Will She or Won't She?

WILL SHE OR WON’T SHE?

By Sheri McComb

I went through a mental checklist while checking out my reflection in the mirror. Ring-check. Reservations-check. Flowers-check. Nerves-check. Okay, that last one wasn't necessary, but I was feeling pretty anxious. Everything had to be perfect. Stacy and I had been dating for just four months, but I knew she was the one I wanted to spend my life with. But the same question kept going through my mind like it was on repeat - 'Does she feel the same way about me?’ 

We'd met by accident. You see, my name is Stacy too. Not the best name for a guy, but it was my grandfather's name, so I was stuck with it. I'd never loved the name, but that changed when I met Stacy.

I was in line at Starbucks and it was a full house. The baristas were hopping, bouncing around behind the counter filling cup after cup of beverages. The cashier that took my order didn't bat an eyelash when I told him my name, just scribbled it on a cup and took my debit card. I'd wandered over to the window, looking outside at the rain. When I heard my name called, I turned and walked over to the counter. I saw my latte sitting among three other cups and reached for it. At the same time a beautiful blue-eyed blond woman was reaching for it and we bumped into one another. I apologized and she said, "This is mine. I'm Stacy." I started to laugh. "Umm, I'm Stacy too.” Then SHE started to laugh. I looked at the scribbled ingredients on the cup. “Oh, it must be yours. I ordered a mocha light.” I stepped back so she could pick it up. Just then I heard “Stacy” as the busy barista set my drink on the counter. The other Stacy and I laughed together, sharing the private joke.

 I decided to take a chance. “Are you drinking your coffee here? It doesn’t look like a good time to leave,” I said gesturing at the pouring rain outside. She smiled and agreed, “It is coming down out there.” I pointed at the one empty table in the place. “Join me?” I asked. That was the beginning of our relationship. I felt like she was out of my league, but for some reason she liked me. I’m not that good-looking, at least in the classic sense. My face is average, my hair is brown and wavy. My eyes are green. I’d say my best feature is my smile. My parents had spent thousands of dollars making sure my teeth were straight. I’m also athletic. I was a wrestler in high school, and my current job was wrestling coach at the high school near my house.  She was a starving artist except for the starving part. She sold enough paintings to make a living better than my own. 

 I just knew Stacy and I could be amazing together. I knew she enjoyed my company and I hoped it went deeper than that. You see, we’ve never said the words. There has been no “I love you” between us other than the ones I’ve said inside my head, and I’ve said it many times there. You’re probably thinking, “Four months? What’s the hurry??” and it’s a valid question. Well . . . the hurry is this. Stacy has cancer. 

When I met her at the coffee shop, she had just left a chemo appointment and she was exhausted. Of course, she didn’t tell me this right away; after all we were just strangers sharing a table in Starbucks. That’s how it started out, anyway, but we clicked right away. She was beautiful, funny, sweet, and had a magnetism about her that couldn’t be explained. She didn’t mention the ‘C’ word during that first “date”. We talked about a lot of other things, though. Our families, our jobs, our childhoods, and even the weather, just to name a few. 

Our cups had been sitting empty for some time and by now the rain had stopped and the sun was peeking through the clouds. Stacy stood up and said she had to go and I casually asked if she had a boyfriend. She gave me a really serious look that I didn’t comprehend at the time, but I understand now. Having cancer, she didn’t like to get close to people so the boyfriend answer was no. I didn’t know about the cancer then, though so for me that was encouraging. Her look confused me though because I thought we had hit it off.

 “Can I have your number?” I asked her. She started to refuse, but I held up my hand and said, “It’s not often I meet another Stacy. Please give me your number and I promise not to be a pest. If you don’t want to talk to me you don’t have to.” She took pity on me and wrote her number on a napkin. She smiled and with that she was gone. I looked at the napkin in my hand and knew I wasn’t going to wait even a day to call her.

 I had to beg her to go out with me and she only agreed to being friends. I was okay with that at first, but wanted more. The chemistry between us grew and after we started spending almost every day together, she allowed me to kiss her. I knew then that she was the one. After that first kiss there were a lot more kisses and we became inseparable. I accompanied her to her chemo appointments and she came to my wrestling practices. 

Stacy lived alone and wasn’t close to her family. My family lived all over the country and my closest relative geographically was my brother who lived 750 miles away.  Stacy and I lived in our own world. 

About a month after we met, she told me about the cancer. I was devastated. I cried and that made her cry until both of us were laughing at the other. I’ve come to terms with it, at least to the point where I don’t cry any more. There will be time for crying later. After.

 I couldn’t bear to think about it so I pushed it out of my mind and thought about tonight. I’d made reservations at The Treehouse which was a restaurant literally built in a tree.  It was almost impossible to get in, but I coached the owner’s son, so he not only got us reservations, but reserved the best table in the place. It overlooked the city and was the perfect place for a proposal. After making sure my shave was a close one and my hair and tie were straight, I picked up the ring box I’d gotten the week before at The Jewelry Shop on the corner next to the gym I belonged to. I rushed out the door to get Stacy. I couldn’t be late tonight!

When Stacy came to the door, she looked stunning. She was wearing a sparkly silver dress and she twirled around for me when I asked, laughing. I knew I would remember this moment forever.  I gave her the flowers and she smelled them, giving me a sweet smile. She put them in a vase with water and set them on her coffee table.  I took her hand and led her to my car, opening the door for her. 

At the restaurant I noticed her looking around appreciatively. She caught me staring and laughed self-consciously. “I’ve never been here,” she said. “Me neither,” I admitted and we both laughed. The waiter brought over a bottle of champagne and a bottle of wine and set them on the table. Stacy looked at me questioningly. 

“Champagne AND wine?” she asked. It was at that moment I got down on one knee and opened the box that held the 1K diamond ring I’d bought for her. “Stacy, I began. “from the moment I saw you, I knew I wanted to spend my life with you. These last four months have been the best ones in my life. Honey, I know you don’t have a long life ahead, but please allow me to be in it for whatever time you DO have, as your husband. I want to spend every minute I can with you.” 

I tilted my head at the bottles on the table. “So, am I drowning my sorrows in  wine or celebrating with champagne?” I kneeled there, my heart thumping in my chest. She slowly reached her hand out to me. She held it for a moment and I knew she was going to turn me down. Her other hand reached over to the table, but I couldn’t see it through the tears in my eyes. I blinked fast trying to stop them. It was then that I saw my future wife holding the bottle of champagne.