Tag Archives: proposal

2289. The marriage proposal

Desiree had thought about this moment for years. She had imagined it over and over. And now the time had come. In fact the moment had come and gone. It was nothing like she had imagined.

She had always wondered what the circumstances of a marriage proposal would be. Would it be over a romantic candlelight dinner? Would it be in a garden full of flowers and birdsong? Would it be in an orchard with bright red apples shining against a blue sky? Would it be…?

Then she met Liam. Her dreams intensified. She knew Liam was to be the one. He was such a romantic too. Whatever scheme he was to invent in order to propose marriage it was destined to be exotic and quixotic. And now the moment had come!

Liam was driving his old truck to pick up some garden compost from the Garden Centre for his parents. Desiree tagged along too as she often did. Then out of the blue Liam said, “I suppose we should get married” and Desiree said, “I ‘spose so”.

And that was it. It was perfect.

2285. The crooked Christmas tree

Nothing riled Nora more than Jonathan putting up the artificial Christmas tree crooked. Year after year it would be crooked; just on a slight angle; not much mind you, but just enough for Nora to notice it every time she passed. The tree would go up on Thanksgiving.

The glittering baubles hung on a small but observable angle. Each year Nora would wait for Jonathan to leave the house and no sooner had he gone than she would crawl underneath the tree with a small plastic clothes peg and poke it in the Christmas tree stand against the trunk to make the tree perfectly upright.

Then when she went out herself she would return only to find the peg had gone. It had been taken out and the tree was once again on the tiniest angle. Nora knew exactly what she would get Jonathan for Christmas; something he seemed to want so much: some clothes pegs from the dollar shop.

This ritual had gone on for years. In fact, it had become a Thanksgiving Day tradition. I forgot to mention that Nora and Jonathan were next door neighbours – I suppose you thought they were wife and husband. They had been neighbours for over forty years, and both widowed for about ten. Thanksgiving was a time for them to help each other put up the Christmas decorations. Then as the evening approached – they always observed the day in the evening – their respective families would arrive in each household for the celebration.

This year however it was going to be different. Both families were meeting at Nora’s house to celebrate an accepted marriage proposal.

Happy Thanksgiving to my USA readers and their families – and anyone else who happens to be thankful!

2191. Full moon

There was to be a full moon this coming Saturday. Monica knew that Crispin would propose. He was such a dyed-in-the-wool romantic. He loved the full moon, the stars, the night sky. In fact, Monica was so convinced he would propose that she changed her mind three times as to what she would wear.

The day arrived! The evening arrived!

“Let’s not go to a film or a concert tonight,” suggested Crispin. “There’s to be a full moon so let’s go to the park and wander around the duck pond as the moon rises.”

Monica was so glad she had opted to wear sensible shoes instead of the high heels she had initially planned.

Together they sat on a park bench at the duck pond. The moon rose. The evening was as clear as a bell. Monica sighed. It was a heavenly sigh of happiness and expectation. The moon had fully risen.

“Let’s go get a coffee,” suggested Crispin.

2064. If tomorrow…

– If this year was a leap year then tomorrow would be a leap day.

– But it’s not a leap year so tomorrow’s not a leap day.

– I never said it was. I just said if this year was a leap year then tomorrow would be a leap day.

– I heard you the first time. And it’s not a leap day tomorrow.

– I read where women can propose marriage on a leap day.

– I don’t know if that’s true.

– I just said it was. Don’t you believe me?

– I simply said I didn’t know if it was true or not.

–  It’s always the same. You don’t believe a single thing I say. You don’t believe anything unless you read it yourself. You’ll believe anyone blabbing on in social media before you believe anything I say.

– That’s probably not true.

– Anyway don’t expect me to propose tomorrow because even though women can propose on a leap day I have no intention of doing that.

– Tomorrow’s not a leap day. It’s not a leap year. I’m not expecting a proposal.

– Oh God! You’re so unreasonable.

