Part VII
Her squeals of excitement turned quite a few heads, as we approached Circular Quay. We were in Sydney.
“Bunny, look! The Harbour Bridge!! And there, the Opera House! Wow… this is so beautiful!” She put her arms around my waist while walking side-by-side, and I gave her a peck on the forehead.
“Look at you, you’re acting more like my little daughter than my girlfriend! Anyway, you have to make a choice now, do you want to go left to the bridge or right to the Opera House? Cos if we keep walking straight, we’re gonna get wet!”
“OK, let’s do the Opera House!”
Walking hand in hand with her, we were just like a couple out of high school. Swinging our arms, with her skipping every now and again, pointing to this and that and asking me to “Look, dear!” when I was already looking anyway. I was so glad that she was happy.
As we approached the Opera House, the familiar sound of a didgeridoo filled our ears. So we walked up to the aboriginals playing the unique music, which seemed to awe her. Was she never filled with excitement?
“Dear, I want to take a few photos, why don’t you wait for me at the café over there?” I pointed to the numerous white umbrellas sheltering a charming alfresco style café.
“Sure, strong latte for you? Oh no, better not, by the time you come it’ll be cold already. I’ll get you an ice-coffee instead ok?” Big smile. And then off she went like the angel she is.
Out came my camera and before I knew it, three quarters of an hour had passed. Oh no, I thought to myself, she must be bored! I threw my camera into my bag, conveniently forgetting to put my lens cap on, and headed towards the café.
I saw my baby sitting at one of the tables near the thoroughfare, with a very worried look on her face. Next to her, a pretty large built Caucasian man loomed over her small frame spoke animatedly. As I hurried closer, I saw that he was a photographer too, carrying plenty of gear and a very expensive tripod.
“What’s up baby?” I gave her a soft but reassuring peck on the cheek. Immediately she grabbed my hand, a firm grasp would be an understatement. She was obviously very flustered. I looked up at the man.
“Joshua.” I stuck my hand out sincerely.
“Lance. G’day!” and a firm handshake was the reply.
“I see you like to take photos too, hey?”
Slightly taken aback by my thick Aussie accent he responded: “Yeah mate, love it. Ya born here?”
“Almost!” That was the truth. “This is my wife, Chloe.” I looked down on my baby.
“ Fair dinkum! You’ve got yourself a pretty decent sheila there mate! Look man, didn’t mean any harm just now, thought she was a tourist, a good-looker too, and wanted to take photos and send them to her. Honest to God.”
He smiled. I believed him.
I nudged him to the side walk, and spoke in soft whispers to him. He nodded vigorously and beamed. Gave me a pat on the back and waited for my cue.
When I got back to Chloe, she looked at me with the most bewildering eyes. “Bunny…? Why did you call me your wife?” Her voice a little unsteady, either from the scare she got before, or from my remark, or both.
I took my stance on one knee, pulled out from my pocket a 50 point single solitaire diamond ring in white gold and looked at her. Her expression was priceless. And her eyes glazed over. Holding the ring with one hand, and holding hers in the other, I said slowly, thoughtfully:
“Chloe, you’ve only ever brought me joy, joy that I have never experienced. I want to be selfish and keep that joy forever. If you say yes, it means that you’re selfish too, because the joy that I give you is also unfelt of in the whole of your life, and you too want to keep it forever. Marry me, my baby.”
Tears steamed while by-standers looked on expectantly. I looked at her and smiled. I never thought this day would come, that I could propose to the woman I love without a doubt. Without a doubt that she would be the first person that I will see every morning, the only person to share my children with, the only person to come back to Sydney with, to this spot and relive this memory in our old age. She is the only one I have ever truly loved.
I sure was well-prepared. A clean tissue came out of my pocket to wipe her tears away. She wasnÂ’t wearing any make-up for it to smear, as I preferred her without make-up; she was a natural beauty, I kept telling her when we first started going out. A gently sniffle and she smiled.
“Yes, bunny, of course. I love you too much to ever lose you.” Oh no, I think I need more tissues.
I was surprised at the loud applause that ensued. Quite a sizable group of by-standers had gathered, even the didgeridoo player happened to walk by after his performance and decided to see what the gathering was all about! Of course, he started to play some lively tunes to reflect the happiness, according to him when I tipped him afterwards.
I slipped the diamond ring over her finger and kissed her gently. “You’re so beautiful, even when you’re crying. I love you!”
As the crowd dissipated, Lance appeared again. Chloe instinctively grabbed me tighter, as though the embrace we were in wasnÂ’t suffocating enough.
“It’s ok dear, don’t worry, Lance played a great part during my proposal just now!”
“Huh? What do you mean?” That bewildered look again, eyes still moist, slightly red.
Lance congratulated me with a handshake and a slap on the shoulder. “Here you go, mate, your compact flash card!”
“And here you go, for your time!” I passed him a fifty, and he said, “Get outta here, I’m not taking that. It’s your day today! You’re the man!!”
I insisted, we exchanged name cards, and heÂ’s expecting an invitation in the mail.
“How come your CF card is with him bunny?” She asked as Lance left.
“He was taking pictures of the whole event baby. And it’s all here, for us to look at when we are old and wrinkled, to remind you of how you agreed to marry a good man!”
She laughed, “I thought he was some crook! You’re so clever you know that! Oh, I’m so happy, and I want to see the photos can? Put in your camera now, show me on the LCD please please please???”
While I smirked and she giggled at the screen on the camera, seagulls were heard as singing, celebrating our love, the harbour bridge lighted up as the sun set, but our spirits remained high. As we playfully discussed the names of our kids, a waitress came with a slice of mud cake and a lit candle, and we blew the candle off together.
This was the stuff of dreams. The date was September Fifteen, Nineteen Ninety Eight.
~*~