"Paris?" Duncan laughed as he listened to Richie ramble excitedly on the
phone. "You want to get married in Paris?"
"Why not?" Richie asked.
"Why Paris, because it's the city of love?"
"Hey, I never thought about that! But seriously, I was thinking Darius could do the ceremony. You think he would?"
"Darius?" Duncan questioned.
"Yeah. I mean, I want him there, and I know he's not too big on leaving Holy Ground. so I figured we'd go to him."
"How big of a ceremony are we talking about here?"
"I dunno. That's not really an issue though. I mean all you gotta do is buy the plane ticket. I'm sure we can work out some deal with a nice hotel."
"Richie. do you have any idea how much that would cost people?"
"Come on, Mac, I do it all the time.and you pay for it," he suddenly remembered. "And you're richer than Bill Gates."
"Got a plan B?"
"Ask Heather what she wants.or. you up for giving me a loan?" Richie joked, while hoping Duncan would take him serious.
"How much are we talking, Richie?"
"Are you serious!?"
"Not a loan. maybe a wedding gift."
"Really?"
"But, uh, before you start scheduling the caterer."
"A Caterer! I totally forgot!"
"Maybe you should ask Heather first?" Duncan suggested.
Richie paused. "That might help," he laughed. "Man, Mac, I am so nervous. I haven't been this scared since I broke in and you threatened to take my head."
"Richie, you'll do fine."
"Well, gee, Mac, you'll have to forgive me, I haven't done this before," Richie snapped. Then, "You really think she's gonna say yes?"
"I do," Duncan said sincerely.
"That's my line."
"Richie, you're going to be fine. So. when are you going to ask?"
"Friday. I'm going to tell her that I'm taking her out to celebrate graduation early, right after her last exam. and then I'm gonna ask her and tell her everything." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So if all goes according to the plan next time you see me. I'll be engaged.. I like the sound of that."
"You should. So, I'll see you on Saturday. Engaged and graduating pre- law. Any word about your grade point?"
"Four even," Richie said proudly. "I retook philosophy and got rid of that pesky B. So, that's that. All A's. I've even done my exams early and got them graded."
"How did you manage that?"
"Very carefully."
"I'll say. And here I thought you hadn't even finished high school."
"What?"
"You didn't seem the type."
"Shows how well you knew me. I got a 1520 on my SATs."
"A 1520? Richie, a perfect score is 1600."
"I know. I was so close."
"No. Richie.. Do you not realize how good of a score that is?"
"Mac, a 1600 is a good score."
"A 1600 is perfect. Most people are in the 12 to 13 hundreds. How did you manage a 1520? I thought you stopped caring about school?"
"I just wanted to see how well I could do."
"And you were scared you weren't going to make it into college," Duncan chuckled.
"I had my doubts," Richie admitted. "Are you done making fun of me now?"
"Well.."
"Maaac!"
"Okay, okay, I give. I'll play nice."
"Good. So what have you been up to?"
. . . . . .
"Heather, will you marry me?. No, too corny. Heather, I have loved you.. I should work for Hallmark." Richie paced the floor of his loft. "Okay, think Ryan." He took a deep breath. "Heather, sweetie. about that story I wrote freshman year. You know about the guys with the swords. Well, it's not exactly fiction. I've been lying to you. Oh, yeah that's a great way to put it!" He tried again. "You know how I've told a lot about me? Well, there's something else I have to tell you. yeah that's it," he decided. "I'm a good guy. Offering up the information. Can't get mad at me that way."
He looked at himself in the mirror and fiddled with his collar. He brushed his hair for the twelfth time that hour. He checked the picnic basket he had packed. Potato salad, roasted chicken, and apple pie. All of Heather's favorites. Plates, napkins, sodas, silverware. check, check, check, and check. Just like the last time he had looked.
"Okay, calm down, Ryan. You've been planning this forever. Everything's gonna be great."
He sat down in the middle of the floor and tried to meditate. Finally he gave up and switched on the TV. Five minutes into a 'Facts of Life' rerun there was a knock on his door.
