SIENNA
There should come a time in every girl’s life when she feels she can safely exhale. At least that’s what I had always believed. I doubted each and every girl on the earth reached that point, and the thought saddened me that some didn’t, but I did.
And I was grateful when the day finally came.
“I had no idea there were carriage rides in Old Town,” I said.
The man driving the carriage was actually wearing a top hat, which was pretty cool in my opinion. The carriage was white and rather ornate, with carvings along the sides and on the armrests. The seats were red velvet and quite comfortable for a wooden carriage. As the man whipped the reigns up and down the Clydesdale horses picked up the pace slightly.
We’d been in the carriage for thirty minutes, taking a tour of Old Town in downtown Wichita. Vince had spent the entire time checking his watch, so I realized he must have had other plans, but I had no idea what they were.
The evening was perfect, and for Kansas in the fall, rather enjoyable. It was just under sixty degrees, the dark sky overhead was filled with stars, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. As we sipped our hot apple cider, the carriage came around the corner.
“The Keen Kutter building,” the man said as he motioned toward the brick building on our right side.
Vince checked his watch.
“Built in 1906 by Wurster Construction, the building was used by Keen Kutter until the early 1920’s when Winchester Arms merged with Keen Kutter to utilize…”
Vince checked his watch again.
The carriage slowed down slightly, and the sound of the horse’s hooves slapping against the brick street became almost musical. I took a sip of cider and gazed off to the left at the renovated one hundred year old buildings that had been developed into housing, eateries, and bars.
Vince checked his watch.
I shook my head and turned to the side and watched as two people walked by hand in hand, probably on their way to the wine bar half way down the block. It was almost midnight and the bars were all that was really left open. I shifted my eyes toward the front of the carriage, only to see that Vince had moved to the seat in front of me.
The carriage seated six people, and Vince had rented the entire carriage to give us privacy. Although he had been seated at my side all night, he obviously got bored and moved.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and leaned forward.
“Sienna, I can say this without hesitation,” he said. “You are the only woman I have ever loved. I know that now, I know it.”
“Awwe, thank you,” I said as I leaned forward and kissed him.
“I want this to last forever,” he said.
“The ride?” I asked with a grin.
He shook his head. “This. You and me.”
“Me too,” I said.
“So,” he said as he raised himself from the seat.
He removed his right hand from his jacket, lowered himself onto one knee, and raised his hand in front of me. I glanced at his hand.
Oh God…
Vince.
“Sienna, I would be the proudest man on earth if you would agree to marry me,” he said.
I bit into my lip and nodded my head, incapable of speaking. I mouthed the words “I will” as tears began to well in my eyes.
I reached for the ring and nodded my head again. I had read about this moment in thousands of books, but nothing could have prepared me for what was happening. He shook his head, reached for my hand, and slipped the ring onto my finger.
I glanced down at the ring. It was a ridiculously huge round diamond, and the sides of the ring were covered in smaller diamonds, fading into small slivers at the bottom.
It was breathtaking.
“I love you,” I said as I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks.
Vince turned toward the man driving and nodded his head. The man raised his hand to his mouth, pulled the reigns downward, and stopped the carriage. As the carriage came to a halt, the man whistled a shrill whistle loud enough for the entire city to hear.
“And off to the left, you can see the not so historic Warren Theatre parking garage,” he said with a slight laugh as he pointed toward the structure on the left.
Vince turned to the left and stared, pulling me in his arms as he did so. Under the streetlights and illuminated enough for me to see I wasn’t the only one crying, he looked peaceful and content.
I was in heaven.
A huge boom, followed by another, and yet another caused me to jump in my seat. The top of the parking garage illuminated underneath the fireworks display over our heads. It was just like the Fourth of July, the sky glowing with pinks, reds, blues, and yellows, one burst after the other.
I smiled as I stared out at the display, only to see the someone’s head clearing the top of the roof and peering down below.
The unmistakable “Whoop” of Biscuit making a cat-call made me giggle, and I waved at him from the carriage.
“Congrats, Motherfuckers!” I heard Jackson scream.
“All of this,” I said as I waved toward the fireworks. “You’re amazing.”
“No, you’re amazing,” he said.
“I’m just surprised…” I paused and shook my head.
The next day was November 9th, the anniversary of our first kiss. I found it odd he didn’t wait until the next day to propose.
“What?” he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders and admired my ring. “Nothing.”
“Surprised I didn’t wait ‘till the 9th?” he asked.
I nodded my head. He pointed to his watch. “It’s the 9th. It’s been the 9th for some time now.”
I realized it was past midnight, and the 9th of November.
A true romantic, the love of my life had just proposed to me on the anniversary of our first kiss. Directly above us the fireworks continued to explode, illuminating the sky entirely. I pointed up at the sky, down at my ring, and shook my head.
“What?” he asked.
“This,” I said.
“What about it?” he asked.
“This is the money shot,” I said.
He grinned and pulled me in for a kiss. “It sure is.”
And it was. The perfect night. The perfect man. The perfect romantic moment. If our lives were ever written into a book, it would be the perfect…
Money shot.