I remember it as if it were yesterday.
It was beautiful.
Not that it matters at this point, but the stock market was at a five-year high and the global economic environment was fantastic. The great financial crisis was a distant memory and yet another black man was in the White House. To the man on the street, life was good. But for me, it was perfect.
I was living the life of the average upper-middle class Bajan on a proud but tiny island in the Caribbean. My upbringing demanded that I be conservative, so my hair was neatly cut; my nails, well manicured; and my style, conventional. I was indeed a product of our stellar educational system. I went to school, graduated with a fancy degree – two of them in fact and then I found a great job. There, I spent half of my waking life working to pay for stuff I really didn’t need. I was a cog in the wheel of a capitalist society – and proud of it.
So, during the week I worked hard – very hard and when the weekends came I played even harder. Outside of work, life was seldom boring and in the rare moments when the excitement waned, I simply created my own entertainment.
I was writing a novel, had a side gig that filled me with bliss and had an awesome dog – a good boy. But most important, as I walked the sunny streets of Bridgetown, Barbados I had one more reason for the pep in my step. Last night, my darling of five years had said “yes”. I was going to marry her and we would have tons of kids. Things couldn’t be better. I had spelled out “MARRY ME” with the gifts I had gotten for her and she had swooned with excitement.
The first ‘M’ was a voucher for MANQ Makeup, possibly the most expensive ever to exist on the planet, and of course, her favorite brand.
The ‘A’ was an apple I cut in four because, of course, she was the apple of my eye. Corny, but she loved it.
The first ‘R’ was the Rycha designer fragrance that she had her eye on for the whole year. I got her the big bottle. That suited me just fine though, because its scent drove me wild.
The second ‘R’ was a solitary rose. That was the gift that was almost my undoing. In my bloody expensive car, which ironically came with no freaking cupholders, I was forced to steady the rose and its crystal vase in my lap. It made for several interesting misadventures on my way home.
The ‘Y’ was a knotted yo-yo. I told her that it was because she had my heart tied in a string. Also corny, but she was too excited to care. My buddies – my horsemen, were convinced that I settled for the two dollar yo-yo because nothing else started with the letter ‘Y’. A fair assessment.
The second ‘M’ was muscat, her favorite blush with “floral notes of autumn”… whatever that meant. She would substitute water for pink muscato if she could. And of course…
‘E’ was the engagement ring – modest gold with three diamonds in the crown. A little too wide for her slender dark fingers, but otherwise a decent fit. Regardless – she thought it divine.
From her reaction to the finale, I knew I had done well. She collapsed in my arms and showered me with kisses. She was too ecstatic for words. Even so, we sat and talked over the wine, which she graciously allowed me to sip before demoting me back to my ever-faithful white rum. We discussed our future and disagreed only about the number of children. She swore never in life to have “a litter”, which was fine. That was why the muscat.
MEET AN AUTHOR CONT'D
Chapter 1 – The Fall – Members Immortalis
Pop Boom Entertainment
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