The Choice – A short story about a marriage proposal

Boisterous laughter drifted up from the street below as Jennifer Carlo slid the sliding glass door open and stepped out onto the deck. She sucked in a deep breath of salty air as she sauntered over to the railing and looked down on the group of tanned teenagers that were heading to the beach just a block away.

Jen smiled as memories of her own teen years at the shore came flooding back. Those were some times, she thought; she and her gang of girlfriends had spent many, many long summer days strutting in their bikinis down to the boardwalk, eighties rock blaring from their boomboxes, tanned skin gleaming with sun oil and their lips coated in sticky pink gloss as the wind had tossed their wild, wild hair.

She’d had it all figured out back then, she thought, wryly, as she returned to the tiny kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee and pried a couple of cinnamon rolls from their cardboard tray, knowing full well that she really couldn’t stand the calories, but not fully giving a shit, either.

With a satisfied grunt, she stepped back outside and took a seat at the miniscule, umbrella topped table, “Happy fucking birthday, Jen,” she whispered, as she toasted the air with a cinnamon roll, “Now, what the hell are you going to do with the rest of your damn life, huh?”

Her cell phone rang and she quickly wiped her sticky fingers on the edge of the metal table before picking it up.

“Jen, where the hell are you?” Sherri, her neighbor and close friend, shrieked into the phone, “I thought we were going to go check out that new gym this morning.”

“Shit! Yeah, sorry,” Jen sighed into the phone, “It slipped my mind.”

“Where are you? I don’t see your car in the driveway.”

“Actually, I’m at the shore …”

“Why? Wait, are you with Tony? And you didn’t even think to tell me that you were going to the beach! Maybe I wanted to tag along. God knows I could use a tan …”

“Sher, I’m not with Tony,” Jen interrupted her, “I needed to get away for awhile. Just me. Alone.”

“What’s going on? Did you guys break up?”

“No, we didn’t break up. Actually, he proposed.”

Sherri’s joyful shriek was so loud that Jen pulled the phone away from her ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me? And the ring! You never showed me the ring, Jennifer!”

A seagull swooped in and took up residence on the railing. Jen glared at him and moved her cinnamon rolls closer.

“You did say yes, right?”

“Well, I didn’t say no,” Jen shrugged, “I told him that I needed to think about it first. That’s why I’m here. I’m thinking about it.”

“Why are you thinking about it, Jen? Might I remind you that just last year you were freaking out that Tony might break up with you and you’d die a lonely old woman. Remember? And now he’s actually proposed and you’re off figuring out what to do about it? There’s nothing to think about, Jen. You say, yes! Yes, I will marry you, Tony!”

“I knew that you would say that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sherri asked, adding, “And besides, you aren’t getting any younger. You’ve got to get while the getting’s good, you know what I mean?”

“Everything you say is making me feel a whole lot better.”

“Well, I … I am just trying to get you to see reason.”

“It’s good that I have you to tell me what I want.” Jen said, sullenly.

“Fine. It is good that you have me. Jennifer, you are a 43 year old woman today, and yes, I remember that it’s your birthday. Happy birthday. But, I think you should accept Tony’s proposal, and I’m standing by it.”

“I knew that was how you’d see it, and that’s why I didn’t tell you.”

Sherri made a disgusted noise, “I’m offended.”

“Don’t be. You aren’t the only one that thinks I should marry Tony.”

“If everyone thinks that, maybe it’s damn good advice, then.”

“Ordinarily, I would agree, but it’s not so easy.”

“What’s not easy about it?” Sherri asked, “You want to be married. I know you do.”

“I do.” Jen closed her eyes and sighed, softly.

“There is your answer then.”

“I guess I was hoping for something more. I wanted wildly, passionately in love.”

“He treats you right. He’s got a good, steady job. He wants kids, and, he wants to marry you. He’s what’s called a keeper, Jen.”

“Yeah, but what about the wildly passionate thing?”

“Do you have time to keep looking for that?”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“Maybe,” Sherri conceded, “Maybe it is harsh, but I’m just trying to keep you from making a huge mistake here.”

“I appreciate that. I do,” Jen picked up her coffee and took a sip, grimacing as the cold brew slide down her throat. She stood up and moved into the kitchen to put the cup into the microwave, “Listen, I need to go. I’ll see you Tuesday morning.”

“Fine, but I expect to be your maid of honor, and, I happen to know a fabulous place for your honeymoon, too.”

“Bye, Sherri.” Jen took her coffee out of the microwave and picked absently at the cinnamon roll that had gone dry around the edges. A dull headache was forming behind her left temple. Her mind was a churning ocean of indecision, and she felt exhausted. So exhausted.

“Just marry him,” she said, aloud, “Just say yes and be done with it.”

She crammed the dry cinnamon roll into her mouth, chewed vigorously, and washed it all down with slugs of lukewarm coffee.

