Had a blast over the Fourth with B's family at their GA lake house. We introduced his brother to homemade peach and blueberry ice cream from the local orchard, indulged in fruit-laden desserts, and gobbled up beef tenderloin and hot dogs, in equal amounts.
I couldn't help but think back to a year ago, when B and I spent the holiday with his parents at the lake house. Well, we spent our time there and I spent most of it crying. No seriously. The conversation started with B asking, "What would an ultimatum sound like?" (No seriously.)
For B's sake, I should say that the day before this conversation happened he went into the big city of Atlanta and ordered a sparkly diamond ring, so there was no chance of this union not going forward. There was, however, a strong chance (and getting stronger by the minute) of me pushing him into the lake.
So, like all conversations that begin with the word "ultimatum," this talk began to spiral and ended with this damning statement from B:
"I haven't really thought about marriage since I started law school (ONE FREAKING YEAR AGO)." [Parenthetical note added by author, not speaker.]
I've got to cut B a little slack; he knew I wanted to be surprised, so what choice did he have? He told me that, knowing he had the ring, he could hardly help but talk about it, so the only way to bring it up without me getting suspicious was by going the anti-route. As in, anti-us. I kid you not. I went home from that weekend and thoughts, "By God, I'm going to have to start dating again when he leaves in August."
Needless to say, this July 4th was decidedly different. There were tears (a few sad ones, lingering from Dad's birthday a few days before), but there were also snuggles and big hugs, hugs that a year ago I had stiff-armed like a Heisman contender.
We spent time on the boat, reading on the dock (Eat, Pray, Love, anyone?), and feasting on the likes of enchilada casserole, fresh peaches, brats, burgers, and roughly eight bottles of wine. Happy Birthday, America!
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