I started writing this post in January, when Alison came to visit. But then I got busy, and then almost died (more on that in a future post), and so it's taken me this long to do the final installment...
You may be moved to wonder, dear reader, why I have chosen to tell this story the way that I have: in several stages, some of which included some relatively personal detail. The answer is that everything about the way I proposed to Jill involved a very deliberate choice- all the details tied in some way to the story of how we came to be together. By now, if I've told this story even semi-competently, you can see that it is an unlikely story- a long and rambling journey of persevering, overcoming obstacles, despairing that the story would ever have a happy end, and then finally triumphing. And so I felt that the manner of my proposal should reflect that unique journey that we had each taken, both separately and together. Now that you know the whole story (or at least, all of it that's fit to print), you'll be able to see why I made some of the choices I made.
I also told the story this way because if you *didn't* have the relevant details, my proposal plan would sound like it came from a crazy person. Who knows, you may still end up thinking that by the time it's all said and done.
For that reason, I told no one the details of the plan. Only a few people even knew the proposal was coming: L, SP, and Anne knew, because they were involved in the procurement of the ring. (Which, btw, is a story for another post.) And Jill's best friend Alison knew, because I recruited her as a secret agent, to play a role in the whole event.
Alison, you recall, I first met when I went to DC that first time in 2006, to ask Jill if I could see her more regularly. And, she was part of our merry trio in Belize. So she had been there throughout the whole arc of the story, and I needed someone I could trust. So I called Alison in July and told her how I felt about Jill, and what my intentions were. I also asked for her blessing, as Jill's best friend. I was both honored and relieved that she gave it enthusiastically.
Then, I asked her if she wanted to play a role in the event itself.
Me: "So, my last question is: would you be willing to play a role in the actual event?"
Alison: "Wait, what? You want me to be a part of the proposal?"
Me: "Yes. I need someone involved that I can trust. You're the best person for the job, and, frankly, the *only* person for the job. Will you do it?"
Alison: "Well, what exactly is it that I would be doing?"
Me: "If you're willing to play a role, then what I need you to do is get on a plane to LA the morning of 8/25. You'll be flying back to DC from SF on Sunday 8/29. That's all I can tell you."
Alison: "That's all you can tell me because you haven't worked out the plan yet, or that's all you can tell me because you're not telling me anything else."
Me: "Oh no- I have the whole plan worked out. It's a complicated plan. But I can't share any more of the details with you."
Alison: "WAIT! Why don't *I* get to know the plan??"
Me: "Because, Alison, when you first encounter Jill, she will not be expecting to meet you, nor will she have any idea what's going on at all. Consequently, in those first moments when she meets you, if she has even the slightest idea that you DO know what's going on, she will waterboard your ass until you spill all the details. She is ruthless. She is relentless. You are her best friend- you *know* this to be true."
(pause)
Alison (laughing): "OK, I get it. You're right- she *would* totally waterboard me. Better that I don't know the plan. Actually, I think it's going to be kinda fun."
Me: "I promise you'll come out of this with a good story to tell. That's a guarantee."
Thus, having successfully co-opted Jill's best friend, I set myself to plotting all the details. I had to create a spreadsheet, and every night I would review the plan, start to finish, once from my perspective, once from Jill's, and once from Alison's. As I did, I would ask myself the kind of questions Joel would always ask when something was being planned: "OK, that gets delivered there? How does it get delivered? What's the backup plan? If it's getting delivered, that means it got made? When does it get made? Where does it live between when it gets made and when it gets delivered?" etc., etc.
By doing that every day for 3 weeks, I'd gotten to the point where I had a remarkably detailed spreadsheet, and I didn't really start relaxing until I'd managed to get through my routine of reviewing the plan 5 days in a row without thinking of some new logistical detail I had previously overlooked. It got trickier once Jill moved in; the spreadsheet, the ring, and many supporting items were in the house, and I had to make sure she didn't discover them. It was not easy.
All along, I had been telling Jill that since August 26th was the 4-year anniversary of the day we met, we should be sure to spend the day together, and maybe take a few days to go somewhere. I'd left it that where we'd go that day would be a surprise for her. And that leads me to state one of the core principles of the whole experience: I wanted to pull it off without ever lying to her. So, when I said we'd be going somewhere, it was true. When I said it would be a surprise, it was true. When I said that it would involve driving, and hiking, both those things were true.
As the day approached, I revealed that "our trip begins on 8/25." Also true. Jill made a spirited effort on numerous occasions to get details from me, by saying such things as: "How will I know what to pack if I don't know where we're going?" But I got around that by giving general advice, plus saying I would pack her stuff for her.
The evening of the 24th, I had Kiddo email me to ask me for a skype lesson late at night (since she was in Israel). We had just finished packing, so I apologized to Jill and said I'd need to stay up late "dealing with Kiddo" and loading the car, but that departure in the morning would be 8am sharp. Thus, Jill went downstairs to go to sleep.
After "dealing with Kiddo", who was excited to play this small role in the event, I began executing the plan in earnest. I had said there would be hiking, and that we would use as our daypack the fancy new backpack that Jill had gotten for me just after we got back from NYC. There was a very specific way the bag had to be packed, and it took me a while to do that. Then, I got out a couple things I had made in preparation for the day: first, I giant message written on a huge sheet of packing paper, which said: "Do you trust me?" Attached to the sheet, at the bottom, were 2 envelopes- one marked "Yes" and one marked "No". The one marked "No", when you opened it, contained a sheet of paper which said only:
Liar.
But you just had to open this one, didn't you?
The envelope marked "Yes" contained Jill's instructions for the next day. Why leave instructions? Because I wasn't going to be there. I was leaving a clue for Jill to follow. The clue was embedded in a discussion of how the next 2 days would parallel the unique way in which our story unfolded, and that therefore, the first stage of her journey would be for her to get into her car at 8am and go back to the very beginning. The very beginning our of story, as told in
Part 1, occurred at the Sportsmen's Lodge in LA, and I trusted that Jill would correctly identify that.
Having placed the sign and the envelopes on the glass door to the deck, I tiptoed downstairs with my stuff, Jill's stuff, and the backpack, and went out to load Jill's car.
Here is where the plan started to go awry. It is said in the military that no plan goes according to plan- that something always goes wrong. This plan was no exception.
I loaded the things Jill would need into her car: her suitcase, my backpack, which I had packed with two different hidden items, and, underneath the driver's seat, I hid the first letter I had written her but never mailed her, which I had written 3.5 years before in response to the letter she wrote me saying, essentially, that we could not be together (for a recap of that part of the story, click
here.) But when I closed the back gate on her Ford Explorer, the inside light refused to go off. Now, since the plan had Jill leaving in the car at 8am, on a very tight schedule, it would be a serious problem if her brand new battery got killed because the goddammn inside light wouldn't shut off. I waited, and it stayed on. I tried opening it and shutting it again. No luck.
Thing is, HMB is utterly silent at night except for the waves, when the tide is coming in. And the tide was out, which meant total silence. Plus, Jukebox the Territorial Terrier was sleeping upstairs in the living room, and he *loves* to bark loudly at any perceived violation of the house's perimeter, which, based on his pattern of barking, appears to extend northward to the outskirts of Seattle, southward to Tijuana, eastward to the Mississippi, and westward to the end of the continental shelf. Thus, I had to be careful not to close the door to loudly, or too repeatedly, because if Jukebox went off the gig would be up.
