the man we call "the vault"

So, here's how it all went down (Julie and I were able to talk last night, so I'm able to share freely now).

The girls and I all crashed at Grace's on Friday night.  We met there around seven, so Justin and I made dinner together before I headed out.  As we're leaving, he tells me: "Don't hurry back or anything.  I'll probably uh, sleep in, and afterward, I'll get some chores done before heading out to your place."

I turned away, biting my lip to avoid laughing.  He doesn't sleep in.  And I doubted he'd be worried about chores first thing on a Saturday morning.  Beyond this, he's just not a very talented liar.  This honesty is a plus in most situations, a curse for him in this particular scenario.

I went to Grace's.  Kevin had come over from Seattle to hang out with the fam for the weekend, so after I left Grace's the next morning, I headed to my parent's place.  We're sitting there at the kitchen table drinking coffee and laughing as usual, when there's a knock at the door.

"That'd be Justin," I say, thinking that he'd stopped by the Little Blue House a quarter mile away and guessed where I'd be.

This is the moment where I was a little slow on the uptake.  Poor Justin had stopped by to ask my dad for his permission and blessing to marry me.  He was unfortunate on two counts.  One, my brother and I were there.  Two, my dad was working the weekend.

He played it off well.

Kevo and I and Justin went to the LBH and watched a triple feature (the temps were in the 95-degree range and Washington homes don't have A/C for the most part, so we were incapable of actual activity).  We later reappeared at my folks' house for a barbecue.

My mom, grandma and I were in the kitchen prepping some of the food.  Justin, boasting of his grilling skills, went out on the deck with my dad. 



So Justin asked my dad for his blessing, to which my dad's highly verbal response was, "Yeah, sure!  No problem."

Justin was thinking there might be a little more involved in the conversation, but, except for the few occasions where he is a man of too many words, my dad is often a man of few.

Relieved at having this very important task done, Justin reflected for a moment on how easy it had been, how well it had gone.  No sooner had he relaxed into the moment than I stepped out onto the deck.

And then the ax fell.  My dad, mid-burger flip on the grill, says to me: "I told him 'No.'  Heh heh heh heh heh."

Kevin, through clenched teeth: "Dad, shutup."

Dad, through loose lips: "Oh, heh heh.  SHHHHHHH."

Justin, in abject horror: speechless.

Me, in equally abject horror: "Unbelievable."

How can a guy recover from that?  Not too easily.  However, in my family, there are few things that aren't fodder for a good laugh, so the entire dinner was spent with all of us, Justin included, cracking jokes about what had happened, my dad looking quite sheepish.  Justin was careful to immediately pass on to my brother the wisdom of making sure to explicitly ask the girl's dad not to say ANYTHING when asking for his blessing.  I was deeply grateful for his ability to have a sense of humor about the whole thing.  (Luckily, the proposal was never going to be a total surprise, as we'd already been talking about getting married pretty much since we got together.  My response to the big question was never going to be "What?!  I had no idea this was coming!  I have no idea what to say!")

He didn't give up all attempts at suspense, however.  While taking a walk around sunset later that night, he stopped and said, "I was going to wait til later to say this, but... it's just so pretty right now."  After a pause for dramatic flair, he kissed me and told me that he loved me.  And then began walking again.  I, ever-so-smoothly, gave him no indication (and thus, no satisfaction) that anything was amiss.  No way would I let him know that he had me going for about three seconds.

Jerk.

He later told me that he had other such scenarios all planned out, just to keep me antsy.  Luckily for me, the ring was burning a hole in his pocket.  He said it was worse than being a kid in the grocery store candy aisle with a buck in hand.

Sunday morning, Justin showed up at my place with two mochas from Starbucks.  I was still in bed, and because of the bright and way-too-early sunlight, had sleeping shades over my eyes.  I didn't even take them off, I simply slid them up on my head, no doubt sending my already-messy hair into even more impressive directions.

He knelt down by my bed, and we talked for a few minutes.  He told me he loves me (nothing unusual here) and how happy I make him (nothing unusual here either -- I am one of those fortunate human beings who is told these things daily).  He then paused, and said, "You know, you'd look a whole lot better drinking that coffee if you had a ring on your finger."

He then pulled the ring out of his pocket and said, "Will you marry me?"

It was brilliant.  Didn't see it coming at 7:30 on a Sunday morning.

Then and there, sitting in bed with my hair a mess and sleep in my eyes, Justin kneeling beside me, I agreed to be his wife.

***

It's these Big Moments in life that we anticipate perfection.  We have a story written out in our head of how things will go -- what will happen, and how.  What often happens is so much different than the perfectly timed movie-like scenes that play out in our minds. 

However, these moments are not played out by actors and actresses, but by human beings.  They involve the unpredicable blurt-outs of a father excited for his daughter's at-last happiness.  They involve a family laughing over it all (and perhaps doing a bit of mocking and scoffing) for hours afterward.  They involve a proposal to me in my pajamas with my hair a mess and sleeping shades resting crookedly on top of my head.

These moments play our far differently than what you imagine in your head.  They are better and more beautiful and far more moving than you could ever anticipate.  They are real.  They are perfect.

***

Ten thirty a.m. Sunday morning, my phone rings.  My dad is calling from work.

Me: "Morning, dad."

Dad: "You two official yet?  Heh heh heh."