Saturday, October 12

Today was the day. Saturday, October 12. The day we'd met.

Normally, we'd have coffee at 10:30 on Saturdays. But not today.

The crisp morning air felt wonderful as I hurried along the sidewalk, bypassing pedestrians, restaurants, and stores. The cold autumn breeze stung my cheeks with its icy caresses, but I paid it no heed. Today was the day, and I couldn't wait for it to begin.

At least, I was kind of excited. Part of me was also nervous. Anxious, maybe? Ecstatic as well.

It was hard to explain. I'd looked forward to this day for so long, and now that it was here, I was surprised to find I felt anxiety even as pure joy coursed through my veins.

But the joy definitely overpowered the anxiety.

Calm down, I told myself with a laugh. Caught up in my thoughts, I just in time noticed the absentminded bicyclist headed my way, eyes closed, and busily shaking his head in rhythm to the music blasting through his ear phones. I barely moved out of the way just as he opened his eyes and hit the brakes, bringing his bike to a skidding halt.

“Hey! Watch where you're going, man!”

“Sorry,” I mumbled, barely restraining myself from laughing.

The bicyclist nodded to me, and sped away.

I turned to continue on my way, but noticed my reflection in a store window. A smile was on my face, and my thick, brown hair was just as slick as when I'd combed it into place earlier this morning. My smile disappeared, and I stared at myself in the window, really looking this time.

I wasn't particularly handsome.

Or smart.

Or funny.

Or good at chess, for that matter. She was a bit disappointed that I hadn't even been a challenge to beat.

Why would she say yes? I asked myself, staring deeply into the reflection of my own eyes, light black in the window glass, although they'd been a chestnut brown when I'd seen my reflection in the mirror at my apartment not ten minutes ago. Why would she?

I shook the thought out of my head and continued on my path. Remember who you're doing this for.

Two-and-a-half blocks and five minutes later, I found myself at the corner of Fifth and Franklin. I looked up to see the rustic, wooden sign of The Green Dragon Cafe swaying in the slight breeze from where it hung right above me. I smiled at the familiar sight, as I gazed up at it—but only for a moment.

I averted my gaze to the park across the street. The trees were dressed in their autumn attire—orange, gold, and purple splendor, marked with hints of green—reminders of the late summer, now little more than a distant memory. The wind stirred up the leaves along the street as I walked across. I made my way along the footpath that wound through the park, taking two rights and one left before I looked up to see my final destination: a grand orange maple tree, towering high above all the others. I smiled up at it as the light of the rising sun peeked through its leaves. I walked right up to the tree and leaned against it, closing my eyes and breathing in the beautiful autumn air. I opened my eyes to observe the dappled patterns of light and dark dancing on the leaf-littered grass, ever-shifting as the breeze swayed the ancient maple, whispering wonderful things of love and bliss through its branches.

I glanced at my watch: 10:27 a.m. Good. Three minutes early. She should be here any minute. But then I laughed. Maybe I shouldn't expect her so soon. To say Fiona was occasionally late would be a huge understatement.

I loved that about her.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the smooth bark of the maple tree, listening to the sound of the wind murmuring through the leaves.

It had been an autumn day like this one a year ago. October 12—a Saturday. I'd taken an early morning walk. I'd felt down. My dad had been diagnosed with cancer—he had been everything to me, and he had only had a month to live.

And that's when she had entered my life. She'd noticed me, asked me how I was feeling, and bought me coffee. It was her kindness that drew me to her more than anything else—it lightened my dark world, giving me hope again. We'd both been seniors in the same high school, and we'd started hanging out. It'd taken a lot of courage for me to ask her out that first time, but I did it. And we'd been going out ever since, me falling even more deeply in love with her every single time.

Maybe this was silly. We were only nineteen after all, still finding our way in life. Were we ready? Why now?

I knew the answer to that question. I loved her, and she loved me. At least, I thought she did. And she was hurting right now. So much. She needed someone, and if she loved me, then I could be that someone for her. I could make her happy again.

And I wanted that more than anything in the world.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned.

And there she was.

Fiona was as beautiful as the day I'd first met her. Her golden hair hung in waves that shone in the sunlight, and her laughing blue eyes still transfixed me as much as they had that first time. Her heart-shaped lips curved upwards in a slight smile.

“Hey, sorry for being late.”

I smiled and glanced at my watch. “You're right on time.”

