Mortification & Bliss

How does one deal with such a disastrous scenario? Here I was, dressed to the nines, and here he was on bended knee, ring in hand and covered in my regurgitated dinner. Dignity wasn't an option-- all tables around us were either staring, whispering, or choking back the puke themselves. Was it the smell, sight or sound that set them off? Just one glance around and I saw all eyes were on us, and characteristically, I ruined a beautiful moment by doing the wrong thing. I always got queasy when anxious, and right now, being center stage, made me extremely nervous.

Snow-white linen and crystal chandeliers faded into the background as I looked upon my boyfriend of four years before me as I sat at the center-most table in the restaurant. I was more than aware of every pair of eyes focused on the tableau he and I provided as an aperitif.

Dmitri was frozen on his knee, mouth agape. A lock of dark brown hair fell from its gelled haven onto his forehead. His best suit jacket was covered in prime rib, creamed spinach, wine and bile. I couldn't help but to think that I needed to pay for the dry cleaning, give him a back massage, and my undying gratitude for not throwing up on me in return-- I saw him hold back a heave with a shudder. By some miracle, my bomb missed his trouser leg altogether.

"I'm sorry. Please get me out of here," I whispered. I hated being the center of attention and curiosity, upset that I made a scene and completely destroyed such lovely intentions. The tears were welling up and I had no desire to make a horrendous scene worse.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern heavy in his accented voice. I watched as a piece of red meat slid down his dark gray jacket and the urge to pass out flashed through my mind as it plopped onto the floor.

"I just threw up on you..." Perhaps he couldn't see my Captain Obvious cape fluttering in the imaginary breeze. My eyes closed and I gripped the edge of the table as the new bout of nausea wound its way up from the twisting innards that couldn't be mentally tamed. My words must have assured him I wouldn't expire on the spot.

Dmitri smiled wryly and replied, "Yeah, I noticed." He stood up and peeled off the offensive garment. With great care he folded it inside out to make a neat bundle out of the purple silk-lined jacket. "I'm going to pay the bill, why don't you head out to the car? I'll meet you there in a few." Dmitri winked at me, trying to elicit a smile. It didn't work. I lacked the gumption. If only I could fade from view and slip out unnoticed. I needed to master that particular trick and channel my inner ninja.

As an afterthought, I looked down to my periwinkle blue dress and saw I missed decorating myself in regurgitation. Although it seemed repugnant, at that moment I wish I had covered myself in upchuck instead of the man who wanted me as his wife. I could easily bear self-humiliation if it meant giving Dmitri all his dignity back. That he could be so cool and collected after getting coated in dinner earned him more admiration from me.

A waiter in a penguin suit stood off to one side, signaling the bus boy to clean up. I guess he was wondering if I'd heave chunks on him too. My wine glass was still half-full of a rather decent Syrah, which I chugged in a most unladylike manner. Already have everyone's attention, might as well seal the deal for lowbrow dining at a quality establishment by guzzling my grape juice like an over-enthusiastic sorority pledge. Didn't care anymore, I already ruined the night.

Wine helped to rid my mouth of the astringent taste of bile. Standing up, I gathered my belongings and apologized to the waiter. I dug briefly into my purse and pulled out two twenty dollar bills. Were I in his shoes, an apology and good tip would be a very nice thing indeed.

Through the crowded dining room and out the exit, past burning stares and loud whispers, I made my escape. Caught sight of myself in a mirror behind the maitre'd station. My hazel eyes looked like twin pissholes in the snow. Out the etched plate-glass door and into the parking lot I went. The summer night had a gentle rose-scented breeze, which helped to clear my head, and the lingering nausea abate. Upon reaching the car, I realized that Dmitri locked it and still possessed the keys. As I waited, I rested my head atop my arms crossed on the Jetta and pondered why I would do such a thing at an important moment in my life.

I had expected Dmitri's proposal ever since my mother dropped broad hints a few months ago. The reality of the moment was so much better than anything I could imagine, with the exception of my oral eruption. My own version of Pompeii, except Dmitri was the only one smothered by the lava flow. Sigh. The giddiness of the moment may have played into it. The crowd of people staring didn't really help. But there was a stabbing moment of sheer panic and abject fright that I couldn't place as he offered the ring to me with such pride and love shining in his wonderful bright blue eyes. I loved the idea of getting married to Dmitri yet the thought of the wedding itself didn't sit well with me. It was the first time I ever felt true fear in the presence of Dmitri, yet it wasn't he I feared, but the nuptial ceremony. The thought niggled my mind in a way that let me feeling bewildered and apprehensive.

Footsteps sounded his approach. I raised my head, not caring that my elaborate hairstyle came undone and dark red curls hung in clumps to my shoulders. Every time I closed my eyes to blink, that one moment replayed itself in my mind. How could I look at him now?

There was no need for me to fret. Dmitri gathered me into his arms and rested his chin upon the crown of my head. Surely stray hairpins were sticking into him, but he seemed not to care.

"Honestly now, Kaylis, are you okay?"

"I...I don't know. I mean, yes, I want to marry you, but I don't know why I threw up. I'm so sorry, Dmitri. I didn't mean to ruin your proposal." In front of all of Chico, I silently amended.

"Kay, the only way you'd ruin it is if you said no." Somewhere in my rib cage, my heart began to thaw from its frozen state of fear. He took a step away from me, and I felt bereft of his presence. He reached into his pant pocket and drew out the box he had already offered me once. Now with my stomach devoid of any content, I suppose he felt safe in offering it to me again.

With slow grace, he unhinged the tiny rosewood cube, carved with ivy and flowers by his own hands. "Kaylis Woods, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" Even in the dark, the blue of his eyes shone bright. With a smile, Dmitri proffered the ring nestled inside the wooden sculpture to me.

"Yes." I didn't know what else to say, although wrapping my arms around him and squeezing with all my might did cross my mind as a more dignified version of an intense girly-moment-squeal-of-delight.

He slid the ring onto my finger and I studied it for a brief moment. A large cobalt-blue square-cut sapphire had a marquise diamond set on each side, at the mid point. Filling in the spaces between the diamonds were tiny round iolites in a watery lavender-blue color. The band was filigreed platinum, pierced so that light could shine through to the stones and make them sparkle with an inner fire.

Dmitri now held my fingertips prisoner in his gentle grasp. As I marveled at the magnitude of his gift, his voice caressed my ear. "The jeweler thought that the diamonds should have been mounted at each point of the sapphire. But I wanted them right where they are, at the compass points. I lived a life without you before, Kaylis. I felt lost. When I am with you, I know exactly where I am, and where I want to be. You are my compass and so I am lost no more. You are very special to me."

My heart puddled at his poetry, and as fast as an Oklahoma twister, I whipped around and wrapped my arms about his neck and kissed the side of his mouth-- he wasn't going to get a full-on kiss until I had brushed my teeth. "You are mine, as I am yours," I whispered.

At my passionate decree, I felt the terror re-emerge in the pit of my stomach, and I closed my eyes as it unfurled. I hugged Dmitri again, using the strength and warmth of his embrace as my shield against the unexplained and unreasonable icy-cold terror. His breath tickled my neck to sweep the fear away. No more than a moment had passed, and Dmitri was unaware of my silent mini panic attack.

I basked in the love of this man and whispered, "You are ten kinds of awesome."

Dmitri returned my hug and swung me around underneath the glowing halo of parking lot lights. We laughed and my personal Pompeii lay forgotten in our shared happiness.