Jeremy made reservations at La Crème, the place where our very first date took place four years ago. For months he’s been dropping hints about how he has to ‘look to his future’ and ‘get that promotion’. He’s going to propose, I know it in my bones. It’s only logical. What shows more willingness for responsibility than marriage, a white picket fence, and kids?
I can barely stand it.
I closed the diary and hugged it to my chest. Unable to contain my excitement I jumped off the bed and ran to my closet. Only the very best would do as it wasn’t every day a girl became engaged. Clothes were raked back and forth across the rail, my despair mounting as outfit after outfit was discarded. Too frilly, too young, too drab, too homespun.
I had nothing to wear.
“Good gravy, Kristen. Are you purging your closet?” Grandma Joy paused in the doorway to my room. “I can barely see your bed.”
“No Grams. I’m trying to find something to wear Friday night.”
“After four years, I think he’s seen everything.” Grams said with a shake of her head and dropped fresh linen at the end of my bed. “What’s wrong with that nice dress you wore to Ruthie’s wedding?”
“Grams,” I rolled my eyes and pushed aside a beige top, followed by a brown sweater and shuddered. What was I thinking when I bought these blah, boring clothes? “That was over two years ago and this night is special. I need something with a wow factor of ten.”
“I don’t know why you think you have to change who you are for that boy…” Grams let the sentence hang, her displeasure evident by her tone of voice. “You looked beautiful in that dress.”
I cast a glance over my shoulder and noted Grams stood with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed in frustration.
“Thanks, Grams, but I think you’re biased.” As always, my heart tugged at her words. Grams raised me from the time I was born. My mom and dad died in a car accident when I was only a few months old.
“Well, it’s the truth,” she said as she walked out of my room. “He should be thankful for what he already has in you. Don’t be too long, dinner is in ten minutes.”
“I’ll be right down,” I promised and continued shoving clothes back and forth.
My imagination reached a fever pitch and as I ate I practiced my new name, Kristen Elaine Wainwright-Danvers. Hmmm…maybe I wouldn’t hyphenate it. Kristen Elaine Danvers had a nice flow.
Hello, have you met my husband, Jeremy Danvers? And he would say with pride, this is my wife, Kristen.
Visions of intertwined initials on the wedding train filled my head - J & K. I’d have day lilies in my bouquet, the bridesmaids would wear something in soft pink and Jeremy and his groomsmen would be handsome in deep blue tuxes. We’d dance our first dance while friends blew bubbles around us. Everything would look magical in our wedding videos.
Oh dear... we all know how that's going to turn out. Good thing for me, otherwise there would have been NO story! This all came about because of one line that kept running through my head. "I have a fabulous idea." Funny how one tiny phrase bears fruit in the form of a fun, romantic comedy.
Have a wonderful weekend, until then,