"Yes," I told him, nodding. "We'd like a bottle of Inglenook Cabernet Sauvignon."
He looked at me for a moment, giving a little cough. "Begging your pardon sir," he said quietly, "but I'm sure you're aware that the legal drinking age in Washington is twenty-one. You don't exactly look that old."
I smiled, reaching into my wad and pulling out a twenty. "I assure you I'm of age," I explained, slipping him the twenty. "Here's my identification."
He took a look at the denomination for a moment and then nodded, slipping it into his pocket. "Thank you sir, everything appears to be in order."
When he left Nina asked me, "just how many of those twenties do you have anyway?"
"Enough," I answered.
The dinner was excellent. I decided to go for broke and had the live Maine lobster. Nina, after several reassurances not to worry about the price, went with that also. We sipped our Cabernet throughout, putting a respectable dent in the bottle. We talked between bites about anything and everything; the ease of conversation had always been the strong point between Nina and I. Just after the dinner dishes were removed I stood up and excused myself, telling Nina I needed to use the facilities.
It took me less than a minute to find our waiter. He had just carried someone's MasterCard to the cashier and was waiting for it to go through.
"Excuse me," I said to him.
He looked up at me questioningly. "Is everything all right sir?"
"Perfect," I assured him. "But I was wondering if you could do me a little favor?"
We talked for a moment and I handed him Nina's engagement ring along with another twenty-dollar bill. He agreed to do as I asked.
I returned to the table where Nina was watching the sunglow against the offshore clouds. She commented on how pretty it was.
"Yes," I told her, reaching across and taking her hand, "it's nice this time of year here. Of course we're probably going to hate it during the winter, spring, and fall."
"Maybe," she said, going back to her examination of the water and the sky.
The waiter came a moment later carrying a dark green bottle and two glasses.
He set the glasses down before us and then showed me the bottle he had. It was Dom Perignon and it would add sixty-eight dollars to the bill. I nodded.
"What's this?" Nina asked as the waiter made a show of putting the bottle down and popping open the cork.
"I thought a little champagne would be nice," I explained.
"Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked brightly, letting me know that she wasn't adverse to that if that was my intention.
"Something like that," I nodded.
He poured a dab of the champagne in my glass and then stood by, waiting for me to complete the ritual of tasting it. Where did this ritual start anyway? Had anyone ever tasted the wine or whatever and then said, "this swill tastes like shit, take it away"? I was sure that somewhere, someone had done that. I picked up the glass, actually quite curious as to how Dom Perignon would taste since I'd never had it before. To my disappointment it tasted only slightly better than Brut, which sold for two bucks a bottle. Oh well, the champagne wasn't there to taste good. I nodded my approval of it and he picked up my glass to pour it full.
After setting my glass of bubbling champagne down he picked up Nina's. He had obviously done such a thing before. He was so smooth about it that even I didn't see him slip the ring into the glass before he poured. For a moment I actually thought he was ripping me off, that he'd look puzzled when I asked him where the ring was. Ring? What ring? You didn't give me a ring. But when he set the glass down before her, there it was, sitting on the bottom, little bubbles clinging to the gold band and the diamond. Nina didn't notice it.
The waiter put the bottle into an ice bucket and then beat a hasty retreat, giving me a "good luck" look as he went. Nina grabbed her glass, holding it by the stem, her thumb and forefinger hiding the ring from her view. Perfect.
"Shouldn't we toast?" she asked me, gazing at my face. "That's what you're supposed to do with this, right?"
"By all means," I said, picking up my own glass. I gazed back at her, knowing the moment of truth had come, knowing it was too late to back out. "To a long life together," I said, "filled with love and understanding."
She smiled. "That's sweet Bill," she said. We clinked our glasses.
She put hers to her lips preparing to sip out of it. Her eyes widened as she got a look at what was sitting on the bottom of the glass. She stopped, just staring, the glass hovering against her face.
"Bill," she said slowly, without moving, "there's a ring in my glass."
"What do you know about that?" I said softly. "It kind of looks like an engagement ring, doesn't it?"
She finally lowered the glass, her face suddenly nervous, her eyes searching mine. "Did…, did you put that in there?"
"Not personally," I told her. "But I arranged for it." I leaned forward. "Will you marry me Nina?"
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. She looked from my face to the ring to my face again. She started to say something and then stopped. Her hands began to tremble, making the champagne bubble more, obscuring the ring. The tension in the air was very thick, at least from my vantagepoint. I momentarily lost track of time. How long did she sit there, not speaking, not answering, leaving me hanging? How long? A minute? Thirty seconds? An hour? Would she say yes? Would she throw the glass of liquid at my face and tell me I was some kind of madman if I thought she would marry me? Would she say she'd love to but that we were too young?
"Nina?" I finally spoke, breaking the silence. Had she even heard my question?
"You're asking me to marry you?" she asked breathlessly. "You're really asking me that? This ring is really for me?"
"Yes Nina," I nodded, "to everything. I want you to be my wife. I've asked your father and he's given me both permission and blessing. But all of that's meaningless without you. So now I'm asking you formally. Will you marry me? Will you be my wife?"
"You asked my father?" she asked.
Christ, she was killing me with anticipation. Couldn't we talk about her father after she said yes or no? "Yes Nina," I told her. "When we went fishing. I also talked to your mother tonight."
"Mom and Dad know where we went, what you were going to do?"
"They do," I nodded. "So does Ron for that matter." I took a deep breath, "now I don't want to rush you or anything and if you're not sure right now just tell me, but…"
"Oh God Bill," she said, her face breaking out into a huge, happy smile, "what do you mean "if I'm not sure right now"? Of course I'm sure, of course I'll marry you. Do you know how many times I've fantasized about this day? How many times I've lain awake wondering if you were ever going to ask? How you would ask if you did?"
"So that's a yes then?" I said, pretty sure it was, but wanting to confirm it.
"Of course it's a yes!" she said, leaning forward and kissing my lips, my nose, my cheek. Tears were now running from her eyes. "Do you have any idea of how happy you've just made me?"
A great sense of relief flooded me at her words, at her actions. At the tables around us I could see that some of the other diners had gleamed what was going on and most were giving us looks of happy approval. "About as happy as you've made me." I told her.
We broke apart and she looked in her glass again, eyeing the ring. "How do I get this thing out of there?" she wanted to know.
"The only way to do it without violating etiquette is to drink the champagne down and then reach in."
"Oh yeah?" she asked, the twinkle in her eye becoming mischievous.