Last night, after a delicious dinner,my bofriend leans across the couch and says, “I found this box in my car. I don’t know what’s in it, will you look and see if you can figure it out?”
My heart does four, gigundo, sasquatch-sized leaps.
We’ve been dating for more than a year and the “M” word is the elephant in the room growing larger by the second. Could this be it? THE moment? He said box, I mean WHAT ELSE could this be?
“Ok,” I said and we start to head outside.
I’m preparing myself as we walk to his car. “This isn’t it, but this could TOTALLY be it! How will he ask? What if it’s gaudy? Worse, what if it’s yellow gold? Not gonna matter cause this isn’t it. Or is this it?! Not it. IT!”
We get to the car and I’m trying not to let the thoughts pounding through my head read on my face.
He unlocks the passenger door and reaches inside. I crane my neck to see what he’s reaching for but the back of the seat is in the way.
“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” I think. Everything is happening in slow motion and I’m dying from the anticipation.
He straightens and I can see the box in his hand. I recognize its shape immediately.
“Here,” he says. “Tell me if you know what this is.”
And I do, I know exactly what it is.
It’s the electric can opener his mother gave us on our last trip home.
I hand the box back and head inside.