She looked confused. “You said 10:00.”

I laughed. “You consistently arrive one to thirty minutes after I tell you to, so I thought I'd try to get you on time this time. 10:30.”

She laughed. It was a beautiful sound, like a tinkling summer brook singing joyfully summer's song. It was a sound I knew I'd never tire of hearing. “Clever, Mr. Clark. Clever.” Fiona shoved her hands into her coat pockets as she looked down, biting her lip to keep from smiling even wider.

She looked up at me. “You wanna tell me why we're meeting here instead of at The Green Dragon?”

I hesitated. “Let's take a walk.”

She nodded, and we walked beside each other. My mind quickly went to the script I'd rehearsed in my head countless times, but it fell apart in my head even as I tried in vain to put it together. The words I was going to say suddenly didn't work, and I didn't know how to fix it. Convenient—just when I need that script most...

“Well?”

I glanced at Fiona, who was looking at me expectantly. I cleared my throat. “Um... Fiona, I know it's been hard for you—the past three months, I mean. It's really, really hard to lose someone you love. I know.”

She smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Thank you, Aiden,” she quietly said, looking down.

My heart wrenched to see her pain. “I didn't mean to make you sad.”

Fiona looked at me, and our eyes met. “I know.” She sighed, and her voice caught. “But Grandjack's gone now, and we should be able to talk about it, right?” Her voice caught, and she looked away again.

“He meant the world to you; you have a right to be sad.” I sighed. “I miss him too.”

Fiona reached for my hand and squeezed it. I squeezed back.

I took a deep breath, drawing all my courage. “I... I have a confession to make.”

She laughed, wiping at her eyes. “If you're finally going to say you're sorry for drawing that dumb caricature of me, then you can forget it, 'cause I'm holding that against you for the rest of your life.”

I smiled at the memory. “No, I'm not sorry for that, actually.”

“That's the worst apology I've ever heard,” she giggled, playfully shoving me.

“Sorry,” I laughed, “that's all you're going to get.”

Our laughter slowly died away, and silence followed.

“Sorry, what were you going to confess?”

“Oh, right.” I laughed nervously, my hands grasping the insides of my coat pockets. They were sweating, and I was starting to feel hot all over.

I spied a bench nearby. “You wanna sit down?”

“Sure.”

She sat, but I remained standing, staring down at my shoes. They were Nike Air Force 1's, my favorite pair. The shoelace rabbit ears weren't perfectly proportioned, though...

“Well? What do you have to say?”

I looked up at Fiona. “Sorry.” I sat down beside her. “Fiona, you're so kind, and—and beautiful, and smart, and... amazing.” I cringed at my own words. This was not the eloquent speech I had planned.

“Okay,” Fiona said, slowly.

“What I wanted to say was—is: I love you.” I forced myself to look into her eyes, and the sight of them made my heart flutter, just as they had countless times before. “I love you, and I'm here for you for whatever you need, whenever you need it. You can trust me. I won't let you down, and...” I paused, taking a deep breath. “well, I just want to say—“ I reached into my coat pocket, and pulled out the ring box and flipped it open, all while looking into her eyes, which widened with surprise. “I—I want to make you happy,” I said quickly. “More than anything in the world, that's what I want.” I fingered the box nervously. “And if you marrying me does, then I really want that to happen. But, if not—well, you don't need to feel guilty about saying no in the least. I'd understand—”

“Stop, please.” Fiona wiped her eyes, but that didn't stop the tears that were forming. “I love you too. A lot, I love you a lot.” She laughed. “I love you—and my answer is... yes, of course it'll make me happy. And yes, of course I'll marry you. Not that you really asked in the first place,” she added, laughing.

I threw my arms around her and held her close. I could feel our heartbeats quicken and beat in time. “Thank you.”

“Thank you too,” Fiona said, her voice muffled. “Thank you so much.”

I held her by the shoulders, looking into her beautiful blue eyes. “Everything's going to be okay.”

“I know,” she said, nodding. “I know.”

I stood up, holding my hand out to her. “How's coffee? 10:45 a.m. at The Green Dragon?”

Fiona laughed, wiping at her eyes. She glanced at her watch. “That makes us two minutes late.” Then she nodded. “Of course.” She took my hand, and I pulled her up.

We walked back the way we'd come, paying no heed to the autumn cold.

And I knew today was the day... a new life began.