"Aw, man," his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat, got up and opened the door. "Hey," he smiled broadly at Heather. "How'd it go?" he asked letting her in.
"The play went well. My director really liked it."
"I still don't get why you didn't let me come see your masterpiece. I mean, act two alone is enough to draw any crowd."
"Act two?"
"Okay, you caught me. I snuck into a couple rehearsals. But can you really blame me? I find out my girlfriend wrote, directed and starred in her own play and I'm not allowed to see it? I wanted to see you in action." He put on his best innocent face. "Forgive me?"
"We'll see how this surprise of yours goes first. What have you gotten me into?"
Richie picked up the picnic basket off the counter. "Got any guesses?"
"A picnic?"
"What gave it away? It was the blanket by the door, wasn't it? I knew that it would spoil everything," Richie pouted.
"No, it wasn't the blanket by the door. It was the smell of roasted chicken," she assured him.
Richie smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "So is Madame ready for lunch?"
"Sure."
"Okay, just let me get my jacket."
"Richie, what is with you and your jacket? I never see you without it any more." Heather asked. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Richie's mind raced at the joke. "It's for dramatic effect," he said the first thing that came to mind.
"Dramatic effect?"
"Yeah, don't you get it?"
Heather grinned. "What are you talking about?"
"If I have to explain it to you that ruins everything. It's bad enough you guessed about the picnic."
"So, you're not going to tell me?"
"Think of it like a security blanket. only more rugged and manly."
"A blankey?"
"Don't you think it's cute?"
Heather smiled. "Yes," she said wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Good." The truth was Richie had been taking his sword with him everywhere he went. He wanted to make sure that if Greg ever had the nerve to make good on his threat, Richie would be able to make good on his. Greg was still following him around and Richie had been on the alert ever since that night over Christmas break. "So, you ready?"
They got in the car and drove out of town. Heather kept asking where they were going but Richie refused to tell. He turned up the radio and all but ignored her as they drove to the area he had picked out months ago. He could feel the reassuring weight of the small velvet box in his pocket. An hour later, he pulled to a stop in a large field.
"Riche, it's beautiful out here," Heather sighed.
"This isn't it, but this as far as we drive," he said taking the basket and blanket off the back seat. "We have to walk a little bit."
"You plan the most romantic dates," Heather told him as he took her by the hand and led her through the field.
Richie just grinned. 'You have no idea,' he thought.
"Okay, here we are," he said as they made it to the top of a small hill. "You hungry?" He spread the blanket on the ground and put the basket in the middle before sitting himself. "I got all sorts of good stuff in here."
They sat and ate and talked for a few hours until the sun started to go down. "Okay!" Richie said suddenly jumping to his feet. "Come here." He took both of Heather's hands and helped her to her feet.
"What now? Can't we just enjoy the sunset?"
"You will, just come here." He stood facing her and pulled a bandanna out of his pocket. "Trust me," he said at her quizzical look. He started to blindfold her.
"Richie!" she pulled away. "How am I supposed to enjoy the sunset if I can't see it?"
"Just humor me? Please? It'll only take a second."
"Alright," she rolled her eyes. "I swear I don't get you sometimes."
"It's all part of my charm." He tied the bandanna over her eyes. "Not too tight?"
"No."
"Can you see?"
"No."
"Good." He took off his jacket and took the ring out of his pocket. He got down on one knee and looked up at her. "I know we fight about who asked who out first. So I want to make this perfectly clear. I'm asking you."
"What?"
"Take it off." Heather took off the blindfold and looked down at Richie and the ring. She gasped and burst into tears. "Will you marry me?"
"Richie, of course I."
"Before you say anything," he interrupted. "There's something really important I have to tell you. and you might not like it."
"Richie, I'm sure whatever it is, we can work it out," she assured him.
"That's what I'm hoping."
. . . . . .
It was a feeling he had never had been able to experience before. The simple one word answer had filled him with such emotion he could barely contain himself. After he took her home to tell her family the news, he hadn't been able to simply drive home and go to bed. That's why at two thirty in the morning he was just venturing up the stairs to his loft above the ballet studio.
