Joan and Sam make plans for their upcoming nuptials. In the end she receives an unexpected proposal...

Chapter 24

Chapel of Love

Friday morning, I awoke feeling refreshed. Sam was going to marry me! Holy Cow! How did that happen? Sometime in February our babies would be born. Hm? On Valentine’s Day? Was I living some kind of fairy tale?

Shandy and I jumped all over each other for the longest time. I’m sure she had no idea why I was so happy. Likewise, I had no clue as to her own state of bliss either. I let her out into the back yard. She was out the door like a shot. Being the first one up, I put on a pot of coffee.

I ran upstairs and hit the shower. I simply couldn’t stop smiling. Whenever I was this happy I intuitively braced myself for disaster. I was going to have to start thinking of wedding plans. Sure, we could have waited till Christmas time or beyond for that matter, but why? Yes, I could think of one very good reason to "wait" but I wasn’t going to let my mind take a trip down that road. I wasn’t sure what time the rest of the house was getting up, so I ate some cereal, drank my coffee, made a sandwich, and out the door I went.

The Barclays lived a few miles away on the poor side of town, if such a thing could be said to exist here. Mrs. Barclay, an elderly lady, seemed very happy to see me. Maybe she was simply responding to the smile stuck on my own face? The job she wanted done was no sixty dollar job. I looked at her torn housecoat and the overall state of affairs and decided to "give something back."

I finished up around one o’clock and Mrs. B offered me lunch. I’m guessing she knew it was no sixty dollar job either. I refused her kind offer and told her I had other engagements. She thanked me for doing such excellent work and promised that I’d be the only one doing her painting from now on. I couldn’t help but laugh at her comment. I left their home and headed to the print shop. My business cards were ready. "Painting by Joan" in a bold fancy script across the front of the card. The red splash of paint in the upper left hand corner made all the difference. I was optimistically excited as I left the store.

Next stop: Hospin’s Paint Center. Mr. Hospin greeted me with a big smile. Told me he’d just got off the phone with Mrs. Barclay. Said she wouldn’t stop raving about my work. Maybe I’d done the right thing after all. I removed a few dozen cards from the box and handed them to him ceremoniously. His eyes lit up when he saw them.

"You know Joan, everyone has a special gift. It may not seem like much to you at your tender age, but you were born to paint." I smiled sadly in return. I began to wonder if I’d ever get a chance to fulfill any of my dreams. My own wood-shop, the band, etc. Hell, I hadn’t really begun to live. There wasn’t any time to worry about such things now. Mr. Hospin smiled at me and handed me a list of fresh prospects. Maybe I could line up a few jobs for the weekend.

I got home around three. Even with the way I’d been hitting my account, after I made a fresh deposit I’d still have over a thousand in it. I began thinking about my wedding. Would Mom help me make a wedding gown? Would my father even come? Did I want him there? Life seemed to be getting more complicated by the day. I thought about the twins and realized that it was getting complicated in a "good" way.

I found Aunt Melissa sitting at the kitchen table, having a coffee and a smoke and talking to someone. Her Aussie accent was in full swing so I guessed it was someone from home. Not one to intrude, I nodded hello, poured myself a cup and went out to the picnic table.

I wondered if we could have something of a reception in the backyard. I closed my eyes and saw the chinese lanterns hanging everywhere, a big tent in the far back, and flowers, lots and lots of fresh flowers. Would Sam be amenable to such a gathering? If you’d told me six months ago that I’d be the bride in a wedding this summer, I’d have asked you what you were smoking.

I crossed the street and knocked on my beloved’s front door. Aunt Alice greeted me and told me that she expected Sam home at any minute. I gulped noisily when she told me to call her "Mom." I pinched my left arm with my right hand. Nope, I wasn’t dreaming. I asked her about her thoughts for a wedding. She told me she didn’t really care as long as the two of us were together. I was really amazed by her attitude. I began to worry whether she had plans of selling the house and moving away. I couldn’t bring myself to ask her if that was the case. I shook it off as being nonsense.