After about 10 minutes of failure, I decided to go take my stuff and load my own car, which I had carefully stowed on the street 2 blocks away, so that when I started it up, it wouldn't wake up anyone in the house. I loaded my stuff, and then crept back to the house, trying to figure out how the hell I would solve the inside light problem.
[Note: for the record, I didn't realize until months later that the back gate on the Explorer has TWO latches- one for the window only, and one for the actual gate. I must've inadvertently tripped the window latch before getting the gate latch, which left the back window cracked. And that's what caused the light to stay on. But I had no idea about that at the time.]
However, as I crept around the corner at the end of the block, I froze- the light was on upstairs in the living room. And in the kitchen. That could mean only one thing- Jill was awake, and was upstairs. Which means, she'd found the note. She was not supposed to find it until the morning, so that I would have time to make my getaway. At this point, it was only about 2am, so now I was really screwed. Plus, that goddamned inside light was still on.
At that point, I made an executive decision. I figured that if Jill was up, she'd come down to the car soon, and fix whatever the issue was with the light. Maybe the door just needed to be slammed hard. But no way could I go near the house- this was all going to end really badly if I got caught now. So I turned around, ran back to the car, jumped in, and drove off.
The first text from Jill arrived as I started the car. She was FREAKING OUT. I wish my phone had enough space to save all those texts that came, but the 3rd one I remember said only:
YOU LEFT ME
Uh oh.
I had said in my letter that Jill would have to trust me, and if she did, then at the end of a 2-day journey, we would be together on our anniversary. But, we each had to travel separately for a while, and that while we did, we would have no contact with each other. But, in this case, I figured I had to do some damage control, so I responded to her texts. I said I was already on my journey, which was true, if only by 5 minutes, but that if she needed me to turn around and come back, I would. But I hoped she would trust me, and follow the directions I'd left. Then the texts stopped. So, I figured either she was willing to trust me, or I'd just caused us to break up. Only time would tell.
Now, I will introduce the guest post feature of this part of the story. Both Jill and Alison are here this weekend, so I'll turn the computer over to them at various parts to tell the story from their perspectives. I think you'll enjoy it. Here is Jill:
"First I would like to say that it's totally rude that EVERYONE duped me. Gus' family is exempt from my wrath but MY OWN MOTHER AND BEST FRIEND. That is so wrong. Good thing Gus didn't say anything to my Kevin or Amy because THEY would have let on (because they love me). They are true and honest and will inherit my lottery winnings someday. The rest of you can f***ing bite me.
So this all begins with the original "lie" that Gus had to help Kiddo with some sort of project late on a weeknight. See, that was my first mistake, trusting him not to lie about work. Now I have to question every late night in the office with a "are you going to leave me in the middle of the night again?" Kiddo can't be implicated in this part of the plan because her innocence was clearly being taken advantage of. Poor Kiddo. Don't fall for his tactics...question everything.
So I woke up after I heard Booba bark (which is rare in the middle of the night since he's usually up my ass passed out for 14 hours at a time) and thought that the lack of hearing voices (Gus and Kiddo--not the ones in my head) and keyboard clacking meant that Gus was either asleep on the couch or reading another 150 page Paul Krugman editorial. I wandered upstairs and he was nowhere...not on the computer nor on the couch, not in any of the spare rooms or bathrooms. I went outside and his car was gone. I was baffled. I checked the time. Where could he have gone that late? I sat for a few seconds wondering WHAT THE FUCK. Then I started texting. Nothing. Then after hateful pleas he confirmed that he had left and that I was going to have to figure it out. Figure out what? THAT YOU ARE A BIG FAT JERK? Done. Got it.
I went to my car and searched it. I looked through our bags. I looked through the house and even tried to call up his internet history. I found nothing and the goddamn computer was password protected. Hello Anger...my long lost friend. Oh how conveniently you have shown up at a time like this. Let's have a drink and catch up.
It was after some angry stomping around the house, cursing every breath that I discovered the poster on the glass door. I opened the YES envelope first. Read his treatise on "If you love me enough you'll find all the horcruxes and save the world"; threw that on the floor and read the "NO" envelope. This didn't help the anger level. Welcome to the red zone. I lay in bed FOR HOURS crying and angry and vowing to refuse his gauntlet and just stay at home. I got maybe an hour sleep. I spent the wee hours plotting my revenge.
The first clue wasn't too hard. Go back to where we began? Well DUH even I am smart enough to figure that out, Professor Snape. Maybe that's all there is to it...Los Angeles was easy enough. I could get there. I could wring your neck and be at Baja Cantina by 8. Done. You're on.
By 6 AM I couldn't come up with any unique ways to punish him. I was stuck on the idea of imposing celibacy on him for the next few years---say 100. It was actually a more complex plan than that but given that this is a family show I'll refrain from details. If you have ever heard of the Marquis de Sade you should know that he's got nothing on me."
Now, as the editor of this story, I would like to point out one important thing about the above re-telling: that I *never* lied to Jill. As I said earlier, that was one of the core elements of the plan- that everything be accomplished without once having to lie to her. I was extremely careful about that. Consequently, I asked Kiddo to email me saying she needed to skype with me, and when she did, I said to Jill: "Kiddo wants to skype with me tonight." And by the time I said it, it was true. Anyway, back to the story...
Meanwhile, at about 230am CA time Alison was on her way to the DC airport, to get on her flight to LA. I had to start texting her the news about Jill's state of mind. Alison's flight routed through Dallas, and had her on a couple hour layover that coincided with the 8am departure time that Jill was instructed to follow. I told Alison to communicate with Jill during that time, and make sure that Jill was headed to the right destination.
Alison had multiple roles in the plan, and one of them was to be the outside check that Jill was on track and correctly following the clues. Another was to keep tabs on Jill's state of mind. I told her that the 8am communication with Jill would be instrumental on both counts.
I had also snail mailed Alison an envelope with more detailed instructions for what would happen at the Sportsmen's Lodge. The way I envisioned the plan working was that Alison would arrive at the Lodge before Jill (who would be driving all the way from SF, departing in morning rush hour), and place another envelope with another clue in it into the room I had reserved for Jill. In fact, I had spent some time on the phone with a woman at the Lodge, going back into the records from 2006 to figure out which exact room I had rented, and I had that exact room rented in Jill's name. I also had a room rented in Alison's name, and arranged with the woman at the Lodge that Alison would be allowed to place the envelope in Jill's room before Jill arrived.
The envelope contained another riddle, which was that Jill would have to go to the exact spot that our story began. That spot was beside the pool, and I sent Alison a picture of the pool area, and circled on it where she should set up camp. I figured Alison would beat Jill to the Lodge by a couple of hours, so I told her to bring a swimsuit and a book so that she could chill out by the pool until Jill arrived. Jill, of course, would have no idea that Alison would be there, and I told Alison to be careful when she made the 8am communication from Dallas. Finally, I also told Alison to say to Jill when she first arrived, that she should look under the driver's seat of her car, where I had left something for her.
Of course, the Sportsmen's Lodge part of the plan didn't exactly go perfectly either. Here to tell her side is Alison...
"When Gus called me in the middle of the summer to ask me to "help" him propose to Jill, I said "sure!!" I mean, of course, why wouldn't I want to be a part of a joyous occasion and enjoy a free trip to Los Angeles on Gus's dime? How much effort could this possibly entail?
I should have known, knowing the elaborate measures Gus had taken to woo Jill in the first place.
