Out of the Woods

Twelve Years Ago

We’re sitting in the parking lot of the fancy French restaurant that Caleb had booked for our anniversary dinner, missing our reservation. I borrowed one of Aunt June’s more subtle dresses and took the time to do my hair and makeup, which I haven’t in some time, and Caleb’s in his suit that I haven’t seen since our high school graduation. We look good. Too good to be crying and missing the appetizer portion of our rigidly scheduled, already paid for, five-course dining experience.

But that’s what happens when you get a call from your mom relaying the words from her doctor on the way here. Those six awful, terrible, no-good words. We’ve done all that we can.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I say, sniffling. “I really wanted tonight to be nice.”

Caleb lifts his glasses off with one hand as he uses the sleeve of his jacket to wipe his eyes. “What do you mean? This isn’t nice? I’m having a great time,” he jokes halfheartedly.

I knew Mom wasn’t getting better, I see it every day. She’s frustrated by the growing weakness in her limbs that keeps her in her chair or bed. There’s nothing worse, she says, than the combination of exhaustion and restlessness. She jokes with her physical therapist that the only thing getting stronger are her prescriptions. Still, when we’re alone, she asks me to pray with her. I don’t believe in miracles, and I can see her struggling with my own eyes, but I didn’t think we’d be approaching there’s-nothing-left-to-do territory just yet. I thought we’d have more time.

“Let’s forget dinner,” Caleb says at the exact same time I say, “We should go in.” His kindness only brings on more tears, proving that he probably presented the better option. Seconds later he’s out of his seat. I watch as he walks around the front of his car and then opens my door. He awkwardly maneuvers himself in next to me, lifts me across his lap, and then shuts the door behind him as I curl my face into the space where his shoulder meets his neck. He holds me like I’m a treasured, precious, delicate thing, drifting his hands up and down my back in slow comfort.

Eventually, when I’ve stopped crying, I sit up and begin playing with the collar of his crisp white dress shirt as a mindless distraction. “Sarah.” Caleb says my name softly, wiping a rogue tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Can I ask you something?”

“Mm-hmm,” I say, my voice low and far off.

“I had planned to do this inside,” he says, tucking a strand of hair away from my face after threading it between his fingers. “But I don’t want to wait anymore.” I look down as Caleb reaches into his glove compartment and pulls out a small blue box. “I want you to know, that no matter what, you will never be alone. That you will always have me. Sarah Abilene Green, will you marry me?”

He opens the ring box, and my ears fill with water. Or, my lungs. Or, the entire car? Inside is a white gold, solitaire ring with a square-cut diamond in the center that probably cost more than his tuition. “W-what?” I stutter. “Caleb,” I laugh nervously, “are you proposing?”

He nods eagerly, his tight-lipped smile thin as he swallows. “I sure hope so.”

“But we’re eighteen…”

“Just for a few more months,” he counters, his typical crooked smirk in place.

“You just started school and there’s no way your parents are okay with— How did you even afford this?”

“I don’t need my parents’ permission to marry the love of my life.” He says it so defiantly, in total contrast to his normal perfect son routine, that it admittedly turns me on a little. “And, I saved half and borrowed the rest from Opa. I’m going to pay him back.”

“I’m the only girl you’ve ever dated,” I say, giving him one last reason. “And I’m not easy.” Okay, two.

“I don’t want easy. I don’t want anyone else. I want you, Sar. I want to be the only man lucky enough to be loved by you.”

“Caleb, I—” I cannot help but smile, and when I do, he does too, joy in his features besides the remnants of the heartache we’re both still feeling. I cannot help but wonder if he’s asking me because of today’s news and, if that’s the case, I can’t say yes. “When did you get the ring?”

“Six months ago…and I’ve been waiting for the right time since. It’s been in the glove box for a while.”

“You’re so lucky your car didn’t get broken into…” I pause, studying his handsome face as my features are overtaken by joyful bewilderment. “Are you absolutely sure?”

He playfully rolls his eyes, his confidence growing as he senses my nearing resolve. “Yes, baby. It doesn’t matter if it’s tomorrow, five, ten, or twenty years from now—you’re going to be my wife. So why not do it now?” His smile fades as his eyes well with tears. He sighs, like every part of him needs relaxing. “It wouldn’t be right for Marcie to not be there.” He chews at his lip, staring off briefly. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes,” I say, answering both questions at once, smiling.

He grins but tilts his head curiously, like a puppy, waiting to be sure. “Was that?”

“Yes, Caleb, I will marry you.”

His grin blooms as he dives at me, kissing me senseless until I manage to break free, giggling and begging for him to put the ring on my finger. After he does, I use that hand to hold his cheek, and we do nothing but smile like total idiots at each other.

I didn’t know I could feel so many opposing emotions at once, but I do. Gratitude melds with bitterness. Fear and joy. Excitement and despair. They are all floating around in this old car, contrasting and overwhelming just the same.

No matter what the future brings…Caleb will be there.

There’s hope in that.

And I need some hope.