"Frederick Herman Jones, you take that trash out this minute, young man," his mother had scolded him when he was young.
Since the age of six, Fred was expected to complete a number of chores at the house which included cleaning his room, folding his clothes, and taking out the trash. He never truly had issues with the former two, but when it came to the trash, an excuse was ready on tongue.
"I can't take it out today, Ma," he had once replied, "There are raccoons out. They'll bite me."
His mother had listened to that one, but when she asked again the next day he responded with, "I tried, but the bag has a hole in the bottom and if I take it out of the pail, it will spill all over the floor," she quickly caught onto his game. Later that evening, his mother made him take out the entire pail.
Eventually he thought up more ways to connive his way out of the chore, some being rather good excuses, while others were illogical at best.
"In some countries it's an honor to take out the trash, I figured I'd let you do it today!"
"What do you mean by trash?"
"Jude and I made a bet, he lost; he'll be taking it out later."
"I'm sorry, I went deaf today at school. I can't hear what you're saying."
"I can't, I have homework."
"But it's not even full yet. I would hate to make you waste a trash-bag."
"But I like the way it smells."
Unfortunately, his mother didn't often see the humor as clear as himself. As such, every Wednesday evening, little Frederick Jones took the trash bag out of its pail, walked out to the side of the house, and tossed it into the dumpster for the city to collect the next day.
As a young adolescent, not only did Fred's age increase, but his maturity level as well. Soon, he began taking out the trash with no more than the occasional murmur of resentment. Eventually, Fred grew older, graduated and moved away from his mother. Jokingly, she provided him with a trash pail as a house-warming gift. He chuckled softly when he entered the house and noted it placed in the center of the humble living-room. Despite his age and the decrease of complaining he had provided over the years, he still never saw how someone could not simply hate the chore.
It was three days after his twenty-second birthday and Daphne had thrown him a surprise party. A few of his friends from the Coolsville City College had been invited, as well as his family and, of course, Velma, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo. Only moments after the lasts guests (his mother and Daphne) exited the house Fred considered if giving Daphne the spare key of his house had been a smart idea.
Once the door had shut behind them, Fred had took a moment to survey the areas the party was contained. Luckily, the bathroom was in proper order. Unfortunately, both the kitchen and living-room were in shambles. The couches and floor were covered in squares of "confettied" paper and a small, yet evident stain of punch was located on the carpet from where his nephew had spilled earlier that evening. Looking up from the floor, Fred chuckled at the eclectic decorating of the ceiling.
Daphne had always loved the look of balloons, but due to Velma's fear of the sound they make when popped, the young woman was certain to only use a few at every party. Thus, one balloon of primary coloring was placed in each corner of the living-room. Additionally, Fred suspected that Daphne had hung the crepe paper all by herself as the usually twisted decorations covered the ceiling in a haphazard display.
He let out yet another chuckle as he moved to the desk in order to get his camera. He could only imagine the petite redhead standing upon her tiptoes and giving a small jump in order to stick the taped side of the decorations to the ceiling. He didn't blame her for the chaotic look of it; her family had hired decorators for any party they ever threw, and thus, he understood her lack of knowledge for putting up the decorations in any better manner.
Once having located his camera, he snapped a photo of the disassembled room and was surprised to see Daphne standing at the door with a smile upon her face once he was done with the photo.
"I didn't hear you come back in," he admitted.
She walked over to him with a bounce in her step and a smile on her lips. "Well, I guess I'm just a good "surpriser" that way."
Knowing that she wanted to hear if he enjoyed himself or not, he indulged her. "You're right, Daph, you are good at surprises. Thanks for doing this for me, you really didn't have to."
"You deserved it, Freddie. Besides, it was so much fun trying to keep this a secret from you! I tell you everything, so keeping my lips sealed on this was so hard. Velma and I would pretend to be spies when we would get the decorations. We even hid them in your house to add to the suspense!" She giggled as the two then began to clean up the plates, cups, confetti, and seal the leftovers.
Fred was honestly surprised as he reached down to grab a stranded cup from the floor. "Really? Where did you put them?"
"Oh no, Mr. Jones, I'm not telling; see, it's the perfect place to hide them next time I want to do something like this."
She smirked as Fred playfully bumped into her as he continued cleaning. She soon took the plastic plates into the kitchen and discarded them into the garbage pail.
"Jeepers, Freddie!"
Fred knew what she was talking about. Despite being forced like clockwork when living with his mother, Fred hadn't thrown the trash out in two weeks. It was piling up and now, more than ever he truly didn't want to take it out.
"Sorry, Daph, look like you'll have to take it out," Fred spoke while making his way to the kitchen.
"You know the rule," he added playfully. "The last person to fill it up takes it out."
Daphne looked to the trash pail and the overwhelming heap of garbage that it seemed to spew. Her look of disgust and queasiness made Fred sigh with rough sympathy as she looked back up to him.
"Oh, Daph, it's just garbage," he surprised himself by stating as he walked to her side, knelt down, tied up the bag, pulled it out of the pail and held it up for her to take out.
She timidly began to reach out for the bag, yet she remained frightened by it, as if the contents would come to life and attack her.
Fred noted this and sighed once more, "Daph, there's nothing to be scared of, it's just a bag with some trash."
