"I'll tell you what it is to me," I said. "It's a symbol of my commitment to you, and of the beginning of our life together. And I want to know … will you marry me?"
"Of course!" she said, crying.
I started crying, and we kissed a long kiss, and held each other tightly. I've never been so happy.
"You might want to call your parents," I said.
"Yeah," she said with a chuckle.
" … But they already know."
"WHAT? They already know?!"
I explained my secret trip to St. Louis, and how I asked her parents, and she started to cry even more. We held hands as we walked through the park to Newbury Street, and I explained everything I had planned. The Grand Scheme.
She spent much of the rest of the afternoon on the telephone, calling friends and family, and it gave me time to reflect on what had happened. It was finally real, and it felt strange, in a good way. I felt very grown up.
As we walked around Boston, the city seemed even more beautiful than it ever had. The snow on the ground, the warm colors of the old brick buildings … it was starting to feel like home, and I was so happy.
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