"Oh?"
"I bought her an engagement ring."
Tracy registered absolutely no surprise at this revelation. "Is it a nice one?" she asked.
"Reasonably," I assured her.
"When are you going to offer it to her?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," I said. "I need a good, female perspective on this. You see, the first time I got married, you know, before, there was no proposal. We simply decided it made good financial sense."
"That's sad," my sister commented.
"Yeah," I replied, "it was. Lisa didn't get an engagement ring until about six months after we were married. She only wanted it because her wedding ring looked "lonesome" without one. So we went down to a jewelry shop together, bought one with our joint checking account, and had it soldered on. Not very romantic."
"No," Tracy agreed wholeheartedly.
"I want this to be different. I want it to be something she'll always remember, something she'll tell her friends, our kids, our grandkids about. Do you see?"
She was beaming. "Oh yes," she replied, "I know exactly what you're talking about. Let me think." She thought for a minute. "Well of course you simply have to drop the ring into a glass of champagne."
"A glass of champagne?" I asked, wondering if Tracy's perspective was the right one to tap after all. "Isn't that cliche?"
"No," she said firmly, "it's what we all want. Trust me."
"I'll give it some thought," I said doubtfully.
"But for the set-up for it," she said next, "consider this: A hot-air balloon ride."
That actually sounded a little more interesting. "Go on."
"They have champagne balloon rides outside Coeur d' Alene. You can book private flights where there's only the pilot. When you break out the champagne up at six thousand feet, you can make that your moment." She shivered a little as she considered it. "That would be the ultimate."
The balloon thing seemed like a good idea at first and I mulled it over for the rest of the day. I considered things like whether or not Nina was afraid of heights (I'd never bothered to ask her this), whether the presence of the balloon pilot would intrude upon the atmosphere of the occasion, and what would happen if I accidentally dropped the ring out of the balloon from six thousand feet over some farmer's back forty. I decided that more research was in order.
The next day Nina, Mike, Maggie, and myself went on another ski trip, this time to Coeur d' Alene Lake which, while smaller than Pend Oreille was considerably closer. I managed to get Maggie to myself for a little bit about halfway through the day, while Mike was dozing on a picnic blanket and Nina was off trying find a private place to pee. I posed my question to her as we waded in waist-deep water near the beached boat, drinking cans of beer.
"You're gonna ask her to marry you?" she squealed happily.
"Christ Maggie," I scolded, "you think maybe you could yell it a little louder? The people on the golf course across the lake didn't quite understand you."
"Sorry," she said, "but it's so exciting. Congratulations." She stepped forward and gave me a hug, allowing her wet, bikini-clad breasts to push into my bare chest. There was no overt sexuality behind it, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't pleasurable.
"So what do you think?" I asked her once we'd broken apart. "What's the most romantic proposal scheme you can come up with?"
She smiled sexily. "Well, a traditionalist would suggest putting the ring in a glass of champagne."
"Again with the champagne," I muttered.
"But I'm not a traditionalist," she continued. "I think the best way would be to take her out to a nice dinner in a romantic restaurant. You know, a dressy place with wine and a snooty maitre 'd and all that. Order some expensive food, some expensive wine, set up the mood. But don't give her the ring there."
"Not there?"
"No," she shook her head, "that's just the set-up. After dinner, you find someplace to be alone. You know, ALONE?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Then you start kissing her. You kiss her lips, her cheeks, you nibble on her ears, you kiss your way down her shoulder and across her arm. Ideally she would have on a strapless dress for this occasion. If you could arrange that, so much the better."
"Of course."
"So, anyway, you continue down her arm, just kissing and making her generally hot." She gave me a knowing look, "I KNOW you know how to do that.
When you make it to her hand, her left hand, you surreptitiously remove the ring from your pocket or whatever and slip it into your mouth. You kiss her fingers and then take the ring finger and start sucking on it. Then, using only your mouth, you put the ring on her finger." She sighed as she thought about this. Uncomfortably, I could see that her nipples had hardened. "What do you think?"
"What do I think?" I asked, "that gave me a hard-on just hearing you tell about it."
"So it's a good idea?"
"I'll consider it," I told her. "I'm not sure that's quite right for Nina, but I'll mull it over."
"You do that," she said. "Trust me on this. It'll be erotic beyond belief.
She'll remember it forever."
Just then Nina came tromping back out of the woods beside the lake. We hushed up our conversation and Maggie said, "I'm gonna go wake up Mike. After that conversation I'm gonna have to have someone go with me when I pee, if you know what I mean."
She headed out of the water, flashing Nina a pleasant grin. A minute later her and Mike had disappeared the way Nina had come. But that was okay. We found something to occupy ourselves with while they were gone.
The next day at work I brought the question up to Mindy. Since my days there were numbered, Mindy was pretty much letting me get away with whatever I wanted. She encouraged me to come in late (which I never did), to leave early (which I sometimes did) and to take long breaks. When I told her what my intentions were and asked her for advice on the matter, she took me aside and talked to me for more than thirty minutes on the subjects of women, romance, intrigue, mystery, and various other topics. She gave me no actual suggestions but listened carefully to those that I'd already received. After talking to her I was able to formulate a plan that incorporated elements of both Maggie's and Tracy's suggestions.
The next day I went to work on the plan. The first step was to talk to Nina. I gave her a call and asked her if maybe she was up for a nice dinner on the following Saturday night.
"A nice dinner?" she asked. "How nice? Would I have to dress up?"
"Yes," I told her. "That dress you wore to the play would be appropriate. So what do you say?"
"Where did you have in mind?" she wanted to know.
"You'll see it when you get there," I said cryptically. "So are you in?"
"I'm in."
When I hung up I began making phone calls, referring to a list I'd made after considerable research. I made the necessary arrangements, writing everything down so I wouldn't forget it. The final phone number was one that did not involve research. It was here where everything could fall apart. But it didn't. The recipient of this phone call was more than happy to help me out, especially after I told him what my intentions were.
I hung up the phone with a smile. Everything was in place. Well, almost everything. I went to see Dad.
"I need you to cash out some more stocks for me," I told him.
He nodded, taking a sip out of his coffee. "It'll be nice when you're finally eighteen and able to cash out your own damn stocks," he said good-naturedly. "How much?"
I told him.
"That much?" He asked, surprised.
I told him what it was for and he smiled.
"I'll do it today," he told me.
Saturday, September 3, 1984. A day that will live in infamy.
I woke up early, very early, six o'clock in the morning type of early and was unable to sleep any more. My date with Nina was still nearly nine hours away, the moment of truth considerably more than that, but I knew there would be no more sleep for me. I drug myself out of bed and went downstairs to watch some television. I knew the day was going to drag on like nothing I'd ever experienced before.