Sam arrived home as "Mom’ and I sat at the kitchen table discussing wedding plans. "Tommy can’t pitch tomorrow. He threw out his shoulder during practice. So, I got the go ahead!" He seemed a bit too happy that one of his teammates had been injured.

"We were just discussing wedding plans," I said.

"Yeah, about that," he said. Uh oh! Was something wrong? "Joan, I just want to make sure you understand, when the babies are born, I’m choosing their names." I figured we had plenty of time to worry about names for the babies, so I decided to say nothing. "While we’re on the subject of names, what say you change your last name to mine since I’m going to be the man of the house anyway?"

This had been totally unexpected. Joan Peters? I knew my father would disown me if I went along with that idea. Then again, if he saw me wearing a wedding gown, he’d probably hate me forever anyway. Did I really care about my last name? John Joan Johnson, the name I was born with. I wasn’t sure I was ready to give that up.

"What say we both just keep our own names?" I asked.

"All right, but the babies are going to have my last name," he added belligerently. Again with the babies’ names. The babies were seven months away. I wasn’t going to get into a pissing contest over the babies’ names. He could be such a "guy" sometimes. I sighed aloud.

"It’s settled then," he said with finality.

"Sweetheart, if it’s that important to you, then so be it." I said magnanimously.

He held me tight and rubbed my back as if I was the one that was pregnant. Was I getting weaker or was he getting stronger? I figured with all the painting I’d been doing that I should be maintaining muscle tone at least. Still, I felt like I was falling behind somehow. He begged me to come to his game tomorrow. I had to refuse. I had band practice. That seemed to piss him off more than just a bit. I promised him that the next time he pitched, I’d be there.

I felt a bit guilty and invited him over for dinner, yet again. He smiled down at me. He was never one to refuse free food; especially if Aunt Melissa was doing the cooking. Damn, if he didn’t seem to be growing taller. Maybe I was shrinking? I told him I’d expect him over in one hour and ran home to help Aunt Mel get everything ready.

She was off the phone when I arrived and was fussing with her "secret" recipe for "beef merlot." I was going to have to find some time for her to show me a few recipes. The lady really knew her way around a kitchen. I put the dinner rolls in the oven and prepared the salads. We worked together in perfect harmony. She wouldn’t be leaving for three weeks yet, but I was missing her already.

"Aunt Melissa, would you mind if Sam and I got married before Danny and Melissa?" I had to ask. She put down the pot she was holding, removed her oven mitt and came over and gave me a hug. "I know this is all so sudden," I continued. Come Monday I’d have to look into the marriage license, etc. Sam and I were really going to do this! I felt absolutely giddy.

I found myself re-thinking the whole name thing. Would I really want to have a different last name from that of my children? "Joan Peters," sounded rather nice, didn’t it? Besides, Mom changed her name when she got married. I just wanted to be with Sam. I got lost for a few minutes dreaming about going to bed with him each and every night. OMG! Was that really going to happen? Maybe our mothers would have other ideas. I sighed again. I had to find out just what Mom and Aunt Alice (I’d never get used to calling her "Mom") had in mind by allowing Sam and I to wed.

Ours would be the happiest family ever to live in Ocean Township. I excused myself from the kitchen and ran upstairs to make a few phone calls. Apparently, I’d been getting good press. Three calls made, and three jobs lined up; two on Sunday and one for next Monday. Making money wasn’t supposed to be this easy, was it? I ran back downstairs and set the table in the dining room. Sam was beginning to become a regular dinner fixture around our house.

I poured myself a small glass of wine and made my way into the backyard. A few moments alone to drink and smoke. Was I simply pretending to be an adult? No one had put any limits on my behavior since Dad left. Was that a good thing? Sometimes I thought that I worried too much. This was one of those times. I finished my wine and my cigarette and made my way back into the kitchen. Aunt Melissa corralled me and put me back to work.

