Ethan

“So, what do you guys do on New Year’s Eve, during the day? Carve pumpkins?” Anna asked as I wandered back into the bedroom. I’d been making last minute arrangements for this evening.

“No, we don’t carve pumpkins on New Year’s any more than we carve pumpkins on Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, so what do you do?”

I thought about it. Were there traditions that I’d forgotten? “Nothing, we can do the tourist thing again. Or wander into the village.”

“What, not even tonight?”

“I’ve booked us a restaurant for tonight. If they’re not partying, people normally watch the ball drop in Times Square on TV.”

“Are we going to do that?”

“It depends, do you want to stand outside in freezing temperatures from about three o’clock to reserve your space?”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“I can’t imagine it is. We’ll have a nice evening.”

“I know, I always do when I’m with you.”

Just before my heart exploded the intercom buzzed.

Lucky for me Anna wasn’t quite ready, so I managed to intercept the courier from Harry Winston without too much suspicion. I took the padded envelope into the study and locked the door as quietly as I could. I wanted to see the ring and there was no way I could risk her walking in on me.

I was pretty sure she’d like it, but they had said we could choose something else if it wasn’t right. It was plainer than the first ones the woman behind the counter first picked out—just a simple band and a single square diamond. I didn’t think Anna would like too much. She wasn’t a show off. Yes—it would suit her.

My stomach began to churn. I really didn’t want to fuck this up. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted her to return to London with my ring on her finger.

* * * * *

“You’re right, it’s absolutely freezing. How did that happen?” Anna asked as we sat down in the horse and buggy in Central Park.

“If it starts shitting into that bag, we’re stopping this thing and going home,” I said.

Anna started laughing at me. “Just focus on how bloody cold it is, that will take your mind off the bag of poo in front of you.”

“Are we done with the touristy stuff after this?”

“Yes, this experience has put me off doing anything else. I thought it would be more romantic than it is. But the cold and the poo has taken the sheen off.”

“We can do romance later,” I replied.

“You’re the most romantic man ever.”

“Your sarcasm isn’t always a turn on, you know.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic,” she said as she pulled closer to me. “I mean it. Romance for me is someone who doesn’t bullshit, doesn’t play games and treats me well. Someone who loves me and doesn’t just say it, but shows it in everything he does. And you do all that, Ethan. I don’t want or need anything else from you.”

I kissed the top of her head. “Does that mean we can get out of this buggy?”

She laughed. “Yes, we can get off. As long as we can do the bridge.”

“Deal.”

Luckily we were only a few short minutes from Bow Bridge. We walked to the center point and then rested side by side against the railings, looking out across the water. The pond’s surface was still and the air was silent as if the rest of the world had paused while we had this moment together.

She turned and stretched her arms around my waist and looked up at me. “This is perfect. I think I’m going to like it here.”

“I think I’m going to like you here, too.”

Maybe I shouldn’t wait, maybe I should ask her right now.

“Let’s come here often,” she said and the moment was gone. “Maybe it could be a new tradition that we have every Sunday or something. You can push me over to the view across the lake in my wheelchair when I’m too old to walk anymore.”

It was a glimpse inside her image of our future together, a picture she didn’t reveal very often.

“Deal. I like the idea of having traditions of our own. Come on, the sun is going down and it’s going to get really cold.”

She nodded. “Let’s go home.”

We found a cab and headed back toward home.

“You haven’t really told me what we’re doing tonight. What time are our reservations?” she asked as we got back.

“We need to leave the apartment at just before eight.” I had decided to ask her just before midnight. There would be several moments tonight but there was no arrangement for a plane to carry a banner asking the question, or the ring to be in the bottom of a champagne glass. I wanted it to me more intimate than that. I wanted it to be just about us.

She paused, looked at me and the quietly said, “I’d like to see New York tonight and then I’d like to come back here, take all the pillows and blankets and quilts and pile them all on the floor. Then turn off all the lights and then lie on our mountain of bedding and watch the river and listen to the city with you, naked.”

“We can do that.”

“Really? It doesn’t interfere with your plans? Did you have us going to some big, fancy party? I don’t mind.”

“Of course I didn’t. Tonight was always just about you and me.”