My first hint that this was going to be a complicated scheme was the 2-page long email he sent me with a description of my role in his "schemes and plots" (a direct quote from his first email to me on the topic). The email explained, in step by step detail, that my role was basically to fly to Los Angeles, get to the Sportsmen's Lodge, and make sure that Jill also made it to the Sportsmen's Lodge without ever letting on to her that I was part of the scheme or even in her time
zone. I was to arrive at the hotel before Jill, place an envelope on her pillow (an envelope that Gus had sent me via snail mail the week before), and then lounge by the pool until she arrived. Gus, helpfully, had provided me a map with a sticky note showing me EXACTLY where I was supposed to sit next to the pool.
This is exactly where I told Alison to be. Jill was sunbathing with Chris in precisely this spot (surrounded by a pack of admiring men) when I first met her.
Snag #1 occurred at about 4am EST, about which time Jill wigged out when she woke up to find that Gus had "abandoned" her. I woke up at the crack of dawn in DC to catch my flight, and I already had received a series of text messages from Gus explaining that the plan had hit its first snag. Jill was not amused and actually was quite upset at being sent on this mission. Gus used all of his powers of persuasion
to convince her to follow the clues he had left.
So, at this point, I knew that Jill was upset, but I couldn't call her and comfort her, because I wasn't supposed to know anything about this little adventure. Jill had told me that she and Gus were going on a secret anniversary trip--that's all I knew, from her perspective. During my extensive layover in Texas, I sent her a text message asking something innocent like, "Hey, so where is Gus taking you for the
super-secret anniversary trip?" At which point the floodgates opened, and Jill explained (using colorful language) that Gus was sending her on some treasure hunt and that she was NOT AMUSED. She explained that Gus's riddle suggested that she should head to Los Angeles to the Sportsmen's Lodge, but that she wasn't sure. She even had tried to hack into Gus's password-protected computer and had torn the car apart looking for clues and assurances. I tried to encourage her to "follow her instincts" and "trust herself," using every cliche at my disposal to push her in that direction without letting on that I knew she was on the right track and that, in fact, I would be there waiting for her.
At this point, I am feeling very very very guilty about participating in this little escapade, because Jill was clearly upset. I called a friend in DC and asked her advice--should I tell Jill the truth? I seriously considered spilling the beans to her and encouraged Gus to at least hint to her that "someone" would be waiting for her to help her. Gus immediately sent me a text message telling me to "STAY STRONG" and "DON'T GIVE IN" and "DON'T BE A PUSSY." I somewhat reluctantly listened to his pleas.
The plan hit Snag #2 after I arrived in Burbank and rented my car. I was waiting for the rental car shuttle when I received a text message from Jill, saying something like "I am 20 miles from the Sportsmen's Lodge. Gus better be there. Asshole." Again, the idea was that I was to arrive at the hotel before Jill and plant the envelope. Gus had told her to leave their house at 8am, but apparently his superb math calculations did not account for the fact that Jill would drive like a bat out of hell to Los Angeles. I knew I was going to have to improvise. I get my car and head toward the hotel. I am literally three blocks away when I get a panicked text message from Jill saying "Gus isn't here. Asshole. Do you have time to talk?" I text her back and say "I'm in a meeting, can you wait 5 minutes?". By "meeting," of course I meant that I was making an illegal left-hand turn into the
hotel parking lot. She proceeds to the hotel bar to wait.
I park the car and wander into the hotel, trying to pick her out of the small crowd of people sitting at the hotel bar. I wasn't sure how to announce my presence, so I just walked up to her and said hi. At which point she bursts into tears and says, "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TRYING TO DO TO ME?"
From this point on, I became Gus's puppet. He sent me a text message with instructions for Jill, and I communicated them to her. My primary duty, however, was to make sure that Jill made it through the afternoon and evening without vomiting, screaming, crying, or deciding to drive off to Mexico. On several occasions, Jill made comments like "There better be a FUCKING CARTIER DIAMOND at the end of this scavenger hunt." I stayed mum on this point."
And now, here's Jill's re-telling of this part of the story:
"So I get out of bed. Angrily throw my shit together and then grumpily stand in line for Starbucks. It was a Wednesday before work hours and all the locals were getting their lattes to start their day. Smiling, chit chatting, enjoying a beautiful HMB day. I was just starting my revenge, and triple venti mocha with extra whip topped with spite was a good way to start. An hour later I had hit the 5 and at 95 mph, I was well on my way.
On the way over the hill from HMB I texted Alison that our surprise, romantic weekend had turned into an angry, tear-filled disaster and that I was on my way to LA. Yes it was sort of cute that Gus wanted to meet at the place we met. Ok, I'll give him a few gold stars on being cute but...I couldn't get over being ditched in the middle of the night. She thought it was cute and I thought to myself "WHO IS SHE RIGHT NOW?" (She's a traitor, clearly.) So I get a few messages from her throughout the day asking me how it's going. I appreciated her interest. Kevin though was sympathetic; although he too thought it romantic. I still needed convincing. I called my mom and got her machine. EVERYONE let me down. WHERE was my MOMMY? WHERE?! Hmmmm....I wonder…
I made it close to Santa Clarita and I texted Alison that I was almost there. She responded: "wow you made good time." YEAH I DID. I couldn't drive fast enough. I got to Sportsman Lodge, snapped a pic with my phone, and texted it to Mr. Asshole who had promised he would refuse to answer me.
(The text I got from Jill. Plan is proceeding somewhat shakily, but proceeding nonetheless...)
Fine...then you can view the progression of my photographic journey of pain. I get to the front desk and am at a loss:
"Uh...um...is there a room in my name?"
"Let me see. What's your name?" said the victim behind the counter.
"Jill Morris...I mean Gus Mattammal...I mean...what about a message?"
"Yes...I see…wait just a moment please"
waiting...WAITING...W.A.I.T.I.N.G
"Oh yes, Miss Morris (SMILE) we have a room for you (SMILE) but it's not ready yet (SMILE). I can give you a key to the pool if you'd like to wait (SMILE)?"
"Fine. I'll wait at the pool. How long?"
"It will be ready at 3"
At this point I call Lori. She and Eric are dog sitting at the beach house and since EVERYONE ELSE ISN'T PLAYING ALONG I needed empathy. I got it. I told Lori about my night and day and I cried. She cried too. I felt better--promised to call with an update. Where's the bar? I get there and order a beer...then another. I text Alison that I need to talk. She writes back "give me 5 minutes". That's fair. She's at work. I've probably been way too dramatic over this and she's a good friend to listen anyway. Ah...booze...I feel better already. BTW where is that MF Gus?!
I sip my beer. It's hot. The folks at the pool are having fun. I am at a loss. What next. WHAAAAAAT NEXT?
"BEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"
The part of my brain that is recognizing the sound but can't compute the reality starts to quiver! I turn around. There, on the other side of the pool fence, is Alison. Smiling. SMILING.
"Uh, W H A T R U D O I N G H E R E?! !?" I stutter.
(SMILING)
"SURPRISE!"
Gus had flown her out. Um, why? How? Wait? You were emailing me from work? DOH! Foiled by the false pretense of the BLACKBERRY. BASTARDS. EVIL.
I cried.
I really cried. Then Alison cried. I ordered another beer. A whole separate, thick layer of weird was just slathered on this. I text Lori. I text Free. I text Kevin. I text Paul and Susan. I am OUT OF MY LEAGUE HERE. AND WHERE THE HELL IS MY MOTHER!?