She smiled at me as I worked diligently in the kitchen following her orders to the letter. She said that I reminded her of Melissa in so many ways. I was totally flattered by her words. My eyes began welling up with tears.

"What’s wrong child?" She asked me seriously.

"I was just thinking that in a few more weeks you’ll be leaving," I said as my eyes continued to leak.

"Don’t you be worrying about that now. You’ve got two weddings to prepare for!" Her statement totally brought me around. I began to feel guilty and worry that I had no right to be so happy. I began to wonder why I associated happiness with disaster? Maybe Aunt Vivian would have some answers for me with regards to that question.

Mom arrived home in a joyous mood. She dropped her bag in our modest foyer and gave me a huge hug. "So, when’s the date?" She asked me as she smothered me in kisses. I couldn’t believe it! This was really going to happen. Once again I drifted off into a state of semi-consciousness. Sam and Joan were fighting and I did my best to separate them and lull them into a good mood. They were such good kids. Slowly, my daydream faded.

"I love you Mommy!" I squealed with delight. "Sam’s coming over for dinner. We have to make sure that the twins are getting enough to eat," I added and laughed. Where were all these thoughts coming from? Were they courtesy of the two milligrams of estradiol valerate I was taking daily?

"Mom! We have to get to the fabric store tomorrow. I need a wedding gown!" She smiled with me and cooed with excitement. I was going to be a bride in a wedding. YIKES! The fact that I was a newly minted "fourteen year old" kept nipping at the back of my mind. Hell, Sam and I weren’t cousins and this wasn’t Arkansas (sorry to all of you that live there!)

Sam came strolling in unannounced and headed straight to the "bar." Once again I cut him off at the pass and persuaded him that the last thing the babies needed was alcohol. I began worrying about his actions when I wasn’t around to make sure he behaved himself. I was never a fan of "magical transformations," but I’d have given anything to have the twins in my care.

Sam lost himself in his diet coke and waited for his dinner to be served. Aunt Melissa and Mom became engrossed in conversation and serving up the food became my job. I brought out the salads and the large variety of dressings and dinnertime began. Before Sam could utter a word I had the fresh dinner rolls and the butter served as well. I still couldn’t get over how much he ate.

If he continued to eat like this I’d have to start chipping in for groceries. I smiled a grateful smile as I realized I was simply glad that I’d be able to do so. Sam seemed oblivious to all going on around him. "Damn, I wish I could see you pitch tomorrow," I said and meant it. I was sure that a new level of nervousness would apply since I learned of the circumstances under which he was pitching.

"So, Sam are you going to rent a tuxedo for the wedding? Perhaps it would make more sense to buy one since you are going to be an usher in Melissa’s wedding as well?" Mom asked.

Sam seemed too involved with his food to give any consideration to the questions being asked of him. "Whatever you think is best Mom," he said as he bit into another piece of beef. I knew I loved him more than life itself. The fact that he was carrying my babies made the allure that much stronger. Yet sometimes, sometimes he gave me pause. He was smart, he was talented, he had a certain physical prowess, still, his overall grasp on reality didn’t seem to exceed his ability to fork up another mouthful of beef. Was I worrying needlessly?

Dinner ended and I cleared the table and did the dishes. I was getting spoiled by the variety and quality of the food that Aunt Melissa prepared on a daily basis. She should have her own restaurant. I wondered idly for a moment if she’d ever given that idea any consideration. For someone whose financial future seemed dubious at best, I was still filled with dreams of grandeur.

At least the cost of Sam’s pregnancy would be covered by Aunt Alice’s health insurance. There had been a bit of arguing with the service provider, but since Sam was a named insured, they decided to honor the contract. I didn’t even want to think about how expensive it would be to have babies without insurance.

I served up coffee to the ladies at the dinner table and begged Mom to take me to the fabric store when she was ready. If I was going to get married next weekend, we’d better get a move on. It seemed impossible. Could we really stage this entire thing in a week’s time? I reasoned that people eloped all the time with no plans whatsoever. Still, there wouldn’t be any time for formal wedding invitations or much else for that matter. Could I call my father and invite him up?