Why couldn’t she just accept the life that marriage to Tony would offer, she asked herself, as she plopped down on the couch feeling like a slug. It surely wouldn’t be so bad. They would buy a nice home in a nice neighborhood. They would drive their family around in a nice, safe vehicle and take two vacations a year to nice, kid friendly destinations. What did it matter if he didn’t take her breath away?

Her cell phone started ringing from the kitchen, but Jen didn’t bother getting up to fetch it. She rolled over instead, facing the nubby couch, and stayed there until she became aware of a funky smell drifting up to her nose. With a sudden realization of all the things that might have happened on the couch, she jumped up with a cry of disgust and a strong desire to take another shower.

“What I need is a walk on the beach.” she declared, as she searched for her phone and keys.

She walked out the door and down the steps, checking her phone. Tony had called. He’d left a message, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to listen to it. Not now.

The sky was overcast and the warm wind had a salty bite to it, but the sounds and scents of the sea still made her feel incredibly alive as she strolled across the sand, her shoes hanging from her fingertips.

As she walked, images of all the boys and men that she’d dated flitted through her mind.

There’d been Michael, her very first love. A good, Catholic boy that she’d grown up with. He had been quickly replaced by Johnny, a Catholic boy that hadn’t been so good. Jen’s mouth tilted wryly as she remembered the many nights of youthful passion in his big, old car that had been parked just outside the circle of the streetlights glare. And, then there had been the college years, where a new boy had arrived almost as soon as the door had closed on the one before him. After college, as she’d moved into the working world, she’d had a more difficult time meeting men, but nothing that the clubs and set ups from friends hadn’t fixed. The one special one, though, well, he’d failed to show up, and, gradually, her wish list had been pared down to pretty much nothing.

When she had met Tony, she’d realized pretty early on that he was perfect, only, not for her. Still, she’d kept on dating him, figuring that that was what she should do. She was getting older and who knew when she might get another opportunity, after all. But when had she decided to settle for two feet in front of her instead of shooting for the moon and the stars? Didn’t she deserve more?

A trickle of sweat traced a path down her spine and she turned back. She stopped at the popcorn stand and bought a limeade.

Groups of excited kids dashed around the boardwalk, their exhausted parents following at a slower pace, with their sun reddened arms toting damp towels, plastic pails, and half eaten bags of cotton candy.

Jen wended her way through the crowd as she sipped her drink. She wasn’t ready yet to head back to the solitude of the rental, but being bumped and jostled as she walked wasn’t appealing either. She ducked inside a tiny, mom and pop pizza joint that had been there since she’d been a kid. It was still early for the lunch crowd, so the place was deadly quiet and dimly lit, which just happened to be exactly what she was looking for.

Jen slid into a booth, her butt catching on the torn, red vinyl that poked up, revealing the nubby stuffing beneath it, as the waitress at the bar caught her eye and started over to her.

“It’s early,” she said, as she dropped a menu in front of Jen, “I think they’re still working on stuff back there,” she gestured with a nod of her head towards the open kitchen, then leaned down and whispered, “They’re kind of old, so it might take awhile. I could bring you an antipasto plate though, if you want.”

“Sure, that sounds lovely,” Jen said, even though she wasn’t particularly hungry. She looked over at the bar, then at the watered down limeade, “And, I think I’ll have a glass of pinot noir, too, please.”

The glass of wine and the small platter of prosciutto, salami, pepperoncini, olives, cheese, and long, skinny breadsticks arrived at the same time, and Jen picked at the food while she toyed with calling Tony. She knew that she couldn’t avoid him forever. She picked up her phone and swiped it awake.

Singing suddenly filled the room, and Jen sat the phone down and looked around. An elderly couple danced out of the kitchen and into the main room. The man’s body was frail, but his voice was a rich baritone, as he swung his white haired wife romantically around the tables.

Though she couldn’t understand the words, Jen knew by the glow on the older woman’s face that he was singing her a love song.

“Sorry,” the waitress said, sheepishly, as she appeared at Jen’s table, “They do this all the time, I’m afraid. I told them they might drive their customers away, but they don’t seem to care.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Jen said, watching the couple enviously, “It’s very romantic, actually.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” the waitress smiled, “They’re my grandparents. They’ve been married for over 50 years now, and they still carry on like this. You can’t keep them away from each other.”

“That’s something special.” Jen said, wistfully.

“It is.”

The door opened and a family stepped into the restaurant. The waitress moved off to seat them. Jen’s heart ached with longing as she continued watching the couple swaying to his love song. She wanted what they had. She knew that now. Had known it all along, really. And what she had with Tony wasn’t it.

The old man stopped singing as he placed his hands on his wife’s cheeks and dropped a kiss on her lips.

Jen picked up and phone and dialed Tony’s number. She already knew what she would say, and she knew it was the right thing to do. She would set them both free. She would shoot for the moon and the stars, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less.

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