Alison checks in the hotel and immediately I take to interrogating her in the best Ice-T as Law & Order’s Detective Fin technique I got. She clearly doesn't know much. She hands me another letter from Gus in the tell-tale Advantage Testing grey linen envelope. I follow directions and proceed to go rip my car apart. There it was, the envelope under the seat. DIDN'T I LOOK THERE ALREADY!?!?!?! DAMMIT.
Drat. He's too smart. He's really outdone himself. Hmmm. Jerk. We go to our rooms. I throw my shit all over the place. I stomp around. I need more beer. We go to the pool to dissect. We eat nachos. We drink beer. It's time to call in the SWAT team. We meet Paul and Susan for dinner at Nook. I love Nook. It holds some awesome memories. Paul is well connected there and I need comfort and I get it. Paul and Susan never disappoint in their ability to be rational, funny and comforting. I can't eat. I couldn't even talk straight. We hypothesize about what could happen.
Me: "I bet that bastard makes me hike Angel's Landing. He always said he wanted to do it and I always refused. Damn me and my big mouth. Ugh. Just UGH.”
In a moment of unintentional clairvoyance Susan says "I hope there's a big diamond at the top of that mountain". I tell her no. We aren't ready for that."
Back to my side of the story:
So, all things considered, Day 1 of the plan was a success- Jill had gotten to the place I wanted her to get to, she'd found and read the letter I'd hidden for her under her seat in the car, and I'd successfully planted her best friend there as emotional support. And, of course, to play double agent for me.
Meanwhile, I arrived in Las Vegas late that Wednesday night- well, technically arriving at almost 1am Thursday. After an adventure getting to my hotel, I had more adventures trying to check in (finally get checked in after an absurd wait, find when I get to my room and put down my bag that I've been stuck in a smoking room, call downstairs and ask to be switched, they say to wait there and they'll send up someone with a key to a different room, I go out in the hallway to wait since the room itself smells disgustingly like smoke, then after 10 minutes, with no one yet arrived with a new key, I hear the phone ring inside the room. I try to go answer it, except that I discover I neglected to bring the room key out into the hall, so I'm now locked outside and my bag is still _inside_. So I'm forced to go down to reception, have to wait an absurd amount of time *again*, and discover the bellboy left a few minutes ago to take a new key for the new room. I get assigned to a third room, then have to get *another* key to the original room so I can retrieve my bag.)
Finally ensconced in my room, at shortly before 2am, I started writing the clues for Thursday and assembling them for placement. By the time I had everything written, had procured some supplies I needed from the local 24hr drugstore, had assembled everything properly, and had reviewed the plan for Thursday again, it was 430am. And I had to be up at 6am. Thus went my 2nd consecutive night of essentially no sleep.
An hour and a half later, I awoke to verify with Alison that Jill had received the next set of instructions, which had her headed to Burbank airport to check in at Southwest. Neither she nor Alison knew what the destination would be, but I was clear about what time Jill would need to be at the airport. Once there, she discovered at check-in that she was scheduled to be on the 9am flight to Las Vegas.
While Jill was in the air, I'd gotten my own stuff together and went down to the Advantage Rent-A-Car at McCarran airport, where I'd rented 2 cars- one in my name and one in hers. I picked up my car, and while at the counter, I explained to the women working there that I had rented a car for my girlfriend, and that it was our anniversary, and that I'd been leading her on a multi-day, multi-state scavenger hunt, and I needed to leave the next clue there at the car rental place. The women were all tickled pink to help out, and so they hung the envelope with the next clue on the bulletin board in the back office.
The clue at Advantage was this: that the first stop on her journey related to the first episode of our relationship- the weekend we met. I told her that she was close to me now- we were in the same city. But where in Las Vegas was I? I told her that she would know where I was by thinking about the *second* phase of our relationship. Figure out where that was, and she would know where in Las Vegas to go.
The second phase of our relationship, as told in an earlier episode, occurred when we had 3 dates in New York City (read about that part of the story
here.) I had chosen a very nice hotel room for us in the New York, New York hotel and casino, and was counting on Jill to be able to figure that out.
I texted Alison to tell Jill that when she landed, she should proceed to the Advantage desk and pick up the car in her name, and the clue which would be on the bulletin board in the back office. Then, I jumped in my car and began making my way north.
To Zion.
Now, at some point early in our relationship, Jill noticed that I had many pictures of the Angel's Landing hike in Zion National Park. Somehow it came out that I've done that hike with every long-term girlfriend I've ever had- Tasha, Sarah, Nacole, and Keiko. I've also done the hike with 3 of my groomsmen- Laszlo, Jeffrey, and Ed. Jill observed that I'd broken up with every girl I'd ever taken up there, and so she vowed that she would never, ever, EVER let me take her up there.
On my way out of town, I had to pull off the highway and into a parking lot so that I could make a couple of work-related phone calls. I figured that would be OK, since it was only 930am, Jill's flight didn't land until 10am, and then she'd have to get to the car rental, figure out the clue, get to the hotel, check in, and then find the clue I'd left for her in the hotel, which was a brief note on the bed telling her to look in the bottom of the main compartment of my backpack. I had hidden there, in a gray bag the same color and material as the inside compartment, the second letter I'd written her 3.5 years ago and never mailed, which I wrote the morning after Chris and John's wedding. I included with that letter instructions sending her to Zion. I figured by the time she got to the hotel and read the letter, Jill could not depart Vegas earlier than 1130am, and that therefore I had about a 2.5 hour head start on her. That's 150 minutes.
30 of those minutes I burned making work calls. 20 of those minutes I burned getting back onto the freeway, since it turns out I chose very poorly which exit to randomly get off on. I ended up wandering around North Las Vegas for a bit before I finally got back onto the 15 north.
I also was rapidly becoming famished, since I hadn't had a meal in the last 18 hours by that point, so when I got to St. George, Utah, I pulled into the In N Out and waited in the longest drive-through line in the history of fast food. I burned 20 minutes there. I got back on the freeway and continued along, although I was driving much more conservatively now since I was eating. In fact, I was so focused on eating that I missed the exit for Zion, and didn't realize that I'd missed it until I came to the north entrance to the park, which is not connected by road to the main section of the park, but is connected to the 15 freeway. It was there that I discovered that I'd missed *both* possible turnoffs to the main park entrance, the southern one (the first one I passed), and the northern one. Finding that out from the rangers at the north entrance cost 10 minutes. I then burned an additional 10 minutes getting back to the northern turnoff. That's 90 of my estimated 150 minutes of margin already burned.
At that point, just as I was getting on the north turnoff, I got a text from Alison saying that Jill was just a few miles away from the southern turnoff, and that she had left at *11*, and was driving like a woman possessed.
Uh oh.
If she left at 11, that means I'd only had *120* minutes of margin, plus I'd assumed she'd be driving no more than 5 mph over the speed limit, which seemed to be her normal approach to driving. If she was just a few miles away from the southern turnoff, it meant my lead on her was down to as little as 10 minutes.
Shit. Shitshitshit.
I drove like a bat out of hell on the windy northern approach to the main gate of Zion. I made reckless passes, drove 15-20 mph over the speed limit, and got to Springdale, which is the town outside the mouth of Zion, in record time. I was helped a little by having familiarity with the road, familiarity with the town, and the advantage of the northern route into the park being slightly shorter and straighter than the southern route in.
I parked my car in Springdale and took the Zion shuttle to the Visitor's Center. There, I went to the backcountry desk and again gave my spiel about the scavenger hunt, etc etc to the two 22-year-olds who staffed the desk. I told them my girlfriend would probably arrive within the hour, and then went to catch the shuttle to the Angel's Landing trailhead. From the shuttle, I sent the last text to Alison, telling her to send Jill to the backcountry desk at the Visitor's Center.