He let himself in and didn't bother to turn the lights on when he went to get a drink of water. As he was finishing his second glass of tap water the lights snapped on. He whirled around and faced the intruder.
"How'd you do that?" he asked looking at Greg, who stood blocking the only path to his jacket and sword. "I should have noticed you."
"That's something I could have taught you. Extreme emotion can confuse your senses. The things you could have learned if you had just done as I told you."
"I did do what you told me and you never taught me anything."
"I made you who you are! You live because I let you." Greg closed in on Richie.
"Who do you think you are, God?"
"There is no God, boy."
"Maybe not for you."
"Oh, that's right, the little boy has gone back to religion. I taught you better than that." Greg drew his sword and pointed it at Richie. "I would like you to come with me, now."
"No way."
"Oh, yes." Greg drew a gun with his free hand from an inside pocket on his sports jacket. "If you fight me on this, I will shoot you and there's no guarantee that you'll ever wake up."
"What do you want from me?" Richie asked. "If you want my head, I'll fight you for it. All you have to do is ask."
"Oh, I didn't live this long by simply taking one head at a time."
"You're like what, 25 years older than I am?"
"So young, so naive."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'll tell you all about it later. Just come with me."
"Where?"
"You'll see." He resheathed his sword, but kept his gun out. "Just be nice and quiet." He beckoned Richie forward by waiving his gun.
"I know how this works," Richie snapped moving to get in front of Greg. Causally he reached for his jacket.
"Ah, ah!" Greg stopped him. "You don't need that." Silently, Richie put his hands up in surrender and left the loft. "Oh, put your arms down," Greg hissed as they walked down the stairs. Richie complied with a slight smirk. It was the little things in life that mattered. And the irritation in Greg's voice was one of the little things. They made their way out of the building and into Greg's car. Greg made Richie get in and tied his hands together before putting the seatbelt over his arms. "Don't move."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Greg got behind the wheel, put on the child safety locks just in case Richie got any brilliant ideas, started the engine and drove away.
AN: Two chaps to go! Next chap: I make the readers happy
"Why not?" Richie asked.
"Why Paris, because it's the city of love?"
"Hey, I never thought about that! But seriously, I was thinking Darius could do the ceremony. You think he would?"
"Darius?" Duncan questioned.
"Yeah. I mean, I want him there, and I know he's not too big on leaving Holy Ground. so I figured we'd go to him."
"How big of a ceremony are we talking about here?"
"I dunno. That's not really an issue though. I mean all you gotta do is buy the plane ticket. I'm sure we can work out some deal with a nice hotel."
"Richie. do you have any idea how much that would cost people?"
"Come on, Mac, I do it all the time.and you pay for it," he suddenly remembered. "And you're richer than Bill Gates."
"Got a plan B?"
"Ask Heather what she wants.or. you up for giving me a loan?" Richie joked, while hoping Duncan would take him serious.
"How much are we talking, Richie?"
"Are you serious!?"
"Not a loan. maybe a wedding gift."
"Really?"
"But, uh, before you start scheduling the caterer."
"A Caterer! I totally forgot!"
"Maybe you should ask Heather first?" Duncan suggested.
Richie paused. "That might help," he laughed. "Man, Mac, I am so nervous. I haven't been this scared since I broke in and you threatened to take my head."
"Richie, you'll do fine."
"Well, gee, Mac, you'll have to forgive me, I haven't done this before," Richie snapped. Then, "You really think she's gonna say yes?"
"I do," Duncan said sincerely.
"That's my line."
"Richie, you're going to be fine. So. when are you going to ask?"
"Friday. I'm going to tell her that I'm taking her out to celebrate graduation early, right after her last exam. and then I'm gonna ask her and tell her everything." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So if all goes according to the plan next time you see me. I'll be engaged.. I like the sound of that."
"You should. So, I'll see you on Saturday. Engaged and graduating pre- law. Any word about your grade point?"
"Four even," Richie said proudly. "I retook philosophy and got rid of that pesky B. So, that's that. All A's. I've even done my exams early and got them graded."
