Postables, thank you for your kind words on Twitter about fan fiction. Someone reminded me that in The Phone Call, Shane agreed to call Becky if or when she had more news. Here is my take on that call. The story is more about what Shane doesn't tell Becky than what she does. As always these characters belong to the incredibly gifted Martha Williamson.
Shane and Oliver remained after the reception until every guest was gone and the giddy bride and slightly anxious groom sputtered away – RV, canoe, and all. Shane was glad to linger longer. Though tired she was in no hurry to leave her fiancé's side. Fiancé - what a beautiful word.
Arm in arm they walked to Oliver's car. He drove her home and celebrated their engagement with one last embrace and passionate kiss. Finally in the wee small hours of the morning Shane fell asleep with a smile on her face.
Several hours later with the sunshine peeking at her through the curtains Shane woke still smiling. The first thing she did was look at the ring on her left hand. The second thing she did was to phone a friend. Still in her pajamas and before her feet hit the floor Shane grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand by her bed. This news deserved more than a text message. She hoped Becky was free to take the call.
"Shaney! What a surprise! How is life in Denver?" said Becky.
"Never better. Remember the last time we talked I said that I would call - if say - I had any news," said Shane, being a bit coy.
"Noooo! Oh my goodness! Oh no! You're engaged!" said Becky.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!," said Shane.
To be two grown rather sophisticated women they certainly could squeal and giggle like two schoolgirls. And squeal and giggle they did. Eventually they got around to using intelligible words.
"Oh girl, give me the scoop! When? Where? How? Did you see it coming?" asked Becky with questions rolling off her tongue like butter.
"See it coming? You might say that," laughed Shane, thinking of the green tie. "It was last night. It was late. It had been the most wonderful day. He and I walked outside the barn…" said Shane.
"Wait. What were you doing in a barn? Or should I ask?" asked Becky, playing that statement for all it was worth.
"Rebecca Starkwell!"
"I never took Oliver O'Toole for the barn type – all that hay." said Becky, trying to sound appalled but laughing too much for her shock to be believable.
"Ok. Ok. I did start in the middle of the story. Rita and Norman got married last night in a barn," said Shane.
"Now you are kidding," replied Becky.
"Oh no, no, no, no, not kidding. You wouldn't believe all they went through. The Reverend got the measles, their florist eloped without doing their flowers, and skunks ran them out of the church. But it all worked out," said Shane very matter of fact.
"My goodness. That is terrible. How did Rita and Norman take it?"
"Things were a little stressful but they handled everything really well. They are so in love and focused on each other and on the marriage itself. As Norman would say they just wanted to be married – to each other," said Shane with a chuckle. "Everyone pulled together. Rita of course was a beautiful bride. I wish you could have seen her."
"Aren't they the sweetest two people? They are perfect for each other. Speaking of perfect - back to the engagement. You walked outside the barn," said Becky.
"He waited until after the reception. All the guests were gone." Shane's voice softened and dropped. "We walked outside. It was cold and wet and quiet and he…he… he…." Her eyes began to fill…"was so genuine and tender."
"You're crying and you're making me cry. Let me get a tissue. Ok, go ahead," said Becky.
"Then he went down on one knee and asked me to marry him and I said yes," said Shane, her voice breaking.
"Did he give you a ring?"
"Ah yes, he did. His grandmother's ring."
"I can't wait to see it," said Becky.
"It is perfect."
"That is so sweet. He is everything his personnel file says he is," said Becky between sniffles and with delight in her voice.
"Oh Becky, he is and so much more," said Shane as she wiped her tears.
"Have you set a date?"
"Not yet. Got to trust the timing."
"Talk about timing. I have a security meeting tomorrow. You know who will be there. Do you want me to tell him?" said Becky.
"He has moved on I'm sure. Don't make an issue out of it. He'll figure it out eventually," said Shane.
"If he comes to me again asking about you and taking pot shots at Oliver, I will relay the good news," said Becky.
"Well if he takes pot shots at Oliver you have my blessing," said Shane.
"You coming to D.C. to shop for a wedding dress?"
"I hadn't thought that far. But now that you mention it there is a lady here in Denver I may see first," said Shane.
"Let me know. I can set you up with some incredible shops in Alexandria and Georgetown."
"Thank you. Oliver and I are going to have to sit down and make some decisions. But I do miss you," said Shane. "I hate to cut this short. I have to get ready. Oliver's coming over and we are going to see his dad."
"You can't keep your future father-in-law waiting," said Becky.
"No, I don't want to do that. Besides he is wonderful too," said Shane.
"Glad to hear that. Keep me posted," said Becky.
"I will," said Shane.
