I had some work to do anyway. We got there about one o'clock or so, and I began working. Around 3:30 I noticed that Jeffrey was away from his desk, and had not been at his desk for a while. I assumed he was just in the restroom or something and shrugged it off. When he came back he said, "My brain is melting. Want to take a walk?"
Across the street from our office there is a small lake with a dirt nature trail looping around it. The entire path is about three miles in length, and is an absolutely gorgeous walk. Often you will find people walking their dogs, jogging, biking, even fishing along the path. The best season - in my opinion - to walk this path is in the fall. There's very few mosquitos, it's cool, quiet, and colorful.
Along the path around the lake, there is another side path on the opposite side of the lake. This side path is a short off-shoot down to the Charles River. When we first started dating, we walked around the lake and often went down this path to take pictures. It's secluded except for the occasional kayakers. This time we walked down the path to the Charles and I saw on the beach there was a large X on the ground in white stones - not indigenous to the area.
"Oh look," I said, "X marks the spot." Jeff then went to the X, went down on one knee, mumbled something about me being his treasure (he really did have a whole speech prepared, he says, but it fell out of his head the moment we got there) and proposed. I cried. A lot. (Out of surprise and happiness, of course!)
Jeff says:
Sarah makes it sound so effortless, doesn't she? What she hasn't mentioned are the many, many trips I took down that lakeside path to plan everything out - from the location itself to the time of day to the duration of the walk (.7 miles out, 12.5 minutes one way... 'don't forget to double these measurements!' I told myself... frequently); the trip to Home Depot to get white stones suitable for making a Buried Treasure X ('Oh, these are for the garden patch behind the condo!' I said, thinking quickly. She told me after the Proposal that she wondered why the bag remained in the basement, unopened). The night before, while Sarah was running the lights for her show, I transferred everything I would need into the car: heavy backpack full of white stones and two umbrellas in the back seat (bought just for this occasion, in case of rain!). I also checked the ring (a constant habit in the months since it was picked out) and put its box in the pocket of my vest. The vest was casually draped over the back of the couch in the basement, so in the morning I'd be able to go downstairs to 'check on the laundry' and put the vest on, complete with hidden ring already in-pocket and ready for the big day.
For some reason I was really proud of myself for the vest thing.
Sarah and I usually walk the path around Cutler Lake during lunch or after work, since it's so near to the office, and I assumed that on a Sunday afternoon foot traffic would be even less. Not so! My initial attempt to set everything up took place at 2:30 on Sunday, October 13th, but I chickened out when I saw the half-dozen bicyclists unloading equipment from their cars in preparation for a lakeside tour. I came back an hour later, at 3:30, and with no sign of the sigh-inducing cyclists I started down the path, engagement in sight.
Also in sight: two slow-moving German hikers and their dog. They were traveling the same direction I was, and I was tempted to slow down so I could ensure they did not stop at the same lakeside clearing at which I planned to leave my treasure marker, but their dog was so interested in the plants along the side of the path that it seemed the 12.5 minutes (times two!) I had allotted for the round trip would rapidly become inaccurate. Instead I tried to remember enough of the German I took in college to say 'Please continue, I am about to propose to my girlfriend' if they did catch up to me while I was setting up my treasure marker. We're lucky they didn't turn down that side path, because I don't know how to say that!
When I arrived at the chosen spot, a team of kayakers were drifting by. I pretended to check my phone until they were safely past, and then unloaded enough stones from the heavy backpack I wore to make my Buried Treasure X. When I stood back up and surveyed my handiwork, it looked even better than I had expected it to look. I walked back to the main path and saw the German hikers just disappearing around a bend -- they had not come down the side path after all! I had worried for nothing. With a spring in my step, I then began the .7 mile, 12.5 minute journey back to the office, there to get Sarah and casually suggest a walk around the lake.
Oh no. More people coming toward me! What if they turn down the side path? What if they see the X? What if they kick the stones away? What if we get back there and there's just a scattering of white stones all over the place? I had been worried about the German hikers? I hadn't seen anything yet! On the way back to the office I passed:
Two women energetically walking.
A jogger, male.
A man and a woman, walking.
A woman and her dog.
A few more walkers.
A man on the phone walking two dogs, with THREE boys of about eight or so years old.
I was convinced the X would be gone by the time we got back there, and was despairing of the whole plan. In fact, while Sarah and I walked the .7 mile, 12.5 minute walk back to that lakeside clearing, I was desperately trying to come up with something romantic to say about a scattered mess of white stones by the side of a lake.
But as you know by now, as with most things involving Sarah and me, everything worked out fine -- the X was still there (despite the incredibly high foot traffic around the lake that day), and even if it hadn't been, it wouldn't have mattered. All that mattered to me was that she said 'Yes,' and because of that, our dream of the future can come true. I couldn't be more excited!
No comments:
Post a Comment