"How did you manage that?"
"Very carefully."
"I'll say. And here I thought you hadn't even finished high school."
"What?"
"You didn't seem the type."
"Shows how well you knew me. I got a 1520 on my SATs."
"A 1520? Richie, a perfect score is 1600."
"I know. I was so close."
"No. Richie.. Do you not realize how good of a score that is?"
"Mac, a 1600 is a good score."
"A 1600 is perfect. Most people are in the 12 to 13 hundreds. How did you manage a 1520? I thought you stopped caring about school?"
"I just wanted to see how well I could do."
"And you were scared you weren't going to make it into college," Duncan chuckled.
"I had my doubts," Richie admitted. "Are you done making fun of me now?"
"Well.."
"Maaac!"
"Okay, okay, I give. I'll play nice."
"Good. So what have you been up to?"
. . . . . .
"Heather, will you marry me?. No, too corny. Heather, I have loved you.. I should work for Hallmark." Richie paced the floor of his loft. "Okay, think Ryan." He took a deep breath. "Heather, sweetie. about that story I wrote freshman year. You know about the guys with the swords. Well, it's not exactly fiction. I've been lying to you. Oh, yeah that's a great way to put it!" He tried again. "You know how I've told a lot about me? Well, there's something else I have to tell you. yeah that's it," he decided. "I'm a good guy. Offering up the information. Can't get mad at me that way."
He looked at himself in the mirror and fiddled with his collar. He brushed his hair for the twelfth time that hour. He checked the picnic basket he had packed. Potato salad, roasted chicken, and apple pie. All of Heather's favorites. Plates, napkins, sodas, silverware. check, check, check, and check. Just like the last time he had looked.
"Okay, calm down, Ryan. You've been planning this forever. Everything's gonna be great."
He sat down in the middle of the floor and tried to meditate. Finally he gave up and switched on the TV. Five minutes into a 'Facts of Life' rerun there was a knock on his door.
"Aw, man," his voice squeaked. He cleared his throat, got up and opened the door. "Hey," he smiled broadly at Heather. "How'd it go?" he asked letting her in.
"The play went well. My director really liked it."
"I still don't get why you didn't let me come see your masterpiece. I mean, act two alone is enough to draw any crowd."
"Act two?"
"Okay, you caught me. I snuck into a couple rehearsals. But can you really blame me? I find out my girlfriend wrote, directed and starred in her own play and I'm not allowed to see it? I wanted to see you in action." He put on his best innocent face. "Forgive me?"
"We'll see how this surprise of yours goes first. What have you gotten me into?"
Richie picked up the picnic basket off the counter. "Got any guesses?"
"A picnic?"
"What gave it away? It was the blanket by the door, wasn't it? I knew that it would spoil everything," Richie pouted.
"No, it wasn't the blanket by the door. It was the smell of roasted chicken," she assured him.
Richie smiled down at her and kissed the tip of her nose. "So is Madame ready for lunch?"
"Sure."
"Okay, just let me get my jacket."
"Richie, what is with you and your jacket? I never see you without it any more." Heather asked. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Richie's mind raced at the joke. "It's for dramatic effect," he said the first thing that came to mind.
"Dramatic effect?"
"Yeah, don't you get it?"
Heather grinned. "What are you talking about?"
"If I have to explain it to you that ruins everything. It's bad enough you guessed about the picnic."
"So, you're not going to tell me?"
"Think of it like a security blanket. only more rugged and manly."
"A blankey?"
"Don't you think it's cute?"
Heather smiled. "Yes," she said wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Good." The truth was Richie had been taking his sword with him everywhere he went. He wanted to make sure that if Greg ever had the nerve to make good on his threat, Richie would be able to make good on his. Greg was still following him around and Richie had been on the alert ever since that night over Christmas break. "So, you ready?"
They got in the car and drove out of town. Heather kept asking where they were going but Richie refused to tell. He turned up the radio and all but ignored her as they drove to the area he had picked out months ago. He could feel the reassuring weight of the small velvet box in his pocket. An hour later, he pulled to a stop in a large field.