1945. The case of the mysterious proposal

When Anita got to the last sip of her tea at the rather sophisticated afternoon tea-party there was an engagement ring at the bottom of her cup. Her first thought was “I was lucky not to have swallowed all those diamonds”. Then she wondered whose ring may have slipped off as they drank tea and she had picked up the wrong cup. And then she wondered, “I wonder if this ring was meant for me? I have dated two of the men here but I doubt that either was serious enough.”

She glanced around. No one seemed to be watching her. No one seemed to be waiting for a “Yes!” No one seemed to be anticipating a surreptitious shriek of excitement to escape her cherry red lips.

If the proposal was real it would be so banal to simply say, “Hey! Look what I found!” She would spend an entire marriage living with the dullness of having not looked pleased at the marriage proposal.

George came over to her. He was undoubtedly the handsomest man there – or so Anita thought – although he wasn’t one of the two that Anita had been out on dates with.

“How’s it going?” said George.

“Good,” said Anita. “And how are you?”

“Good,” said George. “Would you like another cup of tea?”

“I’d love one,” said Anita.

George took Anita’s cup and saucer and headed for the table with the teapot. He returned.

“Thank you so much,” said Anita. George moved further around the room.

Needless to say, Anita was rather keen to get to the bottom of her cup. Was the ring still there? She was halfway through sips of her too, too hot tea when Berwyn began squealing in the far corner of the room.

“Oh George! Oh yes! Yes! Yes! Oh Georgie darling! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

1744. Toast for breakfast

Archie’s morning was always the same. It’s not that his life was regimented; it’s just that anything prior to nine in the morning, roughly the time when he awoke from his post-rising stupor, was done by rote. He would get out of bed; get partially dressed; turn on the coffee machine; feed the cat; check the news on his laptop; pour the coffee; put on some toast; and begin to have breakfast.

While he was eating his toast, always with raspberry jam, he would read the blogs he followed. There was one blogger who annoyed the hell out of him. The blogger was always killing people off. Every day it would be another story and another dead person. Sometimes death by poisoning, sometimes strangulation. Why couldn’t he write a happy story for a change? Nonetheless, Archie couldn’t help but sneak a peek every morning as he ate his toast. Possibly Archie, every morning, was hoping for something happy to happen in one of the stories. And would you believe…?

This day was sheer happiness! Freddy had fallen in love with Leonie at the school picnic. They were teachers at the school, not pupils. They had dated for several months and then Freddy proposed to Leonie. It was quite out of the blue.

“Yes! Yes!” said Leonie, beside herself with gladness. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” They kissed! They planned their wedding day! Oh happy day! Oh happy, happy day!

Archie, having breakfast, was beside himself with excitement. A cheerful story! For once something jubilant happens in this blog he followed daily! Oh happy day! Oh happy day indeed! To celebrate, Archie took a great big bite of the slice of toast he was eating.

He choked on it, and now he’s dead.

1605. Franklyn’s tiny tattoo

Franklyn had what seemed like a tiny tattoo between his thumb and forefinger on his left hand. It was more of a little scratch than a design. No one had really noticed it, except for Barbara. She’d asked Franklyn about it and he said that indeed it was a scratch. He’d been cleaning the wood burner, scratched his hand, and when the tiny wound healed it entrapped a bit of soot. Hence the tattoo.

Barbara had jokingly said that she never would have believed she’d fall in love with a man with a tattoo! And now she was invited to Franklyn’s twenty-fifth birthday party, and Barbara sensed that this was to be the big day. He would “pop the question”.

At the party there were quite a few familiar faces, and quite a few friends of Franklyn that she had never met before. Barbara moved through the room, introducing herself and, in fact, charming many. It was then she noticed something strange. Franklyn was not the only one with a tiny tattoo between his thumb and forefinger. Rick had one, as did Dave. Barbara quietly observed. In the end she counted eight guests, all males, with the tiny tattoo.

She asked Franklyn about it. That night, Barbara died in her sleep.

Bloody aliens.

1571. An organized proposal

Adrian and Alan had been in a same-sex relationship for just over three years. Adrian decided it was time to propose. It wasn’t quite clear in such a relationship as to who should do the proposing, but Adrian decided he had waited long enough and so took the matter into his own hands. It was to be a special occasion.