I considered that for a bit and decided that it would probably be best to tell him after the fact. Though he wasn’t handy in any sense of the word, he’d probably do his best to throw a wrench in the works. Besides, me in a wedding gown, getting married, and changing my last name to Sam’s own would probably be more than he could handle. I wished things were different. I wished my father could be there for me. Still, asking him to give the bride away would probably give him a heart attack.

"Well Joan, do you want to go pick out a pattern for your gown, or don’t you?" Mom asked, shaking me out of my reverie. I smiled broadly and grabbed my purse. The three of us "ladies" piled into Mom’s car and we drove off to Fabricland. Sam absolutely refused to come with us. Said he was going to watch some television and turn in early. I made him promise me that we’d spend tomorrow night together before we headed out the door.

I picked out a simple dress pattern. Though, it did have a veil, there would be no train trailing behind me. It was simplistically elegant.

"I guess you won’t be wearing white," Aunt Melissa said and laughed.

"What do you mean?" I started and then it hit me. "This is my wedding and I will too be wearing white!" I said and ran over to Mom who was already checking out the fabric selections. She found the perfect material; white satin and lace. I began to feel just a bit self-conscious about the whole thing. Mom held the material up against my tanned body and told me it would make the prettiest gown imaginable. I hugged her tight and then told her that I’d need a pair of white patent leather pumps. She laughed in reply and promised that we’d get them.

We finished our shopping and headed on home. The ladies seemed pleased with my selections. I felt as if I was living in a dream. Mom assured me that the dress would be ready for my wedding a week from Sunday. She had another surprise for me. It seemed the mayor, Marcia White, had stopped in the library during the afternoon and Mom asked her if she would preside over the ceremonies. This was all happening so fast!

The three of us gathered round the kitchen table. I served coffee and cake and sat down to join in on the planning. "Mom, I’ve got a question for you?" I began. She waited expectantly. "How come Grandma and Grandpa hardly ever come around? They only live about a hundred miles away." I stopped and waited.

Mom cast a furtive glance at Aunt Melissa. Her eyes seemed pleading. I could read that look, it said: "should I tell her?" Mom sighed aloud and began. "Joan, the main reason we’ve not seen much of my parents over the years is that they had no use for your father. There were words between your Dad and mine on our wedding day. I’ve only seen them twice in the last fifteen years though your grandmother writes to me quite often. Maybe now would be a good time to mend fences?"

Yes, I had grandparents that I wouldn’t recognize in a crowd of six. Maybe they forgot I was a boy named John and would simply accept me as their granddaughter? I couldn’t figure out why I felt this need to have everyone like me, love me. "Invite them to the wedding next Sunday," I begged Mom.

She looked at me as if she wanted to comply, but wasn’t sure that she could. "Don’t worry Joan, I’ll take care of it," Aunt Melissa said. For a moment I forgot that they were her parents too. It was getting late and I did have chores and band practice tomorrow so, I bade everyone goodnight.

I fell asleep envisioning myself in my bridal gown with Sam standing straight and tall beside me wearing a tuxedo. It was an idyllic image. I truly was the luckiest girl in the world.

Saturday morning I was the first to awaken and began doing my chores immediately. While the first load of laundry cooked, I scrubbed and mopped the kitchen floor. It was still too early to make noise with the lawn mower. I boxed myself in with the mop and headed back down to the basement to start another load. Damn, I felt special that morning.

I thought about getting information on sperm banks. I wanted to get that taken care of before I started mega-dosing with the hormones. Maybe Sam would want more children someday? The only thing that made me feel sad was the realization that my wedding gown would be stuffed with breast forms instead of "just me." I wore the things all the time anymore as if they were just another necessary article of clothing. In fact, I felt kind of naked when I removed them. It was a weird feeling for sure. Still, I’d be happy to have them gone.