"Riche, it's beautiful out here," Heather sighed.
"This isn't it, but this as far as we drive," he said taking the basket and blanket off the back seat. "We have to walk a little bit."
"You plan the most romantic dates," Heather told him as he took her by the hand and led her through the field.
Richie just grinned. 'You have no idea,' he thought.
"Okay, here we are," he said as they made it to the top of a small hill. "You hungry?" He spread the blanket on the ground and put the basket in the middle before sitting himself. "I got all sorts of good stuff in here."
They sat and ate and talked for a few hours until the sun started to go down. "Okay!" Richie said suddenly jumping to his feet. "Come here." He took both of Heather's hands and helped her to her feet.
"What now? Can't we just enjoy the sunset?"
"You will, just come here." He stood facing her and pulled a bandanna out of his pocket. "Trust me," he said at her quizzical look. He started to blindfold her.
"Richie!" she pulled away. "How am I supposed to enjoy the sunset if I can't see it?"
"Just humor me? Please? It'll only take a second."
"Alright," she rolled her eyes. "I swear I don't get you sometimes."
"It's all part of my charm." He tied the bandanna over her eyes. "Not too tight?"
"No."
"Can you see?"
"No."
"Good." He took off his jacket and took the ring out of his pocket. He got down on one knee and looked up at her. "I know we fight about who asked who out first. So I want to make this perfectly clear. I'm asking you."
"What?"
"Take it off." Heather took off the blindfold and looked down at Richie and the ring. She gasped and burst into tears. "Will you marry me?"
"Richie, of course I."
"Before you say anything," he interrupted. "There's something really important I have to tell you. and you might not like it."
"Richie, I'm sure whatever it is, we can work it out," she assured him.
"That's what I'm hoping."
. . . . . .
It was a feeling he had never had been able to experience before. The simple one word answer had filled him with such emotion he could barely contain himself. After he took her home to tell her family the news, he hadn't been able to simply drive home and go to bed. That's why at two thirty in the morning he was just venturing up the stairs to his loft above the ballet studio.
He let himself in and didn't bother to turn the lights on when he went to get a drink of water. As he was finishing his second glass of tap water the lights snapped on. He whirled around and faced the intruder.
"How'd you do that?" he asked looking at Greg, who stood blocking the only path to his jacket and sword. "I should have noticed you."
"That's something I could have taught you. Extreme emotion can confuse your senses. The things you could have learned if you had just done as I told you."
"I did do what you told me and you never taught me anything."
"I made you who you are! You live because I let you." Greg closed in on Richie.
"Who do you think you are, God?"
"There is no God, boy."
"Maybe not for you."
"Oh, that's right, the little boy has gone back to religion. I taught you better than that." Greg drew his sword and pointed it at Richie. "I would like you to come with me, now."
"No way."
"Oh, yes." Greg drew a gun with his free hand from an inside pocket on his sports jacket. "If you fight me on this, I will shoot you and there's no guarantee that you'll ever wake up."
"What do you want from me?" Richie asked. "If you want my head, I'll fight you for it. All you have to do is ask."
"Oh, I didn't live this long by simply taking one head at a time."
"You're like what, 25 years older than I am?"
"So young, so naive."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'll tell you all about it later. Just come with me."
"Where?"
"You'll see." He resheathed his sword, but kept his gun out. "Just be nice and quiet." He beckoned Richie forward by waiving his gun.
"I know how this works," Richie snapped moving to get in front of Greg. Causally he reached for his jacket.
"Ah, ah!" Greg stopped him. "You don't need that." Silently, Richie put his hands up in surrender and left the loft. "Oh, put your arms down," Greg hissed as they walked down the stairs. Richie complied with a slight smirk. It was the little things in life that mattered. And the irritation in Greg's voice was one of the little things. They made their way out of the building and into Greg's car. Greg made Richie get in and tied his hands together before putting the seatbelt over his arms. "Don't move."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Greg got behind the wheel, put on the child safety locks just in case Richie got any brilliant ideas, started the engine and drove away.
AN: Two chaps to go! Next chap: I make the readers happy