On August 22, 2009, two weeks after we met one another, I was curled up on the couch with Dan and our daughter, watching a movie at his old apartment. He had intentionally set it up: a great movie that we all loved (Wall-E!), all of us curled up on the couch, a smile on my face... and that's when he asked me to be his girlfriend.
Three years later, I left work at 5:45 as I usually do, and on my way to pick up the kiddo from summer camp, my boyfriend Dan called and said that he had picked her up. Usually he works 2pm-10pm, but he'd had to go in early to interview someone yesterday, so he worked a 9-5 shift instead.
I got home, and he was already there with our daughter and my sister, who he had apparently asked to babysit. "Let's go! We've got reservations!" he said as he rushed me out the door.
He drove me downtown, and took me to the same restaurant where we had gone on our first date, PJ Ryan's Pub. He led me to the same table as our first date, where a vase with roses was waiting...and as soon as we sat, the waitress arrived with our meals: the same thing we had each ordered on our first date.
We talked and had a great dinner, reminiscing about how different things were from when we first met. Since then, we've each gotten new cars, I've gotten a new job, he's moved up at his company, I moved out of a horrible apartment with horrible roommates and he moved from an hour away to the house that we now share. Everything is different and all for the better, since we met.
We finished our meal - him not eating half of his, mine completely gone because yummy - and the waitress took our plates and left the check. He scooted our empty glasses to the side and took my hand across the table.
He said (and I'm paraphrasing, because I was in shock and I don't remember exactly what he said), "So, I couldn't take you back to the place where I asked you out the first time since I don't live there anymore, but I thought the place of our first date would be nice. Three years ago I asked you to be my girlfriend. We've been through a lot together."
I think that's when I realized a proposal was coming.
Then he got down on one knee (at which point I noticed the waitress was behind me, videotaping the entire thing with Dan's video camera), opened the little box with a beautiful ring inside, and asked, "Rebecca Sue Simmers, will you marry me?"
I don't remember if I said yes out loud. I think I did. I nodded and my eyes were filled with tears...and we hugged, and kissed, and everyone clapped and said "congratulations!" at which point the whole story came out with the waitress and Dan laughing over their shared secret planning.
It turns out, Dan had coordinated the whole thing with the waitress, Alika, days before, who was actually not a waitress, but the head bartender. She had stayed well past the end of her shift just to help orchestrate the whole thing. She had the meal ready, the flowers ready, and the camera waiting. They had worked out a signal system for her to sneak in and start videotaping. She went way out of her way to do her part in all this and I can't believe it.
I can't believe how much thought and planning went into everything...I am so amazed.
It was absolutely perfect. We went on a little walk afterward, because I was still shaking and needed to calm down, and we stopped in to our favorite shop in Phoenixville, Bridge Street Chocolates. As always, Gail was so nice and the chocolate was perfect. She gave me a big congratulations and a hug :-)
And looking back, he was clearly nervous. He picked at his food and was relatively quiet the whole time. (But to be fair, anyone in a conversation with me is relatively quiet since I babble.) He hadn't needed to go in to do an interview that morning, but instead had planned the entire thing around our anniversary date. All his coworkers have known about this for weeks.
Apparently he had the ring in his pocket the whole time, which he took care to hide. He also had the waitress' cell phone number and name in his pocket the other day, and panicked when I started poking at the paper in his pocket. "You're tickling me!," he had claimed, and I had stopped. Oh, silly, trusting me...
I can't imagine a more romantic, well-thought-out proposal. I never ever told him that I wanted a big public, down-on-one-knee proposal, but he somehow knew it was my dream. I don't recall telling him the cut and color and size of the diamond that I preferred, but he knew exactly what I wanted and it's so far beyond perfect. It's a certified diamond that he picked out by hand, and it's ethically sourced and certified by the GIA. I'm still unable to stop staring at this beautiful thing on my finger (which also happens to fit perfectly, despite the fact that he never measured my finger. He did, however, "hold hands with me and compare our hand sizes" at one point to get an idea of my finger size....sneaky sneaky!)
|My handsome man, after the proposal|