Eight o’clock finally arrived and I headed outside to mow the lawns; yes, lawns. Sam was going to get the summer off from that particular chore. I hoped he appreciated it. I did all the trimming and weed-whacking as well. It was after ten by the time I was finished. I felt good! I ran in the house and took a cold shower. Cold showers always hit the spot on hot summer days.

When I was finished I heard faint stirrings coming from the bedrooms, so I headed back to the kitchen and began preparing a big breakfast. A breakfast of massive proportions! Home fries, french toast, pancakes, eggs, sausages, bacon, you name it, I cooked it. I called Sam up and invited him over, but he told me he never ate a big breakfast on a day that he pitched. Damn, and I wanted to show him just what he had to look forward to every morning for the rest of his life.

I took a frying pan and a table spoon and marched upstairs into the hallway. I began banging and clanging away for the sleepyheads to get their sorry behinds out of bed. I wasn’t serving breakfast in bed. There was simply too much to choose from. Aunt Melissa was the first to arrive on the scene. She had a healthy love of food. I was amazed that she managed to stay in such great shape given her appetite.

She sat down at the table and I served her a cup of coffee. Mom, a bit groggily, followed closely behind. I laid the feast out and sat down to join them. The sisters seemed to have their own non-verbal form of communication. It was almost spooky to watch. "So, have you decided who you’re going to invite to your wedding?" Mom asked me. Aside from Darla, Aunt Vivian, and Sally, there was no one in particular I wanted to invite. I thought for a moment maybe Mr. Ferris, or Mr. Hospin? Nah, they weren’t really friends, more like business acquaintances.

"It has to be a small affair Mom. I can’t afford anything else! Maybe I can get Fred to be the DJ?" Mom smiled appreciatively at my practical attitude.

"Well, generally the bride’s family gets stuck with the bill," Aunt Melissa said and laughed. I began to wonder just whom Sam was going to invite? Best not to dwell on that. I didn’t really know who his friends were anymore. Hell, in the past I could have counted them on one finger: Sam’s friends? ME! Things were hardly that simple any more. I hoped that was a good thing.

Aunt Melissa attempted to clean up after gorging herself on my many offerings. I insisted that she remain seated and did the clean up myself. Funny, Mom never needed any encouragement in that regard. Had Mom done what she’d done for me, or for herself? I guessed that the answer lay somewhere in the middle as I put the final pots and pans away.

"Well ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and practice for a bit. I do have band practice in a couple of hours," I said as I walked off somewhat haughtily. I spent little time practicing the guitar. I could handle just about any rhythm responsibilities. As far as the bass was concerned, I was a babe in the woods. I began practicing scales on it as I’d taught myself on the guitar. The strings were thicker and tougher. Some serious calluses were going to be required.

Darla actually called me and asked if I could supply us with transportation over to Fred’s. I went and asked Mom if she could take us. She said that she’d love to. She wanted to meet this new boy that was my friend. Thankfully, she didn’t refer to him as my "boyfriend."

I put my bass and my Martin in the car and told Mom it was time to go. Aunt Melissa not wanting to miss out on the excitement either, joined Mom in the front seat of the car. They talked excitedly about the weddings as we made our way first to Darla’s and then to Fred’s.

Fred, as always, was waiting at the front door for us. I turned a few shades of crimson as I explained to him that my mother wanted to meet him. He laughed with the air of an aristocrat and walked out to Mom’s car and introduced himself. Both Mom and Aunt Melissa were quite taken with his good looks and his demeanor. "Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll take good care of your daughter," he said as he bade them goodbye.

"My Mom will be here to pick us up in three hours," Darla said "so we’d better get started," We went over the five songs that we’d already perfected and then Fred had us working on some simple 1 - 4 - 5 progression rock songs. He called them filler tunes.

"You guys may not realize it, but we already have enough material for an hour’s set," he said with serious optimism. I was a little reluctant to appear in public with less than ample material. Darla was ready to play anywhere, anytime. I found myself wishing that I felt as "at ease" as those two did.

