Thursday, August 26, 2010

Happy Anniversary To My Beautiful Wife

He’d seen men he admired look suddenly vulnerable many times before. He watched the poor saps turn from cool, confident ladies’ men into nervous, pant leg twisting, stuttering children when faced with the moment of truth.

The first time he could remember watching it happen was between his parents. His normally stoic, nearly aloof father would sense his mother was distressed, in need of his help. He would change then from a tall proud figure to a crouching, sensitive gentleman. He went instantly from husband, father, working man to her friend and, though he was too young to understand it at the time, her lover.

He had watched his bothers court each of their respective spouses. These rough men who would fight with him growing up, holding him down and spitting in his mouth, playing football with anger and intensity through high school, one working each day with steel and iron, the other standing guard at a prison, prepared to deal with men who would do him harm at any moment given the chance. Inviting their soon-to-be-fiancés to family holidays saw them walking around the house as he had never seen them before. They were worried that every little thing was just right, wondering if she needed more punch or if she felt included in the conversation. He watched each propose to his future wife in front of the entire family with a hope and desperation in their eyes that screamed, “Please say yes.”

He had even seen this is the bars with his friends. Not when they were looking to pass the time for the night, just to have some fun, but in the situations when a girl they’d known for some time showed up. The kind of girl they’d always had feelings for. At those times, the hand that would normally lean on the bar went into the pocket. The head that would tilt and nod in suggestion would stiffen and lock in place. Replacing the look in their eyes of the predator looking to take them home at the end of the night was one of a scavenger, just hoping that the woman of interest might smile at them.

And in each of these moments, he could see their heart presented, ready to break or burst with excitement, either way never to be the same. Each time, the man put himself out there and each time it was up to the woman what his fate would be.

But as many times as he had watched it, Peter had never imagined himself going through this.

As romantic comedy touching as it was to witness those around him sacrifice their pride and place their own innards on a platter for the acceptance of another, he saw nothing of himself in the image. When Peter looked in the mirror, he saw an independent, viral man who flew by the seat of his pants. He was the Hollywood stereotype bachelor, in his own mind at least. No connections. Nothing tying him down. He allowed nothing into his life that he couldn’t immediately drop if he felt the heat around the corner. He was the loose cannon cop who didn’t play by the rules and had nothing to lose.

Peter wasn’t a cop, he was an electrician. But, he was convinced that if he were a cop, this was the kind of cop he would be. He was also convinced he would kick ass and take names, because that was the Chicago way.

Peter didn’t live in Chicago. He lived in Des Moines.

All metaphors aside, Peter’s self-image changed when he met Jane. The tough, unfeeling, no-nonsense guy who busted his friends’ balls when they fell over a girl (or broad as his Hollywood alter-ego would have surely called them) found himself the same stammering, staying in and watching a movie schmuck that he’d seen all the others turn into.

Yet even through the little things, the lunches together, the weekends on double dates instead of with the guys, the holding of her purse while she tried on that cute blouse she saw in the window, he still imagined himself ready to walk away at any time should she become too stifling.

Once, as he looked down at the pink, leathery thing he held by the straps while Jane tried on a skirt, Peter wondered if it was possible to feel his manhood stifled by her if this wasn’t doing it. He told himself he must be secure enough in his manhood to hold a purse because if she should ever stifle him, he would know it when it happened and bolt.

But bolting wasn’t on his mind when Peter found himself shopping for a ring. Nor was it on his mind when he made the subtle suggestion that they go away for a weekend together. And it definitely was not on his mind as he went repeatedly over the details of how he would propose once he had her alone, in direct contrast to the public spectacles his brothers had made when they proposed to their wives.

In fact, never during the entire weekend in the quiet little town did it occur to him that he might want to run in the other direction or that he might look anything like the men he’d seen offer themselves up to the women they loved, sacrificing their public image. Not while they went antiquing. Not while they were horseback riding. Not even as he overpaid for a “gourmet” dinner on an old rickety wooden porch at some old, supposedly famous, restaurant.

No, not until the very moment of truth did Peter see the parallel between what he was doing and what they had done. Not until he had rounded the corner on the walking path, ensured they were alone and determined that the sunset looked as beautiful as it was ever to get that evening, did Peter realize that, as he bent to one knee and took the small velvet box from his pocket, he was offering his heart to the woman standing before him with her hands already over her mouth and tears already in her eyes.

And it was at that very moment, after he had asked his question but before Jane had responded, when it came to Peter that all those other men who he had admired knew exactly what they had been getting into. None of them were blind to the consequences. They all knew that whether the answer was “yes” or “no,” they would never be the same. And not a single one of them had cared.

Peter found he didn’t care either. He felt he was more of a man than ever, just having asked Jane to marry him because he knew he was going after something that he really wanted. As he pictured their lives together in the eternity it took her to answer, he knew he loved her and would work the rest of the details out later. This had to come first.

And he had even decided all this before she said yes.

Which she did.

No comments:

Post a Comment