At that point, I was deeply worried that Jill was as little as 10 minutes behind me. Thus, when I got to the trailhead, I started moving *fast*.
Here now is Jill's recounting of getting to the trailhead:
"That night I barely slept. My latest instructions tell me that I'll get more instructions at 6:30 AM. Yeah well, bite me. I lay awake...in the same goddamn room he stayed in at JOC and Vanessa’s wedding. Damn him. DAMN HIM. And how did he manage all this. I mean this IS Gus...the man who jumps out of planes, nearly gets swept out to sea, pukes on the BART, gets a $250 parking ticket, etc, etc.
6 AM instructions: go to the Burbank airport.
I look at my stuff and repack. I consolidate all my stuff into MY backpack because the one he sent with me is his and it’s so big and bulky and not necessary. Mine is packed solid. No room for anything else. I wake up Alison who seems excited and yet complacent. I ask her when she’s leaving, etc. WAIT...what? You are flying OUT of SFO? WHY? WHHHHHHHHHY? Hmmmm....BASTARDS...all of you.
I get to Burbank in record time. I miss the cheap parking. F-It...I don't have time to think. I open my trunk and realize..."wait if I have Gus' backpack...what is HE carrying?" Then I start to feel bad...that I had over reacted. Clearly the guy had put A LOT of effort in this. I thought I'd be flying to NYC for our "second date". So I guess I should take his pack to him. I just picture him carrying all his stuff in a plastic Safeway bag (and I wound up being right about that). Awww...my soft side kicks in. FINE. I repack into HIS pack.
I get to the Southwest Terminal. Check in. Flight to Las Vegas. LAS VEGAS? huh? This doesn't make sense. We've never been there. We've hardly even talked about Las Vegas.
WAIT.
Nevada. I check the maps in the Driod. Vegas is only a couple of hours drive to UT...ZION.
Dick. I have you figured out. HA. I GET IT. TPPPPPPPHHT.
I get to Vegas. I text in my status. I am told to go to the rental car counter. Much like my experience at the Sportsman Lodge, it went like this:
"Hi...uh...do you have a car in my name...Jill...Morris?" (awkward smile)
"Uh. Let me see....hmmm...Where are you staying?"
"Uh....uh....my BF made the reservation. Is there a message for me?"
"Huh? Oh....wait...YOU"RE THE ONE! YOU'RE THE....”(SMILE, SMILE, SOMETHING IN SPANISH TO THE GIRLS IN THE BACK). Everyone piles out of the office smiling at me.
I am forced to tell them the story. They are smiling. I am not.
"He was just here about 45 minutes ago...you can probably catch up to him."
AH. HA. The HEAT is on!
She's typing away and another lady hands me an envelope. I read the letter from Gus.
What?
Huh?
I don't get it.
I look at the clerk in dismay.
"WHAT DOES IT SAAAAAAAAY?!!?!?!?!?!" (SMILE) She sings.
I explain that it says that I need to go to the place where we had our first date. But we had our first date in NYC...at a French bistro on the upper east side. NOTHING ABOUT VEGAS SCREAMS FRENCH BISTRO ON THE UPPER EAST SIDE. I DON'T GET IT. It doesn't make sense. It was NYC. NEW. YORK. CITY.
The clerk was all smiles. Her co-worker was all smiles. I felt really vulnerable.
THAT'S IT! I can't figure it out. I give up. This is too hard. I am tired and hungry and tired and tired. No. I am dumb. I don't deserve you. I am not smart enough for you. I failed. I FAILED.
I start to tear up and the clerk looks sad:
"WAIT...you had your first date WHERE?"
"New York…city."
"Hmmmm....NEW YORK...Where in New York?"
"Upper eastside of Manhattan. THIS DOESN'T MAKE SENSE."
"Have you ever been to Vegas?"
"Well, YES a dozen or more times BUT NOT WITH HIM. I. DON'T. GET. IT."
"Well, I wonder WHAT he was thinking when he wanted you to come to VEGAS when you dated in NEW YORK CITY."
(Blank stare. Tears. Blank stare)
"Hmmmm. NEW YORK....HMMMM, VEGAS....wonder WHERE YOU ARE STAYING?" she says.
"I guess in a casino, naturally. Maybe The...maybe...(I rack my brains)...The...THE..."
She tilts her head in the most "sweetheart you ain't so smart are you" sort of way. I blink.
"NEW YORK NEW YORK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
She slaps the key on the counter while everyone cheers and says "GO GET HIM!!!"
I am furious. Half way in this ordeal and I almost lose it. I race down Las Vegas Blvd and snap a pic of NY NY, text it to Gus. HA. I AM ON TO YOU.
I get to the counter with renewed confidence:
"I would LIKE to check IN to MY ROOM PLEASE!"
The clerk types in my name and says "Hmmmm....seems you checked in yesterday."
BLINK, BLINK.
"OH I DID, DID I?!" She gives me a key and I race upstairs. I get into OUR room and I see Gus' stuff.
AH HA. I HAVE YOU NOW...jerk...wait...where are you...(looks around empty room).
There's a note on the pillow. It tells me to look in the bottom of his backpack. I look.
Nothing.
I look again.
Nothing.
I turn it upside down and shake the shit out of it.
Nothing.
I grab the bottom and pull with all my might.
It gives way. There's a grey bag in the bottom. It's the same color as the bag so I didn't see it the first 145 times I went in to that bag in the proceeding 36 hours. I rip open the envelope. Now I see that it's another sweet letter but I don't have time for this. I unravel the riddle and indeed I am to go to UT...to Zion. At record speed I change clothes, repack the backpack for hiking and gather my map to hit the road. It's mid morning and I don't have time to waste.
Now I have to back up here and tell you, dear reader, that not only is there all this drama and stress on very little sleep and no food, but also that the week previously I had injured my foot. REALLY BAD...probably could have used a stitch or two so I am limping a little. So I field dress my still smarting, gushy and bloody wound, so that I can go hike what turns out to be Kilimanjaro. At this point NOTHING is going to stop me from getting revenge!
I race to the car. I fly down the freeway. I hit AZ. I hit UT. I find the exit for Zion and I text Alison. SNAG. She isn't sure I am going to the right place.
WHAT? This MAP can't lie. IT's GPS, MF! Apparently Gus took a different exit. WELL AT THIS POINT I AM SUPPOSED TO TRUST HIM?! YOUGOTTABEKIDDINGME.
So it's finally determined I carry on. And from Alison's tone she gives away that I am hot on his trail. Finally her loyalties return.
I floor it. I make Zion in record time. I am instructed to go to the Back Country Desk. I do so to find a 20-something blonde chick smiling at me. I am not amused at this point.
"How long is it going to take me to get to the top of Angel's Landing?"
She's smiling.
"At least 2 and half hours. You'll need lots of water and here's a map that..."
I take the map and walk off. Run actually. I go and get the backpack. Look at it in scorn. It's big, heavy and it's HOT in Zion. Very Hot. Utah hot in summer hot. I hop the bus and have to rebandage my foot. Someone sitting next to me even mentions how bad it looks. YEAH I KNOW."
We'll leave Jill for the moment and return to my side of the story. I am now about to head to the top of Angel's Landing. Some things you should know about Angel's Landing:
Interestingly, Ed said to me in early August: "Maybe you should propose to Jill on Angel's Landing. You know, break the curse." I almost cracked and told him the plan then...