"Fred, I’ve got a favor to ask of you?" I began. "I’m getting married next Sunday and I was wondering if you’d be the DJ at my wedding?" I finished.

"You’re WHAT!?" screamed Darla.

"Oh, and Darla, I was hoping you’d be my maid of honor?" Perhaps this hadn’t been the time or place to ask them these very personal questions. I felt a bit guilty as the silence continued. "Guys?" I asked hopefully. Darla spoke first.

"Joan, you have to know that I’d do anything for you," she said sadly. I began to wonder if her feelings for me were simply platonic. Fred’s response was similar to Darla’s. Was I some kind of tease and didn’t even know it?

"Joan, I’d be honored to supply the music on your special day. Just tell me where and when and I’ll see to it that it’s handled properly," he said in a professional tone. I felt extremely strange under the circumstances. I began to wonder if my feelings for Fred ran deeper than simple friendship. Everything was just happening so damned fast!

We practiced for another hour after my announcement. Fred joked that we wouldn’t be taking any jobs next weekend. He then asked me something that I’d not even considered. Where was I going on my honeymoon?

Hell, I was fourteen years old. This was a marriage of necessity (sort of). I’d never given any thought to going away with Sam. Would our parents even allow such a thing? The mere suggestion made me realize how far over my head I was getting. I couldn’t back out now. I knew that if I even suggested the idea to Sam that we just slow down "she’d" be running off to the abortionist. The twins were the most important thing in my life. They always would be.

"I don’t think we’ll be honeymooning anytime soon Fred," I responded. Darla wore the same confused look that I did. We were way out of our depth. Water wings weren’t going to do any good in the choppy seas ahead. "Sam still has the rest of his baseball season. He’s the best pitcher in the league, don’t ya know?" I finished.

Fred made some derisive sounds but nothing that I could discern. Was he making fun of me? It had probably been a mistake to ask him to DJ the reception. Reception: what a joke. A last minute impromptu backyard affair with god knows who attending. Was this what I wanted for my wedding day? Usually thoughts such as these would have me in tears. This day, I simply felt numb.

Aunt Vivian arrived and we made plans to practice again on Wednesday before saying goodbye. The band, at least, was coming along quite nicely. Fred had so much nice stuff. Every time I was in his basement I found myself scheming to purchase another of his cast-offs.

"Mom, I’m going to be maid of honor for Joan!" She squealed with delight.

"Oh, and when’s the happy day?" Aunt Viv asked. I wasn’t sure why, but sometimes her questions exuded sarcasm. Was she making a statement? Trying to awaken me from my dream? I knew then that the sooner the wedding took place, the better. If I had too much time to think about it, I’d probably be the proverbial "runaway bride."

‘We’re getting married a week from tomorrow. There’s going to be a small gathering at our house. I hope you can come?" I looked at her pleadingly. Her eyes softened and she told me that of course she’d be there.

Darla and I hugged goodbye. I told her I’d call her tomorrow night so we could discuss plans for the upcoming insanity. I was far too young to be this cynical. I went inside and wonder of wonders no one was cooking in the kitchen. I’d done my share of cooking for the day, so if no one else wanted to, I’d simply grab a bite later on the boardwalk.

I wasn’t home fifteen minutes when Sam called. We were finally going to spend a Saturday night together. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d done that. He asked me if I wanted a steak. Said he was ready to redeem his free dinner coupons he’d won at the ballpark. I told him that it sounded perfect and would see him when he got here in about an hour. He didn’t even mention the game. I began worrying that he hadn’t had a good one. How could I have forgotten to ask?

Mom tried to coral me and enlist my help on the wedding dress, but I told her I had more important things to do that evening. She actually told me she understood and that we could work on it tomorrow. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I had two painting jobs lined up for tomorrow. Hell, we needed all the money we could get. Besides it might make more sense to make my gown out of a certain set of bed linens tucked away in the back of my closet. I smiled at that thought and… maybe I would make something for the babies out of those sheets.

