WREN

With bright green, flowering trees on all sides, the Jeep slows to grab the parking pass. “So I only get one guest pass a year and I’m using it on you. Feel special, Sweet Tits.”

“Please never call me that adorable nickname in front of my mother.”

“What’s that?” he asks, snatching the ticket and driving forward. “Tell your mom I like sucking on your sugary breasts? Is that what you said?”

“That is the opposite of what I said.”

“Write a letter to her, a proclamation of my adoration for your tasty nipples, you ask?”

“No. Never do that.”

“Hire a sky writer to fly over your Mom’s house telling her that I love fucking her only daughter?”

“Her only child, get it right. There are no others. I am the only…and the best.”

He laughs and pulls into a parking spot, hopping out of the car. The doors are gone since it’s springtime, so I jump down, too.

“Hey!” he objects.

“I don’t need help out of your damn Jeep, Eric.”

Grumbling to himself, “I’m screwing the doors back on if you do that again,” he laces our fingers together and brightens up. “Speaking of moms, this is where mine and my dad had one of their first dates.”

Interest piqued, I glance at his handsome profile. “They came here?”

“Yeah, with my Uncles.”

“Which ones?”

“The twins.”

“Jason and Justin? Why? Is your mother that wild that your father needed two chaperones?”

“If anyone in my family heard you say that, they’d think it was fucking hilarious.” Pulling out his membership card and the paper guest pass, he slides them through the little gap under the ticket-window. “How you doing?”

The volunteer smiles back, “Beautiful day!” as she scans them and hands his card back. “Enjoy yourselves. Be sure to check out the orchids.”

“Oh, we will,” he grins. “You have a great day now.”

“Thank you!”

Proudly he leads me into the entrance. There are folded maps tucked into a silver display on the first floor and bathrooms upstairs to our left. Glass walls ahead give visitors a peek at the majestic beauty waiting for them. For us.

Another volunteer waits by folded paper maps, hands clasped in front of her uniform. “Welcome to Atlanta’s Botanical Gardens. Have you been here before?”

Eric proudly informs her, “I’m a lifelong member, but it’s my girlfriend’s first time.”

“Oh how nice,” she smiles, having no clue how much this means to me.

Eric hooks his arm around my waist, “You ready?”

We walk out into what can only be called an oasis, a feast for my soul, flora and fauna carefully selected in an artful design of pathways and bridges. I’m speechless as we start the adventure, birds singing high in the trees, rainbows of butterflies landing inches from us. The air smells so fresh and crisp that I wish they could bottle it so I could bring it back to my house and only breathe this air.

“I can’t believe it’s always been right here my whole life, and I never came,” I whisper, wide eyes and heart open.

“I’m glad your first time is with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Makes me feel like it’s mine.”

He takes my hand and we stroll around, him pointing out plants he likes and telling me what he knows about them. We go under a tiled passage and Eric pauses to kiss me, backing me against a wall as my arms slip around his neck. His eyes shine as he gazes down at me. “You happy, Wren?”

“Ridiculously.”

He kisses my nose and says, “Wait until you see this next part.” As we come around a corner Eric watches my expression. I gasp at an enormous sculpture of a woman’s serene face. Through her green hand pours water into a fountain. “They call her Earth Goddess,” he smiles. “She’s made of plants and flowers, see that?”

Looking closer I’m stunned. “She’s so beautiful! Whoever created her was a visionary!”

“Guess how tall she is?”

“I can’t.”

“Twenty-five feet.”

“No! Oh my God, can we get a picture in front of her?”

He grins, “Sure,” and politely stops a couple as they pass by, their eyes just as filled with awe. “Excuse me, could you take our picture?”

“Only if you’ll take ours,” the older man barters with a twinkle in his eyes. They light up more, this time with recognition. “Hey now, aren’t you the Falcons’ quarterback?”

Eric holds out his hand. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?”

“Hank, and this is my wife, Betty. Congratulations on the Super Bowl.”

Betty gushes, “You slaughtered ‘em!”

“Thanks! They didn’t stand a chance. Where you from?”

“Arizona. It was ninety in Phoenix last week,” she announces, clearly not pleased with it. “Can we take a photo with you?”

I offer to do it, and the couple stands on each of Eric’s sides, him towering above them. Neither of them can be taller than five-six.

“Got it!” I smile, offering the camera. “Take a look. I gave you some choices.”

Glancing to the screen, they huddle, excited. “I can’t wait to tell Connie, she’ll be so jazzed!”

“I’m gonna be the star of the poker game next time, I can tell you that,” Hank grins. “Oh, let us take yours.”

Eric hands him his cell. “Use my phone. Wren forgets to text me photos of us.”

“I do not!”

“Don’t lie.”

“Well, I get distracted,” I mutter as we walk over to stand with the Earth Goddess and soothing sound of water, behind us. Hank and Betty stand a good distance away, angling the phone to get a better shot. I go for Eric’s hand but he mutters, “Hang on,” digging in his pocket. “Did I forget my keys in the Jeep?”

“I hope not. You want to go back?”

“No, I’ve got ‘em, sorry. Hank make it video, okay?”

“Okay…Ready!”

Frowning I ask, “Why video?”

Eric bends his knee, holding up a diamond ring between his thumb and forefinger. I gasp, hands flying to my lips as his smile becomes intimate, hopeful, and filled with love. “Wren, be my wife. Marry me?”

Tears of happiness spring up and hover as I breathe a quietly shocked, “Yes.”

“Louder so my family can hear you later,” he winks.

“Yes! Oh yes, I would love to marry you, Eric!”

My finger trembles as he slides the ring on. I stare at it, and it winks back. Quietly so nobody but us can hear, he smirks, “I love you, Sweet Tits.”

Biting my lip on a grin I whisper back, “I love you, Cocker, you jerk, more than you know.”

“You’re going to have lots of time to show me.” Pressing a firm, final kiss to my smile he rises up and deepens it, briefly but with promises of more to come. We glance to the strangers who will forever be a part of our lives in this memory. “You get that, Hank? Betty?”

The couple beams, nodding. “Got it!” He hands the phone back and loops his arm around his wife. “We’ve been married thirty-two years. I hope you’re as lucky.”

We thank them and say goodbye, but as we leave with our arms around each other, too, Eric’s cocky, lopsided grin flashes and he calls back, “We’re gonna beat that, Hank, I promise you.”

Laughing I quietly chide him as we stroll away, “You’re so competitive.”

“Life is a game,” he murmurs into my hair, our footsteps keeping time. “Play it to win it.” After a few moments he laughs, “I know what my Mom is going to get us as an engagement present.”

“Oh yeah, what?”

“Your membership card to the Gardens. You might be an only child but you’re going to have two moms, two dads now…and a huge fucking family to go with ‘em.”