I picked the evening before Christmas Eve as the time to propose to Leigh, seeing as how the following evening was traditionally a time for her family to enjoy each other's company, sitting by the fire and opening a Christmas present or two, and Leigh was excited that I would be able to join them this year. So, I shared my proposal date and idea with her sisters, and later with her mother and father over lunch out the Fountain View Cafe in which I also asked for permission (yes, Truett girls, I still asked for permission even though you all taught me that you are your own woman and a request for your hand should be addressed only to you and no one else).
On the 22nd, unbeknownst to Leigh, I drove to Waco to pick up the ring from a fine craftswoman who had taken my mother's stone and placed it on a vintage-style, white gold band. The following day, after a few hours at the office, I set to work preparing the night. While getting clothes and necessary materials together and putting the finishing touches on a special slideshow DVD, everything was going fine. It wasn't until I left my apartment that things seemed to go to hell. First of all, Houston's Restaurant, the place I had planned to take Leigh to dinner after the engagement (one of her favorites), informed me that they could not accommodate eight people anywhere in their establishment. This seemed ridiculous to me, but they showed me the puny table sizes and were very apologetic. So, with only about three hours before Leigh was to get off work (and there was a chance she may have been allowed to leave early), I frantically battled the heady west Houston traffic, searching for a nice enough restaurant that would not be crowded out that evening and unable to seat eight (the high number is explained farther down).
While Leigh's parents and my own parents (yes, they were secretly in town) made calls to several restaurants, I finally fought my way to Pappadeaux Seafood Restaurant off of I-10. The manager was very gracious, to my weary relief, and not only promised to seat an incomplete party of six when they showed up, but even made a reservation for the eight of us even though the time was only a few hours away.
Able to breathe again, I took my filthy Jeep through a car wash despite the rainy weather, and then vacuumed it out. Though I was almost an hour behind schedule (and had not eaten anything all day), I had given myself a buffer in case Leigh should get off early. I arrived at Leigh's parent's house, unloaded my materials, and then parked my car around the block where she would not pass it. My parents and Leigh's parents were waiting for me, and I was able to talk with them and calm my racing pulse and breath. Shirley, Leigh's mother, informed me that she had convinced Leigh to swing by the house on her way home from work, even though Leigh believed I was coming to her apartment to pick her up for a Christmas date. Shirley had made up some suspiciously elaborate ruse regarding the need for Leigh's opinion on a Christmas present for her twin sister that her parent's had purchased but about which they now had doubts. Leigh had called me earlier, frustrated at her mother's insistence, but I assured her we were in no rush, so she should go by their house after work. Unfortunately, in an attempt to fortify the ruse, I unwisely told her to call me when she was leaving her parent's house, not when she got off work as was her usual routine.
While preparing little clue cards that I planned to place at either entry door of the house, with a trail of Dublin Dr Pepper bottles I acquired from Waco (the significance of these comes from the first gift I gave her the day I first drove down to meet her in person), I made sure everyone was on the same page regarding the restaurant. Her parents, two sisters, and my parents would arrive first, be seated, order appetizers, and await our arrival, ready to surprise Leigh as celebratory guests to our engagement dinner. As I finished the cards that would lead her from either the front or back door - whichever one she chose - to the living room coffee table note, I glanced at the clock. It was only 6:50, which meant Leigh should only now be giving her reports in the Labor & Delivery ward at St. Joseph's Hospital downtown, and was still a good half hour away at the earliest. I decided to use the guest bathroom and clean-up a bit, washing my face, styling my hair, brushing my teeth, etc.
And the the phone call came...
Shirley answered the phone, and we assumed it was Leigh calling to tell her mother that she was getting off work and would be there in about thirty minutes. Shirley spoke quickly and then told her to come on, that she was waiting for her. Then she frantically hung up the phone and called out, "She's at Dairy Ashford and I-10 people! We gotta go!"
My parents leaped from their comfortable seats, and I yelled from upstairs, "Go, go, go!" Thinking quickly, they reversed the plan and my parents, instead of hiding their car, volunteered to drive to Leigh's older sister, Stephanie's, house, since she would never be able to make it over to us in time to drive everyone to the restaurant, as was the original plan. My mother quickly placed the Dr Pepper bottles outside for me, then they wished me luck and sped away.