Adrian planned every second of the event. Really, it was all rather exciting! First they would go to the go-cart track (they loved doing that, it was how they met), hire a go-cart each, and race around for half an hour or so to determine who was the superior go-cart driver.

Next, they would go for a wander through the botanical gardens. It was the tulip season and every year they had celebrated tulips by strolling through the gardens at the very peak of flowering. In fact, they so loved the tulip celebration that they had selected two tulips as a symbol of their relationship and had devised a monogram to go on their front door.

After the tulips they would go to a fancy restaurant; not too fancy mind you, because they weren’t exactly made of money, but fancy enough to make things special. They both especially liked “The Plucked Auk” – which ironically never had auk on the menu. Not to worry. Both would inevitably order a hearty steak, rare, in fact, blue.

Finally they would wander down to the estuary and stroll along the winding river path in the evening light. The stars! The moon! It would be then that Adrian would propose. Let’s hope the weather was fine. The forecast said it would be.

Adrian announced to Alan, it being some not particularly important anniversary of something or rather, that he had planned a special afternoon and evening. Such regular celebrations had always been part of their living together.

Well! Would you believe? They were about to leave home when Alan went down on one knee, produced a ring, and said to Adrian, “Will you marry me?”

Some people know how to stuff things up.

1549. Down on one knee

(The closing sentence for this story was suggested by Terry of ARANEUS1. If you want to join in the fun of suggesting a future closing sentence for these stories, click here for a peek as to what’s what.)

I’d put it off for long enough. Leonie-Lee was my life and light. We had been dating now for three years. It was time to propose marriage, but to be honest, what if she said “No”? The possibility of a “No” – no matter how improbable it was in reality – had always come in the way of proposing. I wish she’d taken advantage of that quirky thing (I believe it’s the case) and proposed to me herself last Leap Day.

I caught the number 12 tram. It stops almost outside my house. There’s no need to walk far except down the garden path. In fact, when it rains, I simply wait in my porch and when the number 12 tram approaches I dash out and board the tram raincoat-less and umbrella-less. Crossing the road can be a bother, but there’s a place for pedestrians to cross, although these days who can trust the road-raging drivers? Of course, I carry my coat and umbrella, because when I reach the tram stop where I alight I still have to walk a good half hour to arrive at Leonie-Lee’s house.

I had the engagement ring and everything. In fact I’ve been so excited about this decision that I haven’t slept for two days. Not the briefest forty winks.

When I got off the number 12 tram the sun was shining. The day couldn’t have been more pleasant if I’d planned it myself. I practically skipped my way to Leonie-Lee’s. This was to be the happiest day of my life thus far.

Anyway… that was a couple of hours ago. Leonie-Lee said… well… it doesn’t matter. Same as last time. Afterwards, I headed straight for home. As I stepped off the number 12 tram, dodging impatient traffic, it started to rain.

1494. Punting on the river

Fintan knew the time had come for him to propose marriage to Angela. What was holding him up? He wanted to propose creatively. He wanted it to be memorable. He wanted it to be both romantic and different.

He suggested to Angela that they hire a punt on the river. The river was deep and slow and picturesque. They would take a picnic lunch and pull over to the side, perhaps under a weeping willow. And then either before or after lunch, when all seemed most idyllic, he would propose. Of course, Fintan made a few trial runs in a hired punt secretly. He wanted to know how best to guide the boat, and best where to go.

It was a beautiful summer’s day. Birds sang. A fish jumped up out of the water just as their punt passed by. It was as if it was dancing for the joy of the occasion. A mother duck protected her batch of newly hatched ducklings. How wonderful! At one stage, quite by accident, some sad, winsome, romantic oboe music wafted from a manor beyond the expansive lawn on the river bank. This would be the moment, the perfect moment to propose.

Fintan went down on one knee. “Angela,” he said, “will you marry me?” Fintan’s change in posture unbalanced the punt. Angela didn’t even have time to say “Yes!” before the boat toppled over and they drowned.