The Angel's Landing trail is about 2.5 miles each way, and ascends 1500 feet, 500 of it in the last half mile. That last half mile features chains cut into the rock, ledges no wider than a sofa with 1000-foot drops on both sides, and, at the end, a spectacular view of Zion Canyon. Even the first 2 miles feature super-steep switchbacks, including a section of 21 hairpin turns called Walter's Wiggles, that are pitched at an angle of elevation that makes you want to die. Having done the hike 7 times in my life already, I had a very steady pace for it- 2.5 hours up, 1.5 hours down.
On this occasion, fearing that Jill was right behind me, and might even end up being able to see me on the cliff face ahead of her, I made it to the top in just over an hour. I basically ran up the first mile and a half. And for that, my legs ached, and I mean *ached*, for days afterward.
But, I did manage to stay far enough ahead that I had time to sit at the top, drink some water, rest my weary legs, and work on my speech. I figured I should have a little speech. So that's what I worked on while I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I don't know exactly how long I was waiting up there, but I'd begun to get nervous. What if she'd gone on strike and just decided to wait me out at the bottom? I couldn't stand the thought that the plan would have worked only up to that point. But just as I was almost out of faith, I saw a head of black hair appear above the ledge.
And there was Jill.
Looking at me.
We simply stared at each other for a while from about 20 yards apart. I was sitting under one of the only 2 trees up on the top of Angel's Landing, which is a little scraggly thing that provides precious little shade, but does afford a view of where hikers first emerge onto the Landing, which is why I'd camped out there.
After a few minutes, Jill climbed fully up onto Angel's Landing and came over to me. I saw she carried the backpack, which I'd carefully instructed her to do. Now, where we were sitting wasn't really the best part of Angel's Landing; that bit was about another 100 feet or so ahead, just over a last small crest of rock. As Jill approached, I said- "Angel's Landing is really over there- I thought we'd do the last little bit together."
Jill lay down on the rock, in the small bit of shade, and we stayed there more or less quietly for several minutes. Then she professed to be ready to go the last distance, and so we went to the very edge of Angel's Landing together.
For a little bit, Jill told me about how she'd made it to the top, and how hard it had been. I wanted to give my speech, but there were several people around, and I waited for them to go. As they were leaving, I noticed a group of guys approaching, and I realized I probably wasn't going to get actual privacy up on top of one of America's premier hiking spots, in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the summer, so I bit the bullet and jumped into my speech.
I said that our relationship had involved a brief period of wonderful time together- both in the first couple months we new each other, back in 2006, and in the last few weeks, since Jill had moved in. Then our relationship had entered a long phase in which we had to make separate journeys of discovery, both from late 2006 until Belize, and again over the last 2 days. And in that time of journeying separately, neither of us could know for certain that we would end up together at the end; the only thing there was to do was follow our hearts, and follow what clues there seemed to be. But in the end, both then and now, we had ended up together.
At this point, I bent down and picked up the backpack, and started rummaging in the pocket where I normally keep a stash of pens. While I was doing that, I gave the second part of my speech, in which I said that I believed in the importance of symbolism, and that in her letter to me all those years ago, the one which responded to the 5 letters I'd written her telling her our story in the form of a fairytale, in that letter she had alluded to the many challenges of her life, challenges which she was still dealing with, and which made it not possible to accept what I was offering her then (in 2006), but which she felt she had made progress on and believed she would make more progress on in the future. In that letter, she used the metaphor of climbing a mountain, and said that she felt she had already climbed a mountain, and that all she needed to do was turn around and see how far she'd come.
"So," I said to Jill, "here you are. You've climbed the mountain. Now look, and see how far you've come."
The truth is, we had each climbed a literal and metaphorical mountain to get to that moment. I told her that being with me for life would not be easy, that there would surely be many times when, as on her hike up to Angel's Landing, she questioned whether it was worth it to keep on going. I asked that whenever those times came, she remember this day, and remember the decision she'd made to stick with me. I promised her that if she made the decision to stick with me, as she'd done this day, then there would always come a time when she'd look back and be glad she did.
And the last point I made was this- that in putting together this complex plan, I'd made a decision to trust Jill: to trust that she would follow me, even not knowing exactly where she was headed, to trust that she'd figure out all the clues, and to trust that she'd not give up, even when it seemed hardest. I wanted to have the opportunity to demonstrate how much I trusted and believed in her, and I wanted her to have the opportunity to prove to herself that she really did want this. Finally, I told her that everything she needed to succeed, everything necessary for us to be together, she'd had with her from the very beginning- some things she'd known she had: the intellect to figure out the clues, the determination and perseverance to follow them; but she'd also had some things with her that she *didn't* realize she had: letters stashed under her seat or in her backpack, for instance. And, I said, there is one more thing you've had since the beginning, that you didn't realize you had. At that point, I'd emptied out all the pens from their little pouch in the backpack, found the tiny ziploc bag I'd safety-pinned to the bottom of the pouch, and pulled out the engagement ring I'd bought for Jill- the ring that unbeknownst to her she'd been carrying for two days, across four different states and all the way up the mountain.
And so there, on Angel's Landing, I asked Jill to marry me. She started to cry, and then said: "Yes of course."
The group of guys who had joined us on Angel's Landing could see something was up, and one of them took some pictures of the event. I've included them here:
We are right at the cliff's edge. Either she will say "yes", or throw me to my death. Either way, I figure I get what I deserve.
She said "yes!"
Hooray! Now let's get the hell off this mountain before the storm that is rapidly bearing down on us from the left of this picture arrives...
Here to tell the story of getting up the mountain is Jill:
"I get to the trailhead and look up. FUCK YOU AUGUSTINE MATTAMMAL. I hoof it. I am almost at a jog. Back and forth, up a small incline, up another, slow down, get passed by an old Indian couple. Fuck. Nearly get passed by a deer. Damn. Tired. Hot. Thirsty. Limping. Hot. Slowing. Slowing more.
It's early afternoon and knowing how slow I'm getting I am losing my lead. Damn. I get to the ever famous switch-back Walter's Wiggles. Fuck you Walter. I have to stop every 6 feet and pant. The Indian couple waddles past me AGAIN. I've been on this trail almost an hour. I can do this, right? RIGHT?! SIGH.
I get to the sandy area just below the rock climb and I look up. Fuck and FUCK YOU. It's steep. But I made it this far. I've made it this far in life and it's not been easy I am not going to stop now. I am not going to let some crusty hill and smartass, funny man foil me. I am Hippolyta.
I start climbing. And by climbing it's really scampering carefully hand over hand over large and small boulders and sandy spots while clinging to chains. It's hot. VERY HOT. No cover. And the whole trail is a foot wide and the cliff is no wider than 10' in most places.
I reach the first apex. Whew. I am tired. I am sweating. I am determined. I look up to at least 50 feet of more rocks and chains. I start up.
I get up there and have to ditch the iPod. I can't listen to anything but the voices in my head that are cursing the existence of god, Gus and the sun.
I reach another apex and sit. How much more of this will I have to endure? Wait...Is that ANOTHER chain I see WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY up there? Yes it is.
I climb. I climb more. I skin my knee. I finish one of the bottles of water. I curse. I see a man coming down and I wait.
"Did you go to the top?" I growl.
"Yeah, It's not THAT much further." (SMILE)
Honestly, I am tired of the smiling.
"MY BOYFRIEND BETTER BE UP THERE GOD DAMMIT!"
Startled, the nice, graying, middle-aged man says "Oh he is".