I checked myself out in the bathroom mirror. My makeup needed just a bit of a touchup. My own face looked like a stranger’s to me. Who was this person staring back at me from the glass? Unusual for me, I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by life. Everything was moving too fast. I wished I could just fill my backpack with clothes and head for the hills somewhere. Leave everything and everyone behind; just go. Aunt Vivian better allow me the opportunity to express myself next week, I really needed to vent to someone who might understand.

I went downstairs into the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea; a highly unusual act for me. I sat at the table, drank my tea and had a smoke. There’d be no smoking around Sam and the twins this evening. He came over wearing a huge smile and carrying a single rose. I hugged him like my life depended on it. "Did you win baby?" I asked as I pressed my head tight against his chest.

He smiled and replied, "what do you think?" Ah, he was getting cocky in his old age. I put my rose in a small vase and realized I had no place left to call my own to put it on. It’s funny, Aunt Melissa had been here for over two weeks and I was just figuring this out now. Why was I feeling so cranky? I left the rose on the middle of the kitchen table, said goodbye to Mom and Auntie M and we began the long walk to Sheerborn’s Steakhouse.

"You know Sam, I worry about you a lot more than I used to every time I know you’re out there playing ball. I know it sounds crazy, and the Doctor said it was safe for you to play, but I just worry."

"There’s no need to worry Joan. Didn’t I tell you I now have a personal physician? (he laughed) Dr. Feingold comes to all of my games. We spoke for a bit when the game ended." I wasn’t so sure I liked that idea. Would she try to talk Sam into terminating the pregnancy? He looked at me as if he could read my mind. "Don’t worry sweetheart, she just suggested the best way for me to care for the twins at this early stage." I heaved a sigh of relief.

I was so glad I wore my blue pleated skirt this evening. The warm wind felt perfect as it gently kissed the lower half of my body. When I found the time, I was going to make a few more of them for myself. We arrived at the Steakhouse and Sam proudly presented the coupons to the hostess. She eyed him dubiously. It took me a moment before I realized that Sam had accomplished something that only two others had in the history of the billboard: won a free dinner for two.

We took our seats at an intimate table for two and Sam held my hands across the table. "Are you happy sweetheart?" Was my anxiety about the upcoming events showing? I considered his words carefully. A very simple question on the surface: was I happy?

"Yes Sam! I’m really and truly happy," I said and realized that all things considered, I was. "I really wish I could invite Doreen up for our wedding though," I continued. It took him a moment before he remembered just who she was. He looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. "Sam, she’s carrying my sister! My sister will be here in just a few short months! I’m sure Doreen would be thrilled about us. But, there’s no way I can tell her; at least not at this point." I sat there and stared sadly at the little red candle burning in the center of the table.

"It probably wouldn’t be a good idea telling your Dad until it’s all over," he said. I knew he was right. I’d arrived at that same conclusion myself recently. All in all, that was part of what was making me sad. Part of the rain on my parade. I smiled up at him wanly and squeezed his hands a bit tighter.

"So, Sam darling, where are we going on our honeymoon?" I asked and giggled. His draw dropped. Like myself, he hadn’t given the idea any thought either. What else weren’t we considering here? My own jaw dropped when he looked deep into my eyes and told me it was all taken care of and that it was going to be a surprise. I couldn’t help myself, I got up and walked around the table and hugged him for all I was worth.

"Thank you Sam," I whispered. He looked up at me uncertainly as he presented me with a small jewelry box. It seemed he was full of surprises this evening. He came across to my side of the table, went down on his right knee, looked me in the eyes while holding the box out proudly and whispered "Joan, will you marry me?"

I was totally unprepared for this. The tears began flowing as my heart filled with joy. He knew all the right buttons to push. This wasn’t a mistake, a marriage of necessity; this was the real deal. A once in a lifetime opportunity.

"Yes Sam, Oh, YES!" I exclaimed as he slid the ring on my finger. It was a perfect match to my wedding band. While the diamond was very modest in size, it symbolized the greatest love the world had ever known…