8. Wake Up Alone #3
There were more photos of us together and I saw a look on my face that I barely recognized.
I was happy with Lola. The happiest I’d been since before my marriage to Rose.
The happiest I’d been in a long time. The truth was with Lola, time seemed to stop.
There was nothing but the two of us and despite the confusing start of our “situation”, we’d grown to love each other.
It was a love that had evolved slowly, but surely enough, it had evolved into a real and true love.
Poppy bounded towards me followed by her brother. When they got to me, red faced, they pleaded with me to take them out for ice cream. How could I resist? I got my kids into the car and started driving them to the ice cream parlor.
“So… Preston, Poppy, I have something to ask you.”
“Okay.”
“What would you think about daddy getting married?”
“Married?” Preston asked — he seemed confused.
“To a princess?” Poppy asked.
I chuckled, “Sure. In a sense.”
“He wants to marry Lola,” Poppy half-whispered to Preston.
Preston shrugged, “I like Lola.”
Poppy wrinkled her nose and asked, “Is Lola going to be our new mommy?”
I sighed.
“Not really. Rose will always be your mother, alright? I’m not trying to replace her.”
“Oh. Well I guess you can then,” Poppy said, “We like Lola, don’t we?”
“She’s fun!”
I grinned. There was my answer from my kids.
I wondered what Lola would say if I asked her.
If that was really the commitment she was looking for from me then hell, I was ready to give it.
For a guy, you have to understand, marriage would always be a big leap.
And for a guy like me that had spent years having any woman he wanted and as many as he wanted, I needed to give it extra special consideration.
But now that I had kids in my house, I didn’t think my old ways would cut it anymore. I wanted Lola… Just Lola. No one else. She was the woman that made sense. She was the woman that my heart yearned for above anyone else.
When the kids got home, I could tell they were exhausted because they barely said a word. Filled up on ice-cream and an unhealthy dinner, they’d just had the most exciting long weekend ever. That was perfect for me. I sent my compliant children to bed and then pondered my proposal.
For Lola, every small detail had to be perfect.
But on Monday, nothing was going my way.
I was supposed to have the day off but I got a call about a patient emergency at eight in the morning.
I called my emergency babysitting contact and then rushed to work — furious.
Today I was supposed to pick out a ring, get flowers and plan the perfect proposal.
Instead, I was putting out fires at the clinic.
(Though not literal fires, they sure felt like it…)
It was well after noon by the time I got done.
I had nothing planned. No flowers. No ring.
And a whole lot of stress. But I was determined.
I begged the babysitter to hold on a bit longer as I went to the nearest jeweler.
I thought about Lola — the woman I loved — and the engagement ring that would best suit her.
Look at me. I never thought I’d be the guy to go through this process all over again.
Love hadn’t exactly worked out for me the first time I’d tried.
And the thought of getting hurt stung. If Lola said no to me, I had no clue what I’d do.
But I charged ahead still, convinced that she’d say yes if every detail was done just right.
At the jeweler, I looked for a ring that matched Lola’s style, agonizing with the sales assistant and sifting through tens of rings before finally settling on one that cost me a cool $10,000.
Lola had her own money and so did I. I couldn’t ask her to settle for anything less. After all, she was my little princess.
After paying for the ring, I shoved it into my pocket and then took myself over to the florist. Lola loved all kinds of flowers, but her favorites were peonies.
The florist downtown was the place I’d gone to get flowers for dates for years.
Hell, I was practically her best customer.
The woman who ran the shop was a plump elderly woman named Donna who didn’t judge the different names on all the cards I’d ordered.
For Jenny. For Lola. For Candy. She’d seen me through all my exploits.
Today, I was settling down on one bouquet of flowers for one special lady.
Lola. Lola Hopkins was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
I was sure of that. When I asked Donna about peonies, I could tell she was curious.
For all the years I’d ordered from her small downtown shop, I’d always gone for the basics — red roses.
“Why peonies today Dr. Jagger?”
“Someone special.”
Donna clicked her teeth, “She must be really special then.”
“I hope so. I think I’m getting married.”
Donna raised her eyebrows and her cheeks flushed.
“You? Getting married?”
“I’ve been married before.”
Donna chuckled, “Now I had no idea. I thought you were more of a ladies man. Like that doctor on TV…”
I wasn’t familiar enough with Grey’s Anatomy to comment.
“I was a ladies man. But a ladies man can change, can’t he?”
Donna chuckled, “He sure can. And this lady of yours, she likes peonies?”
“Yes. Pink ones.”
“Classy flowers.”
“For a classy woman,” I finished.
Donna bustled around her shop, slipping a few extra peonies into the bouquet.
“No extra charge. I’m just glad to see you settling down Dr. Jagger.”
I was glad to be settling down. I’d gone through a hell of a lot in my life and the idea that I might find another woman to spend the rest of my life with had seemed like an impossibility. Tonight, I was going to ask Lola to be mine. Forever.
Armed with flowers and a ring, I still felt incomplete.
I had no plan. No idea of what to say. I pulled my small notebook out of my breast pocket and sat on a bench downtown, watching the folks passing by.
This had to be perfect. And if I had any hope of speaking from the heart, I’d have to write it down first.
I wrote until the sun set. I went over my words again and again until I was sure they were the exact words I needed to say to her.
My love, Lola Hopkins deserved a speech from the heart.
But as the sun was setting, I knew I didn’t have much time.
I had to get Lola to come over to my place so I could relieve the baby sitter and then ask her the big question.
I drove home and paid the baby sitter extra.
Preston and Poppy were close to bed time so I allowed them to watch a movie.
I called Lola and invited her over. She said she’d come but I could tell she was hesitant.
I didn’t hint as to why I wanted her to come over, so I knew I’d take her by surprise.
I’d put the kids down to bed before she arrived.
When her car pulled into my driveway, I suddenly felt my palms getting sweaty. I was nervous. Funny how that works. Emotions made me more nervous than anything: more nervous than surgery, more nervous than raising kids, more nervous than the thought of my crazy ex-wife.
When Lola knocked on the door, I opened it and was nearly blown away by her beauty.
To be honest, I was one of these guys that always thought black women possessed immense beauty.
Lola was graceful, with gorgeous skin and a figure that you couldn’t find on any other woman.
Her very essence as an African American woman was glamorous.
No other woman alive could compete — no matter what color or creed.
“Good evening Mark,” She said shyly.
“Come on in. I want to talk to you Lola.”
Lola stepped into my home with a shy expression on her face.
“You look weird. You don’t have bad news, do you Mark?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Bad news? I had the opposite. But I was nervous — and clearly, Lola could tell. She knew me far too well to let it slide.
“No bad news. Sit down.”