I know he's lying...just telling me whatever I want to hear. He scampers away.
I look down. I think I may die. It's hot. It's REALLY HOT and I try to huddle under a scrawny tree. I am dirty, sweaty, tired, hungry, angry, scared. I drink a big gulp of water and then throw it up. Fetal in the dirt I think: "this isn't worth it. I can't do it. I am too tired. It's awful. I am not good enough. Maybe he should have married one of the other 6 girls that could actually make it up here. If I lay here long enough SOMEONE will find me."
Then I thought. WHAT IF HE'S NOT UP THERE? Something exploded in my brain. What if I get up there and there's another note. I. WILL. KILL. HIM. AND. NO. ONE. WILL. BLAME. ME.
I get up. I struggle. I slip. I cry. I stare at the thousands of feet of air below me. I see the top. I drag myself hand over hand up the chain. When I get to the top I see...
MORE ROCK AND MORE CHAIN.
There is no god. If there is a god he/she clearly HATES ME and in turn I HATE HIM OR HER (and Gus).
At some point shortly after that (or not so shortly since the heat has me blurry) I see that the rocks level off. I see a tree and I make it up to it and a flat rock. The horizon becomes flat and I see Gus sitting off at the distance. I stand there and vacillate on my ability to move. I know I can't run. I can't talk. I can't cry. He's standing there waiting MOTHERFUCKINGSMILING. Ugh. Death.
I can't move. I start to sway. I stand there a few minutes and stagger the last 30 yards to him like John Wayne at the end of True Grit. When I arrive he's SMILING and says:
"It's just a few feet over here to the end."
"IAMNOTGOINGANYWHEREWEAREGOINGTOSITRIGHTHEREASSHOLE"
How can he still be smiling? Oh that’s right, he’s been up here for HOURS (with his books and laptop, and water).
I see the smallest tree on the planet that couldn’t even shade a chipmunk and we park it right there.
It takes me a few good minutes to gather myself. This is the point where Gus is lucky I have ZERO ability to think or move or he would have been a memorial greasy spot at the bottom of the rock.
Me: stares out at the sky and rock.
Gus: smiling, rubbing my back, smiling.
Finally I talk:
“thatwasreallyhardandunfairandyouleftmeinthemiddleofthenightandflewalisontoLAand…and…and...”
I think at this point he went on and on about how he knew I could make it and how he was so happy that I was able to hang in there and follow his little plan.
Me: still staring…at this point thinking I just wanted to be back in Vegas in the AC, napping, eating real food.
As we sit there I manage to eat and drink a little more and share some trail mix with a very aggressive little critter. I think it’s the first time in my life I didn’t scream with delight to be within touching distance of something so squee. Screw you chipmunk.
So Gus convinces me to go closer to the edge (not a good idea if you know Gus). I comply because now I realize my revenge…he’s carrying me down. We take photos, chat, etc. There’s no one else on the rock. He goes over and digs in his backpack, the one I’ve been carrying and comes back.
This is what I hear: “BLAH BLAH BLAH…I love you….BLAH BLAH BLAH…I know that this was hard and you were upset but you made it, I knew you could…and BLAH BLAH BLAH (something about how everything I ever needed to get here I had all along).”
Now’s not the time for him to be poetic.
And I see a group of dudes coming up the hill. I look at Gus and he’s still talking and I look down at a ring. It’s very pretty ring. Very art deco, very shiny, something I would love. I think:
“wow, that’s pretty. He’s giving me a ring, that’s nice….”
(that’s right kids, I thought it was just a ring…I didn’t have the capacity to realize that it was THE RING—sigh—but it’s his fault my IQ had dropped 50 points from dehydration)
WAIT-A-MINUTE!
And I assume this is the part where he actually ASKED to marry me. In the 45 seconds it took me to figure out what was happening all I could say was “of course” to any and all interrogatives.
THEN IT HITS ME.
And I cry (for the 1400th time in 2 days).
Then I try to shove this gorgeous ring on my swollen like sausage of fingers. Voila.
WAIT…
WASTHATRINGINYOURBACKPACKALLALONG? HAVEIBEENCARRYINGMYOWNENGAGEMENTRING?
Yes.
Stunned. My drama cache is bankrupt. I can’t even register any emotion over this other than to tell him the story about how I ALMOST DIDN’T BRING THE BACKPACK to Vegas. At the moment of this conversation my engagement ring could be sitting in my car at the airport in California. THEN WHAT WOULD HE DO?
Also please note that when I was in the Burbank airport I poked around in the very same pocket it was in. Due to this incident, Gus has used up his ability to hide stuff like that in plain sight. Every crevice in his life is subject to my constant TSA-like scrutiny. Yes, every. Since then we have had several backpacks enter our lives- so far, no additional diamonds squirreled away. My oversight has 100% reliability now.
So, the dudes coming up the mountain catch what is happening (glad someone did) and snap our photo! Thanks! I LOOK LIKE BOILED DEATH.
Then all that drama disappears. I was stunned. He did an amazing job planning and executing this whole ordeal. He has NO idea how many times it almost all fell apart. He’s very brave. I felt bad that I reacted so hatefully, when all he was doing was executing the most ridiculous marriage proposal on earth. I am one lucky girl.
Really? You really want to marry me. Are you sure? Because you can have more time to think about that…
We sit and smile and cry and laugh and on the horizon creeping up on us is the biggest, blackest cloud in Utah. It’s about to rain on our parade. Not just rain either. It looks dangerous. Going down was easier or at least mitigated by the shiny rock on my sausage finger. Before we even got to the end of the trail we were picking out dates. But alas, the scheme had not ended..."
Back to me:
And so it came to pass that I tricked Jill into agreeing to marry me by waiting until she was near death from exhaustion and dehydration, and therefore sufficiently relieved of her mental faculties to say "yes of course" to any question I asked. Single men out there in the world may wish to take note of this strategy.
Sadly, there wasn't a lot of time to relax and take in the moment. We could see a pretty nasty looking squall headed down the canyon, and on top of Angel's Landing is not really where you want to be in a thunderstorm. Plus, we had to hike all the way down and drive the 2 hours back to Vegas that night.
So, we headed down the mountain together. As we hiked, Jill recounted the trip up the mountain for me. In a way it was all so very surreal- all the planning had paid off, from a big picture perspective everything pretty much went as planned, despite all the complexity, and she had said "yes." Mix all that with the exhaustion of all this activity, and a grand total of maybe 3 hours of sleep in the last 60 hours, and I was in a daze.
We got down the mountain, got to our cars, and drove back to Las Vegas. I had a bunch of people to call, and did the best I could- cell phone reception in the Nevada/Utah/Arizona desert is spotty. We pulled off the road in St. George to have a celebratory meal. I decided to take her to the place best suited to celebrate our new engagement:
Denny's.
mmmmm, Denny's. The St. George Denny's is a good one- I've eaten there several times. And anyway, it's not obvious that there are a lot of better options at 10pm in St. George, so don't judge me.
We finally rolled into Las Vegas quite late at night, and exhausted, we used the nifty in-room hot tub and then went to bed.
In the morning, Jill went out to do some shopping while I stayed at the room to do some skype tutoring. When she came back, she fixed me a look of daggers.
Uh oh- looks like someone has finally heard the last piece of the story.
You see, dear readers, some of you might have noticed a gap in storyline: I left the house at 230am on Wednesday, and then arrived in Las Vegas at 1am on Thursday. You might wonder where I'd been for 22 hours- Vegas is only an hour away from SF by plane, after all..