Realizing Leigh was only about seven minutes away and getting closer by the second, in a blur I dried my face, crammed on my shoes, and flew around the house, checking to make sure the DVD was cued-up, that the outside notes were in place and the electric candles (it was drizzling outside) were on, the bottles were correctly in place, the coffee table arranged, and the lights turned strangely low. Knowing Leigh might pull up any minute, I peered out through the blinds of the front window, watching the street, my heart jumping at any headlights that appeared and then passed on.
I had not been stressed or rushed all day, save the frantic hour spent changing restaurants, but now sweat was pouring off me, and I was trembling. I had put so much work into this, for her to show up even a little too soon might blow everything. My thoughts swirled within me. What if she recognized my parent's car turning across Dairy Ashford into Stephanie's neighborhood? What if she grew too suspicious when Shirley began to sound surprised she was calling so close to home? What if she doesn't do what the notes say and searches the house?
Straining to breathe, I turned from the window and surveyed the living room, if only to gather some reassurance that everything was set up. It wasn't.
The central candle, by which sat a note instructing Leigh to play the DVD, was unlit. And I had no idea where Shirley kept the matches! Knowing Leigh would pull up any second, I ninja-leaped into the kitchen and tore through the drawers, digging for matches. Thankfully, I spied an old book of restaurant matches, half-used, and scurried into the living room. The match took five scrapes to light, but I managed to light the candle, extinguish the match, throw it away, hide the matchbook, and dive back to the window just in time to see Leigh's Honda CRV park out front. Diving to the floor, I Vietnam-crawled my way back to her parents' bathroom, and hid behind the counter where, hopefully, Leigh would not hear my labored breathing.
"Hello?" I eventually heard her call out from the back door (leave it to her not to see the candles and bottles right in front of her on the front walk, but go all the way around to the back door). "Mom? Dad?"
Play the DVD, Leigh. Just sit down and play the DVD. Don't search the house. Don't be stubborn - just do what the note says.
Finally, I heard the music begin on the DVD, which was a slideshow of pictures of the two of us in chronological order, telling our story, sandwiched between the quote about love that first moved her to comment on my blog back in April of 2005. Once again, I could breathe easier, and slowly I stood up, ready to walk out into the living room once the song ended and the words, "I love you, Leigh," came up on the screen backed by soft acoustic music.
But, as I stood up, suddenly, and to my horror, the song ended abruptly. I heard Leigh call out in a wavering voice, "Bo, are you in here?"
Cursing under my breath, I retreated back to my hiding place behind the counter as she called my name again. Just watch the darn slideshow, Leigh!
To my relief, the song continued then, and came to its end. I slowly stepped out from the bedroom and found my Leigh sitting on the couch quietly, staring at the words on the screen. I gently touched her shoulder and rounded the couch, kneeling before her. The ring box was literally up my sleeve.
To my best recollection, this is what I said, but I cannot be sure, because during it she began to cry and I was a mess of stress and emotion: "Merry Christmas, Leigh. I love you. I want to be with you for the rest of my life. I want to love you for the rest of my life." I then pulled out the box, choosing, for once in my life, not to keep talking, and opened it in front of her. "Leigh Ann Wright, will you marry me?"
"Sweetie," she exclaimed, "yes!" Giving a big hug, she then allowed me to place the ring on her finger. Of course, being the dunce that I am and the wreck of serenity I was right then, I misjudged which was her left hand, and the ring ended up on her right hand. We realized this and changed it a few minutes later.
We remained there for a little while, me explaining to her all my secretive procedures of the past few weeks, my trips to Waco, who made the ring, where the stone had come from, how many lies I had told as well as her sisters and parents, then me asking why she didn't come in the front and her admitting she had not even seen the bottles and candles that had been right in front of her. I was glad, then, that I had set a few up in the back as well. We toasted the moment with a couple of Dublin's, then I told her that her sister had brought over a choice of clothes for her to change into for our dinner date, which we were still going to keep.
She happily went and dressed while I walked around the block, to retrieve my car. Making my way through the chilled, wet evening air, I breathed calmly again, and would be able to do so the rest of the night. As I strolled contentedly to my car, I sighed a deep, brief prayer of thanks to God that somehow, even in his greatness and glory, somehow condescended to be in those frantic and beautiful moments that had just taken place. I hoped he would remain in all our moments from that time on.
Later, at the restaurant, we approached our reserved table and Leigh was taken aback by the excited, silly faces of her family half-hiding behind their menus. It was a wonderful evening, with good food, a wonderful family soon to be joined, and a radiantly beautiful girl sitting next to me, a diamond ring on her finger, a joyous grin on her face.
Merry Christmas, Leigh. I love you.
