I’m part of The Paranormal Plumes, a group of talented authors who write young adult fiction. We decided in late January that it would be fun to talk about that first kiss. You know the one I’m talking about, right? Your very first kiss, the one that moved mountains for you? Yeah, that kiss didn’t do it for me, either. But, what fun is that?
You’re here because you want to hear about that special first kiss of mine. The one and only kiss that rocked my world. Except that I can’t really recall it. Or, since I’m married, maybe it’s best to ‘recall’ my first kiss with hubby. Except that I’m not 100% certain I remember the details of our first kiss. Sad, I know. What I can tell you is about a very special kiss between us. One that I still recall with vivid clarity to this day. It was totally unconventional and it was awesome.
We’d been together for a couple of years when I’d accepted a new job in another city. We’d talked about it, and he decided to move with me. Wow, huh? Talk about a big step in the relationship since we weren’t married. It was August, and I had someone coming by later in the week to look at my house. I had taken the afternoon off work to do a few things on the to-do list. I was busy cleaning out a sprinkler head that was clogged in the front yard when he arrived from work. I was a mess because it was hot and humid. The ground was muddy, which meant I was muddy, sweaty, frizzy-haired, and fairly drenched.
He was still in nice work clothes, so we talked for a few minutes while I replaced the sprinkler head I was holding. I remember telling him the financial details on the relocation package. One in particular ticked me off because it said there was an additional amount for something called ‘traveling spouse.’
“Does that bother you?” I remember him asking.
I shook my head. “Yeah! It’s sort of discriminatory.”
“Well, we could fix that,” he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. I recall that, because I was already working on replacing the sprinkler head I had been holding and had a clear view of his feet.
I froze. Had he just asked me to marry him? I’d been divorced before and I swore I’d never get remarried. I was the independent type. I pretended to not hear him, although he knew I had. After a few minutes he brought up a totally unrelated topic. We talked about other things as we finished working on the sprinklers together.
“It’s okay,” he said a few minutes later, “I understand.”
“About what?” I asked, puzzled.
“You said you didn’t want to get married. I’m okay with that. Just so you know I don’t need a piece of paper,” he explained.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he replied. “In my heart, I’m already married. I’ve been yours and only yours for a long time. A piece of paper doesn’t change how I feel.”
Wow! What could I say to that? I swear, I was totally speechless.
“Uh oh,” he said after another moment of silence.
I smiled. “I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” I told him. “I had no idea…”
“I never said anything before because I knew how you felt about getting married.”
I think I blinked or something.
“Well?” he said as we stood in the front yard, both of us now covered in grime and sweat that only a sweltering August in south Florida can provide. “Is that a yes?”
How else to answer that but with a kiss to seal the deal?
Well, okay. So later that evening he did formerly ask, bended knee and all. Well, except for the ring. I’ve never been the kind of girl who liked jewelry. After all, I didn’t need a ring to remind me who my heart belonged to.