I left the house at 230am on Wednesday and headed to SFO to catch a 6am flight to Atlanta. It was from the airport that I texted with Alison, warning her about Jill's state of mind. I got on the flight, failed to get any real sleep, and arrived in Atlanta at about 230pm local time. I rented a car, and drove the 1.5 hours to Homer, GA, where Jill's mom lives. I arrived shortly after 4, and marched up to the front door and ran the doorbell.
After a few minutes, Jill's mom (Jane) came to the door. I could see her look at me, recognize me, and then look to the side of me, obviously looking to see if Jill was with me. She opened the door.
Jane: "Well, hello there.."
Me: "Hi Jane, how are you?"
Jane: "I'm just fine, thanks. Um, Jill's not with you.."
Me: "No, no, Jill actually has no idea at all that I'm here. She's on a little trip of her own."
Jane: "Well, what brought you all the way out here without Jill's knowledge?"
Me: "Jane, I came here to tell you a story."
Jane: "You flew all the way here to tell me a *story*? Why didn't you just pick up the phone and call me?"
Me: "Well, I think some stories are best told in person. I think you'll agree that this is one of them."
Jane: "Come on in then, and tell me your story. Though I kinda think I might know what this story is going to be about.."
So we went inside to the living room, and I began by saying that while I knew Jill had told her the story of how we had come to be dating from her perspective, I thought she might want to hear the story from my perspective. And so I told her all the things I wrote about in the first 5 installments of this series. It turned out that Jill had left out many of the more subtle details, so Jane seemed pretty interested. I ended by saying that I loved her daughter very much.
Jane: "That's a very nice story. Jill told me a lot of it- not all the details, but the important stuff. And she does look happier than I think I've ever seen her. But you didn't have to fly all the way here just to tell me that."
Me: "Well, there is a little more..."
And then I told her that it was my intention to ask Jill to marry me the following evening, and that I had come to ask for her blessing. I then said that I understood that once upon a time, another man had come to ask a similar thing, and that given that that situation had not worked out so well, plus the fact that Jill and I really hadn't been dating all that long, I wanted now to take the time to let Jane air any concerns she had, and ask all of her questions, which I would attempt to answer as honestly and fully as I could.
And so, the second half of our conversation was my addressing Jane's understandable concerns, and answering some questions about my own upbringing, attitudes about family and marriage, personal history, etc. It was very cordial, and I didn't mind answering any of the questions at all. When all was said and done, Jane did give her blessing, which I was very grateful for.
Jane: "By the way, how did you know I would even be home?"
Me; "Well, I remember Jill said you work half-days on Wednesdays, and I saw from the flight schedule that I would arrive late-afternoon, which I figured would be late enough that you would be home from work, but early enough to catch you before you went out for dinner or something. Truthfully, I didn't have a real good plan on this part- I really needed it to just work. And it did."
Jane: "Do you need a place to stay tonight?"
Me: "No, I'm actually on the 10pm flight out of Atlanta, so I can't stay too much longer."
Jane: "You're flying back out *tonight*? Well, would you like to get dinner before you go?"
Me: "Dinner sounds amazing. I actually haven't had a meal since... since I think dinner yesterday."
So we went to a nice dinner, and then I bade Jane goodbye. As we were getting ready to go, I said:
Me: "Like I said, Jill has no idea that I came here. And... I'm not going to tell her. If she says yes tomorrow, you will be one of the first people she calls. I'll leave it to you to be the one to tell her. It can be your surprise."
Jane seemed to enjoy that, and wished me good luck the next day. And off I went, on the drive back to Atlanta. At that point, I had now gone about 36 hours without sleep, and by the time I was nearing the outer edge of Atlanta, I was having to drive with the windows down, occasionally slapping myself across the face, to keep myself from falling asleep at the wheel. But I did make it back ok and on time, and got myself to Las Vegas.
Now, here's Jill again, recounting how she came to hear about this piece of the story:
"We drove back to Vegas calling everyone we know. I reached my mom pretty late and she sounded surprised and happy and said we’d talk tomorrow. I didn’t realize she was still in on it. We stopped in St. George to eat our first meal as a betrothed couple…at…Denny’s, of course.
It took me forever to get back to the hotel thanks to construction and traffic on The Strip. And when I got there Gus looked like he was about to pass out. I guess weeks of planning and hours of me hot on his trail wore him out. When I woke up the next morning he was already awake and before I was fully able to focus my eyes he said “so lets plan a wedding!”. He was up and calling his future groomsmen. I really didn’t need to call Alison SINCE SHE KNEW ALREADY! He had sent her a picture of the ring. I did manage to get the rest of the crew on the phone. It was reassuring to know that SOMEONE was surprised.
And then I hear the story about how he went to ATL.
Standing on Las Vegas Blvd near Barbary Coast my mom calls. I start telling her about the events and she asks me what my ring looks like. I started to tell her and then she interrupted me and said that she also thought the sapphires were more me than rubies.
WAIT…WHAT? IHAVEN’TGOTTENTOTHEPARTABOUTHTESAPPHIRESYET. How did she know? Wait? Did I post it on Facebook? Did I text it? Did I tell her last night? Nope. Gus told her.
WAIT? GUSTOLDYOUWHEN? “When he came to my house yesterday?”
“SHUTTHEFUCKUPWHAT?” Half of Las Vegas Boulevard came to a screeching halt.
After I got over my initial reaction to “oh god, I hope my mother doesn’t think he’s a stalker” I realized what a good plan that was. He was smart to do that. She was in on it all and now she’s gleefully smug that I was so duped by everyone, especially her. When I got back to the hotel he was on skype with a student. So I sat there staring with imaginary giant exclamation points swimming around my head and when he was done:
“YOUDIDWHAT?!YOUWENTTOGEORGIATOSEEMYMOTHER?!”
How in the world did he pull that off? HOW? That’s about as possible as me winning the basketball pool (oh, wait, currently I am)."
Editor's Note: As of this editing, _I_ am now winning the basketball pool, having taken over the top spot from Jill. Which has caused much consternation in our household, let me tell you.
We passed a blissful Friday at New York, New York in Vegas, having dinner at Paris, and checking out the local burlesque show. In the morning, we flew back to Burbank, and met up with Alison at the airport. Then, the 3 of us took all day and drove up the PCH all the way back to the beachhouse. Jill again:
"By the time we got back to Burbank to retrieve Alison I was spent. Totally spent. I only half enjoyed the ride up PCH to SF. Gus’ brother Mikey was in town for the night and as we recounted the story again Mikey said “did you tell Sweet Pea this plan because she never would have gone for this”. Gus is very lucky he didn’t tell anyone he didn’t have to. He’s lucky that my mother loves seeing me had over keeping his secret. He’s lucky that Alison didn’t doubt this union and tell me to run. He’s lucky that everything he wanted to happen did, just like he wanted when he wanted (don’t get use to that). But I am the lucky one. I am the one who gets to marry Gus (that is if he doesn’t change his mind)."
Final Editor's Note: The truth is, I'm the lucky one- I get to marry Jill, who is the most amazing woman I have ever met, and who has totally changed my life. This engagement story is complex, messy, and long. There were a million places along the way where it could have, and probably *should* have failed. But because of our determination, our love for each other, and the support of the people in our lives, in the end the story has a happy ending. And in that respect, this engagement story is the perfect metaphor for the relationship we have.
So thanks for reading it. If you actually read all this, you must be one of the special people in our lives. We thank you for that.
