I Surprised Myself
Previously: The team takes the weekend to regroup. Jeannie does some cleaning up and Mark calls with news.
Need to catch up on The Spring? Visit the chapter index here:
6:21 PM Sunday, November 9, 2014
Lower Pacific Heights, San Francisco
Jeannie chopped a pile of de-stemmed kale leaves to add to the planned kale-romaine caesar salad for dinner. Somewhere in the magic of the new kitchen, some jazzy French music played lightly from concealed speakers. Chris had just brought in a London Broil from the grill out on the back deck and was ripping away some foil to tent it to rest.
“Are you making it garlicky?” He whispered, suddenly tickling Jeannie’s ear. She smiled, trying to focus on the garlic clove she was mashing into bits.
“Not really — probably more lemony.” He kissed her lightly on the neck and then went back to the steak. “I’m in a more acid mood, I guess.”
“Wow. Okay. Thanks for the warning.” Jeannie laughed a little, glancing at Chris who was rotating bottles in the pristine wine fridge, trying to find a suitable cabernet.
“So you prefer garlic breath then?”
“I’m okay with whatever you want.” He looked at her, eyebrows raised, now digging for a corkscrew. “I can handle garlic breath.” Jeannie chuckled a little and she went back to the pile of dark green leaves in front of her, the singer in the background going on about Paris in spring. She wondered where they’d both be next spring — next spring, when Orla and Brandon would be ready to have a baby. Mark’s baby had just arrived too, earlier that afternoon. He’d sent a photo to her and Paco of him holding baby Hannah with tears in his eyes. Jeannie felt the hope again — they hope she’d felt on Friday night that was just a whisper then but had been growing under her skin ever since.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d hoped for anything. Maybe it was hope that her mother wouldn’t die, but she knew the moment she’d thought of it that it was futile and it was just a matter of time. The only thing she’d ever really hoped for in her life had been Chris.
“Hey —” She began softly, not sure how to begin. Scooping up the chopped kale she fluffed them into the olive wood salad bowl with the chopped romaine that was already waiting. She glanced at Chris, who was just pouring wine into a pair of goblets on the counter.
“Hey.” Chris said automatically, focusing on the wine.
“Do you want to get married?” Jeannie set down the large steel chef’s knife as she said it, turning to look at him. She tilted her chin up and felt her eyes narrow slightly.
Chris righted the bottle of wine and set it on the counter slowly. He stood still for a long moment before turning around to look at her, wide-eyed. His lips formed the shape of a question a few times before he finally whispered, “Are you serious?”
“Well, I — “ Jeannie sighed. “I know I’m not the best proposition maybe, at this point, but…” she felt tears coming, but the bubble of a laugh came first. “Chris, I — I don’t want to waste any more time, you know? I’ve — we’ve already lost time. What’s the point in that? I mean, I’ve been putting off talking about it or making new plans because everything I wanted isn’t going to happen: my mother won’t be there, my father — I wanted him to marry us —” she pulled back a slight sob, “none of it’s going to be the way I want, but I want you. You’re the only thing I’ve ever really wanted, and I can’t get caught up in the things I don’t have any more and I need to focus on what I do have.” She exhaled deeply. Chris still hadn’t moved. “I just — um…I’d like to marry you.” She felt one of her shoulders rise in a half shrug. “I want our life together to begin — I can’t do anything but keep going forward as much as I’ve tried to go back. And the only way I want to go forward is with you.” She sniffed, giving him a wet smile as a tear finally spilled over. “Will you marry me? Please?”
Two steps across the kitchen and Chris was kissing her deeply. He stopped, leaning his brow against hers, trying to catch a breath.
“You always surprise the hell out of me— “ he whispered.
“I surprised myself.” She giggled. “This wasn’t planned, you know. I — I just —” Chris kissed her again. “It’s a yes or no, Chris.” She whispered, looking up into his deep blue eyes which were still stunned.
“It’s a yes.” He whispered back. “It’s always been a yes — I’ve been asking you for years, you know that.”
“Well, I have to be sure.” She bunched his sweater in her hands, pulling him closer, feeling herself smile — a real smile. It felt like her face was breaking open. “I guess it was Gigi —”
“Gigi?”
“She mentioned something about us coming in and getting wedding bands the other day — I don’t know. I didn’t think of it, but I guess I did.”
Chris looked down at her, his eyes shining. His signature, slow broad smile started to spread over his lips. “She didn’t mention an engagement ring?”
“No.” Jeannie tilted her head at him. “No — no she didn’t.” Her eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I have a ring. I’ve had it for a long time, I just — I just didn’t — “ Chris sighed.
“What is it?”
Chris backed up a step, holding her lightly at the elbows. “Your mom picked out the ring.” Now it was Jeannie’s turn to be stunned. “She — she knew she —” he broke off. “She wanted to pick out the ring.” He said finally, heaving a shaking breath. “She told me to get some designs, so Gigi did some sketches and she picked the design.”
Jeannie stared at him, unsure what to say.
“We went down there — she was really sick — “ Chris’ eyes flashed with worry. “It was just a few months before she died, but she timed it between her chemo days so she could do it. She got dressed up — she looked like Jackie O with her scarf and big glasses — and Gigi showed her all the stones and she was…she was very proud, Jeannie.”
Jeannie’s tears spilled over again, while she felt her heart was strangling her. Her mouth gaped like a fish, trying to piece all of this together.
“I — I’ve been worried that it would be sad for you — I don’t want it to be something that makes you sad. I want it to be something you’re thrilled about.” He tilted her chin up to meet his eyes again. “I — I didn’t know how —”
“Just show me the ring, Chris.” She sputtered out. He sighed and then nodded, walking to the hallway. Jeannie stood rooted on the spot, listening to him move into the living room where he slid open the antique roll-top desk that stood in the corner near the front hall. She always thought the desk was a cumbersome piece they didn’t need, but Chris loved it, so it stayed. He reemerged with a small square box in his hand. “It was in the roll-top this whole time?” She whispered. He gave her a nod, moving to stand in front of her.
“You hate that desk, so I knew it would be safe.” He smiled a little and popped open the box. Inside was the perfect ring: a simple round diamond with baguettes on the sides, set in platinum. It caught the light, bouncing rainbows in its little velvet cushion.
“It’s beautiful. Perfect.” Jeannie bit her lip, trying to contain the emotional swell that rose through her body. Chris set the box on the counter, pulling out the ring, offering it to her shaking hand. Resting at the base of her finger it looked like it had always been there. Only her mother could have known how right it would be for her. The smallest of squeals escaped her throat, before she burst out laughing.
“You like it?”
“Yes, of course.” She laughed. “It’s just — it’s — she knew what she was doing.” She reached up to kiss him long and slow.
“Well, I was planning something for Christmas, just so you know. It definitely didn’t involve the kitchen.” They both laughed. “So, what do you want to do? Church? Next spring?”
“That’s too long — I was thinking City Hall. Next week.”