She nodded in understanding. However, a look of sorrow slowly traced her features, which Fred attributed her disgust for all things "only little boys like" as she often referred to them. Despite this, she soon reached out her hand to take the bag, but stopped as Fred let out a low laugh.
"Sometimes, Daphne Ann, you're too cute for your own good and you don't even realize it."
Having said as much, Fred kept the bag in his clutches and exited the house through the back door. Daphne stood in shock for only a moment but was soon at his heels.
"What are you doing?" She asked with curiosity as a large smile graced her face.
"Uh," Fred joked, "This is what us regular people call 'taking out the trash.' Does Jenkins still do this for you?"
"No silly, Lilly and the other maids do," Daphne said as if it were obvious.
Fred smiled at her once again. Despite their nearly life-long friendship, the two had only begun a relationship with each other three years prior. Since then, a few matters had changed, once such was that he often found her every-day characteristics to be charming and "adorable" instead of common-place. Another transformation was how he often imaged spending the rest of his life with the Blake girl. Additionally, he paid more attention to her body language than before. At the moment, with her hands on her hips, he knew she was not entirely satisfied with his answer to the previous question.
"What?" He asked as he dumped a second, previously abandoned bag into the dumpster.
"I know you're taking out the trash, I want to know why, Freddie."
He turned slowly, and "dusted" the germs off his hands by sliding them against one another in a few, quick motions. His brow was furrowed, confused at her question.
"I took it out because you didn't want to?" True enough, it was a response, but his voice rose in the form of a question.
She smiled softly and made her way to his side, at which point he wrapped his arms about her waist.
"But what if I don't want to make you dinner one day?" She asked with a crooked smile.
They had talked about their futures once…Before she had left for college out of the state. He had asked her to stay and although she had admitted a love for him, she also stated that she couldn't commit to him as much as she knew he wanted. That day was the hardest of his life as he returned home and toyed with the ring he had saved in his pocket.
He knew she would one day say yes, but the timing was crucial and now that she had her diploma, he wasn't sure whether or not she would take the internship she was granted out of state. They didn't talk about it much as it always led to one or both in anger.
Despite the twisting and crushing of his heart that it caused, he continued to play on with their wistful "One day" game.
"Are you implying that you'll make it most days?" He questioned in response.
"So long as you take out the trash."
Her tone was playful, but her eyes showed a longing he had not yet seen before.
Fred paused, looking her in the eyes with uncertainty and an overwhelming hope. "If I take out the trash, will you marry me?"
Daphne began to laugh, making her way to the back entrance of the house. She failed to notice the seriousness in Fred's eyes until she turned about and noticed he had not moved, yet watched her intently as she stood framed by the doorway.
"Freddie?" She questioned, slowly tilting her head. "Aren't you going to come in?"
"I asked you a question," he spoke deliberately.
She bit her lip and bowed her head as he got down on one knee and pulled the ring out of his pocket.
As she looked up she inaudibly gasped. Slowly she walked to him, with every step her legs seemed to become weaker until finally a realization hit her.
"Frederick Herman Jones," she spoke, attempting to suppress her laughter as tears of happiness slowly began stream down the side of her face, "Did you just propose to me with garbage as your main selling point?"
Fred reddened and laughed out of humility as he remained kneeled down and looked up at her.
"Only if you say yes, if not, we can forget this ever happened," he dejectedly spoke.
Daphne laughed through her tears, provided a large smile and simply nodded her head, first at a slowly pace but soon her enthusiasm grew.
Fred smiled widely and slid the sparkling engagement ring onto her finger and stood, taking her up into his arms and twirling her about the backyard.
"I'm sorry it wasn't any more romantic, Daph," he whispered in her ear. "I've come up with so many ideas I know would have been better than this. But I've carried that ring in my pocket every day since you came back from college and I…I'm sorry."
Daphne merely nodded her head against his chest, signaling that she understood.
"All that matters is that you asked Freddie. I don't care how or where."
"I'll love you even after the day I die, Daphne Ann," he responded before placing her softly on the ground and kissing her with more gentle passion than ever before.
After the two parted and she had gained her breath, Daphne smiled up at him, "Same here, Freddie, same here."
It wasn't the way Fred had always imagined proposing to her and as he danced with her in the backyard to the sound of chirping crickets he silently vowed he would make it up to her. Yet, as he watched the light of the setting sun cast hues of tawny, maize, and goldenrod hues against her face and through her scarlet hair, he felt as if all the world was at rest and the only important matter was that Daphne Blake would soon become his wife.
It wasn't until the next week that he realized taking out the garbage would no longer be a chore; instead, it would forever remind him of one of his happiest moments in life and all that were to come.
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The End.
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Author's Note: I'm so sorry for how erratic this story is. I don't truly write these, the characters do. I had never meant for them to be engaged like this, I always thought Fred would be more romantic for her, but the words just kept flowing and it turns out, this was how he asked her. Sorry to all of you who dislike it.
I created this story because I like doing one-shots that are sweet and simple. Due to this, I used a generator to give me a word and I would have to use that word to base around; the word was "Garbage Pail."
Please, if you have any words, or even plots, you would like to see me use…Then please, include them at the bottom of your review. Thank you for reading and for any possible inspiration you bring me!
