the engagement

My stomach feels uneasy as I walk toward the pool complex. An old friend is swimming, and yells out a “Hello!” I smile and wave to her, trying to hide the uncertainty and nervousness I feel. I unconsciously play with the simple gold band on my left ring finger. Is this for real? I ask myself. Am I really engaged? Never one for elaborate rocks, I’d opted for a simple band, wider than my rings normally are, with two thin grooves separating the ring into two small, twisted rings surrounding a smooth solid wide strip–Simple enough to not draw attention, but intricate enough to be the real thing. Well…it’s still there. Was he serious? Am I serious? What in the world am I thinking? I barely even know this guy. …what’s his name again?

I see my friend swim to the side of the pool, talking with another old classmate sitting on a ledge surrounded by landscaping. His back is to me, but I still know it’s him. This is so weird, I think, taking one deep breath. Perhaps he wasn’t serious. Do I even want him to be serious? I don’t know. However, there’s only one way to find out if he’s serious, but I’m not going to bring it up here. Maybe I should just see what happens. Happy face. Put on the happy face.

“Hey, how are you?” I ask my friend as I approach, smiling. She looks up at me from her perch at the side of the pool and smiles back. Is that a knowing smile? No, perhaps she’s just glad to see me.

“I’m doing well. Yourself?”

I sit next to Nick (I’ve remembered his name). Close enough to intrude into his personal space should he be uncomfortable, but not too much so. After all, I practically know the guy. He looks to me and smiles, reassuringly. I smile back and turn to answer my friend.

“I’m doing well. What’s going on in your life? I haven’t talked to you in ages!” I try to listen as she accounts for the past several years since we’ve last seen each other. I use the opportunity to sort things out in my head. Always constantly aware of the man sitting next to me and the ring on my finger.

He was an acquaintance in school. We were never close friends, or even friends by my definition. But we knew each other, said hello as we passed in the halls. Nothing more. And now, at this school reunion, we find ourselves engaged. Not knowing each other at all, but knowing that it will work out.

He shifts his body closer to mine. Perhaps he really is serious. I smile inwardly and play along, shifting closer to him. We look at each other, and he leans back, resting his arm on the cement behind me. I smile, still attempting to listen to my friend as she continues talking about her job, and possible graduate schoolwork, yet more aware of the man beside me than the friend in the pool. He’s struggling, just as I am, to find the appropriate boundaries. Trying not to go be too touchy, but still show his interest, the seriousness of the proposal. I lean back into his chest a little, to reassure him subtly. I don’t want anything to be to obvious. At least I hope not. Not yet. I am still oh so confused…

How can I be engaged to this man. What’s his name again? Oh no. I forgot his name again! What is it? I knew it in school. We knew each other back then. But what about now? What sort of crazy person am I? I’m truly not this desperate to agree to marry someone whom I barely know, am I? Surely, I don’t expect this to last, or to be a very good marriage. I’ve always thought I’d marry my best friend. Yet, I barely know this man. How can I marry my best friend if I’m engaged to a man I barely know?

We’re sitting alone now. I have no idea how long my friend has been gone. Yet, this doesn’t bother me. I’m still deep in thought, still worried about what I’m getting myself into. As much as it doesn’t make sense, I know in my heart that this is right. Perhaps that’s why I’m so confused. It shouldn’t be right, but it is.

I look up, and he’s looking down at me, smiling. Always smiling.

“So…?” I ask, leaning away slight to see he face more clearly.

“Yeah.” He replies. His smile reveals confusion and tension. He’s obviously been thinking some of the same things.

“Yeah?” I ask again, unable and unwilling to bring it up verbally. Not yet. It’s still too weird.

“Yes” he says. This time with strength and conviction. “Yes.”

I breathe deeply, leaning back into his chest. Relax. It’s ok. I feel myself drawing closer into him. I close my eyes and think. It’s going to be ok. It’s all going to work out. We’ll get to know each other, and it’ll all be ok.

“I’d like to talk, sometime. I don’t really know you.” I say, leaning away and looking up at him once more.

He smiles. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. “I know. We will.”

This is it. I’m engaged. Not as I’d expect, but I am. I can do this. No one will understand, but that’s ok. We’ll work through it.

The next morning, I am slighting more secure about the whole engaged situation. Apparently, word has gotten around the reunion. Word always did travel quickly in this class. Small towns—go figure.

I walk up the elaborate stairs in the hotel lobby. Another old friend, Josh, walks past me. He sees me as we’re passing and says, ‘So, what’s this I hear…” I hold up my left finger hand before he finishes his sentence, answering his question with the simple gesture. I look into his eyes, as he continues, “Ok then.” And walks on. I hope that my eyes didn’t give away too much insecurity. I am secure in the status of our relationship. Yet I’m still unsettled. It’s still so very new, and so very, very sudden and unorthodox.

I meet Nick later in the day, this time at the indoor pool. No one is in there. They’re all taking advantage of the warm sunny day. Nick is sitting on a pool chair, talking on the phone. I perch on the chair next to him, observing. He sees me and hands me the phone, “It’s my mom.” he says. I look the phone nervously and take it. This is weird. I’ve never been good at talking on the phone. Suddenly, I’m talking on the phone with the mother of the man I’m engaged to. The man I’m engaged to, whom I barely know. This is weird. What do I say? Hello, I’m engaged to your son. Yes, I realize that we barely know each other. Hopefully we’ll fix that before we get married. I stand up and pace in front of the glass wall, looking out at the beautiful sunny day.

“Hello. How are you? … I’m doing well, thanks. … Yeah, thanks. …Well, here’s your son back. It was nice to talk to you.” I’ve forgotten his name again. I hope she didn’t notice. This is very awkward. I wonder if she hates me now.

I sit next to him and hand him the phone. I rest my head on his shoulders as he talks. “Hello? Yup, that’s her…it’s great…No…yes, I understand…yeah…I should go. It was great talking to you…Yeah, you too…I love you too. Bye…” he hangs up the phone. He wraps his arms around me and leans us back into the chair. Suddenly, I feel ok. I have this strange reassurance that his mother supports us. We talk like that, lying on the pool chair, his arms around me. Oh so comfortable.

A few weeks later, we eat dinner with my mother. We sit at the table, dinner half eaten as she grills him with questions. These aren’t the “So, you’re engaged to my daughter” questions. She doesn’t know we’re engaged. Having decided that I simply could not yet deal with her questions and disapproval of my engagement choice, I quietly placed the ring in my pocket before we sat to eat. Even so, I can feel the disapproval, and hear the comments and questions in my head. They’re so loud I can barely hear the real conversation going on around me. So you’re engaged, huh? Do you even know this man? I didn’t think so. How do you think you can get married if you don’t know him? He could be anyone! He could be a murder for all you know. You’ve never been good at judging character. He probably is a criminal. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to mistreat you, take all you have and leave. You can’t be engaged to a man you don’t know. What will people think? What will they say?

Just being in her presence, I feel the condemnation. How could her daughter do this to her? Yet, her voice in my head is not ignored. We’re not even setting a date yet. this is a very committed courtship. We’re not going to get married until we both feel ready. Yes, we’re engaged, but neither of us is even thinking of a wedding yet. At least one that’s not at least a year away, perhaps more.

Still. This is so weird. I reach my hand into my pocket and take the ring out. I play with it under the table, turning it over between my fingers. I look across the table at him. He’s looking at my mother, talking. He nods his head and smiles as he talks. I run my fingers over the ring and feel the small twisted line, the solid band, the small twisted line. Slowly, I put the ring on and turn it around on my finger. This is real. I’m engaged. This is so weird. I smile.