"Love you. Oh, and may I be the first to say best wishes," said Becky.
"Thank you. Love you too. Bye," said Shane.
"Bye."
Shane had kept the specifics rather scant. No information shared about vintage gowns, or an "I love you" spoken at the Brown Palace, or ugly green ties.
No one else needed to know about his finding her in that vintage wedding gown. She wanted to buy it out right; but that was not to be. She would have to wait – hold that check. Oliver covered for her with Norman as to how they found the letter and she did not explain it to Rita. It had become something she asked him to forget but something he treasured to remember.
No one needed to know that the feel of his hands buttoning a dress at her waist caused her to gasp in part out of the embarrassment of being caught in the dress and in part from the sheer electricity of his touch. He had such an effect on her that it was unlike any man she had ever known. Who would understand that his shush was not to silence her voice or to subjugate? Instead it held them both in the moment. It was his attempt to reassure, to rest any worry or fear or humiliation she may feel.
She had given it a great deal of thought. He could have turned and walked away, slipped away from her as she stood before the mirror. She didn't know he was there. Instead he came to her. He shared the moment with her and eased the tension with a smile and a teasing twinkle in his eye. And that had to mean something. She was once again safe with him even at her heart's most exposed moment. She was as safe as she was in his arms in a bank vault so long ago. In truth she had always been safe with him.
No one needed to know that his first "I love you" came forth with a halting spontaneity. He had been contemplating his feelings and was still considering what to do about them. In this moment it was too much to hold back any longer. He didn't always say what he meant but when he did say it, he meant it. There on the stairs of the Brown Palace he saw her looking beautiful – not so much in the physical sense because she was always that. He saw her glowing with happiness at a successful reconciliation of a mother and her daughter, at a job well done. He saw her give up a dress she wanted and never give a second thought to seeing someone else wearing it – only to be glad for her. She was unselfishly joyful for two strangers. She had embraced this divine delivery and his heart was ready to embrace her. It was in that moment she was especially alluring to him and the words that matched his intentions were spoken to her, "…and I love – and I love - you."
No one even needed to know the history of the green tie. Some working class O'Toole fell in love with an aristocrat from Boston. About to lose her to another suitor, he borrows an ugly green tie and literally runs to ask her to marry him. Since that time O'Toole men had donned green ties before going on bended knee and asking a lady for her hand.
Shane, already filled with joy for Rita and Norman, walked the aisle, looked across the way, and spotted Oliver wearing not a bow tie, not a formal dress tie, but this atypical, loud, green monstrosity. Her heart certainly skipped a beat, her cheeks blushed, and her eyes welled with tears. She now joined in this holy service with Rita and Norman with the likelihood that she and Oliver would be the next participants. The words spoken in this ceremony now rang with new meaning for her. She was literally and figuratively closer to the altar than she had ever been.
After proposing, Oliver removed the tie when he returned to the barn and placed it on a serving table. He didn't say anything when Shane slipped the tie from the table and put it into her coat pocket. Oliver certainly didn't know that she fell asleep that night with the tie clasped in her hand – the tie that carried just a hint of his aftershave.
No one else needed to know of his tear-filled eyes. How do you describe moist eyes looking up at you from bended knees? You don't. It isn't for Instagram or wedding websites where couples give the details of engagements. It was Oliver completely vulnerable completely honest offering to love her and her alone for the rest of his life. It was a sacred moment between a man and woman who found each other. It was a display of love and hope that called for faith. And Shane met him in that moment with love overflowing like the tears from her eyes. Her heart reciprocated his hope and his trust.
Oliver O'Toole asked her to look at his eyes and listen to his heart. And he became a man who was fully seen and fully heard. There on a cold wet night at a farm outside of Denver he took her hands in his hands and he went on bended knee. He asked her to marry him and he pledged to love her forever.
Shane responded with a yes resounding with conviction. It was a promise to love him forever that came not only from the depth of her heart but also from every fiber of her being. Oliver O'Toole had gone from a man who baffled her to a man she held in highest esteem; from a forbidden desire to be squelched to the love for whom she would patiently wait. And now he was the man whose every word, every touch, and every deed exceeded her every hope.
Becky nor anyone else need know the details of when or how the ground shifted beneath her feet - how everything changed. Seeing them together will be the evidence that it did.
Knowing Oliver O'Toole had made a grateful believer of Shane McInerney and helped her make peace with the past. Her faith and her friendship had delivered him when he didn't even realize that he was lost. And together they found love that is a perfect mixture of phileo, storge, eros, and agape. It would not be good for them to be alone. It will be obvious that for this reason a man shall leave his father and his mother and cleave unto his wife: and they shall become one flesh.