“I said no such thing. One time I said family heirlooms.”
“Jewels. Heirlooms. Same thing.”
“They are not!”
“I’ll show you mine…”
“Do I have to go down the road for takeout?”
“…you show me yours.”
“Or maybe I need to call 911.” He smiled. “I thought men your age were supposed to slow down in that department.”
He smiled bigger. “Who would have thought a woman your age could get me so hard? And keep me that way?”
She blinked. “Mushy pasta is okay with me.”
“You want me to go get you takeout?”
“Just put something in my mouth.” He leered. “YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHAT I MEAN!”
He flipped the dishtowel over his shoulder, poured a touch of olive oil over the ziti and swirled it around the colander like he did it every day. He dumped generous portions onto two plates, used tongs to deposit grilled chicken strips on top of that, covered it with marinara and green peppers, then topped it off with shredded parmesan.
When the plate was set before her and a glass of her favorite red was poured, she inhaled the steam and gave him a smile that was all the gratitude he needed. Sol sat down across from her and waited with anticipation while she paired a bit of chicken with two pieces of ziti to make one forkful. She put it in her mouth then immediately closed her eyes and began making yummy sounds.
“Stop.”
Her eyes flew open. She chewed quickly and swallowed. “Stop what?”
“Stop making those sexy humming noises if you want to get through dinner.”
She chuckled. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best thing that has ever happened to my ego?”
As soon as she had finished the last morsel on the plate, Sol moved her to the couch in front of the fire where he made love to her as slowly as if he thought it would be the last time ever. Something about it made her want to cry, but she didn’t. Farnsworth was not a crier. But she recorded the feeling and promised herself that she would take it out and look at it another time. An emotion potent enough to threaten tears was worthy of pondering further.
Later Sol covered them both with a blanket, but they stayed pressed against each other, skin to skin, as they talked about their future in hushed tones with the rest of the world far, far away.
After a while he slid off the couch and strode off toward the kitchen looking for the jacket left by the door.
He’d left Farnsworth watching him walk away in the full bounty of nakedness. She was constantly amazed at how the only signs of age on his body were the gray around the temples, the deep set crinkles around his eyes and the permanent vertical “perfectionist” lines between his brows. If viewing him from the neck down, a person would guess twenty years younger.
She was lost in appreciating and applauding his strong youthful body when he returned and knelt beside the couch. She hadn’t moved. She was waiting to welcome him back into their blanketed cocoon of a love nest.
Pinched between his fingers was a ring that he held up at her eye level. “Fa…, uh, Susan. Marry me.”
She looked at the ring. Farnsworth wasn’t materialistic and wouldn’t have cared if it was a cigar wrapper, but she was a woman and it was sparkling in the firelight like it was a living thing, just inches in front of her eyes. She couldn’t avoid looking at it.
It was perfect. A five carat marquis cut solitaire on a simple white gold band. She didn’t know much about diamonds, but she’d read enough to know that diamonds that pick up all the colors and lights in the room and reflect them back like a prism… well, that’s as good as a diamond gets. It had robbed her of her identity as an intelligent independent woman and reduced her to a creature who was mesmerized by a shiny object.
Wielding a rock that size might take some getting used to, but she decided she was up to the challenge and wanted Sol to believe that, of all the rings in the world, it was the very one she would have chosen for herself.
Her hesitation was starting to make Sol anxious and self-conscious. “I hope it’s right. I thought it looked like you. The guy in the store said it’s simply elegant, simply unique and I said, ‘Yeah. That’s her. That’s definitely her.’”
As fantastic as the ring was, the compliment was even better.
Farnsworth’s eyes slid to his as she swallowed the golf ball size lump that had formed in her throat. She didn’t speak, but didn’t hesitate either. She just nodded and smiled as she sat up, took his hand and guided it toward her ring finger. Little did he know that he would have made her happy with a proposal and a cereal box prize.
“Move over,” he chuckled as she made room for him to nestle back into his place. “Let’s do it before we go back.”