Amy's Smile: A Conclusion

Oh thhhattt! Rising from my knees -- thank God for that -- I slipped into the Lazyboy, planted my butt squarely on the Packer helmet -- forgive me, Vince Lombardi - and pulled her dainty form onto my knee. She folded into my chest. "Amy, I love you with my whole heart. I love what's inside you and I loved you long before Guido helped you look just as beautiful on the outside."

Amy snuffled and buried her face into my neck. She was crying hard enough that I expected I would have to blow dry my collar before I could appear in public again. Then she looked up at me. Her eyes were dark pools large enough to drown Milwaukee, maybe even Chicago. "I love you, Charlie!"

"Me? Not Liam?"

"You." And she burrowed deeper into my chest.

"But Peanut, I thought you wanted Liam for years and would give anything for him to notice you!"

"Charlie McKee!" Amazingly enough, she managed the same tone of voice as my fourth grade teacher when she caught Johnny Sample and me trying to smoke our first cigarette behind the school portable. "You have to stop underestimating me! Do you think I'm too stupid to know the difference between a self-centered, egotistical jock who treats me like his personal slave and the sweetest, kindest man in the whole world who makes me feel I'm wonderful? My friend, Miriam says any man who will sit and wait while a woman is in the hairdresser is a keeper. Not to mention that you gave me sex so good, that if I have any better I'll probably die and go to heaven on the spot!"

Wow! She was right about the sex though. Sex any better should definitely carry a health warning, "Better orgasms may cause sudden, ecstatic death!"

"But he's a good looking jock."

I had always wondered what the sound is when someone gnashes her teeth. Now I knew.

"Amy, you dropped maybe a couple of grand at the mall for that makeover, just so Liam would notice you!" Amy bobbed her head like an enraged Chickadee. God, she was cute!

"Charlie, I swear you're five receipts short of a clean audit. Whose idea was the whole makeover business? Who said he would take me, so I changed my mind about even going? Who did I want to notice I looked so good in the new clothes?"

"Whom," I said.

"Excuuuse me, Mr. English Major! I didn't do it for Liam, I did it for you. Idiot!"

"But a loveable idiot."

Amy smiled. "True."

"Forget Liam?" I asked.

"Forget Liam." Amy folded her hands again and waited. I kept her occupied while she waited but then I remembered there was a party upstairs.

"Peanut, I couldn't possibly be happier than I am here with you, but maybe we ought to head back upstairs to see the family... and those other people. Who are all those folks upstairs, by the way? There's a couple of people there I swear I've never met, like a little old lady dressed in the rejects from the Salvation Army Thrift Store."

Amy frowned thoughtfully, "I really should make her come with me next time I go to the mall when Guido trims my hair."

"She's your Mom???" So the round man was... Well that explained those tent sized sweat pants Amy had lent me that night in her house. Her father had left them behind because they were getting a little snug.

"Amy, I'll be glad to see them and all but what are they doing here, and on a night like this?"

"My father makes balloon animals for birthday parties?"

"Nahhh," I shook my head.

Amy looked a little anxious, like a wren caught pecking at the wrong birdfeeder. "Your mother wanted to meet them and she was absolutely sure they would want to meet you."

"Meet me?" I echoed.

Amy paused, flushed slightly and hesitantly continued, "Charlie, I ought to tell you that I was... already here when you called your mother. I was in the kitchen and she had you on speaker phone. Your Mom did try to tell you."

"Tried to tell me?

"I heard everything you said."

"Everything I said?" My echo problem was getting really tiresome.

"Charlie," Amy paused. "Did you mean it? What you said? Everything? I won't hold it against you if you got carried away and now you want time to think about it."

What did I say in the phone call? Ahhh, yes, that's what she was talking about.

I grasped both her delicate hands, looked deep into her eyes which were dark pools, each the size of Lake Michigan. "Every word, I swear it."

A long, exhaling sigh of contentment, like the sound of a happy teakettle, escaped Amy. "Then I can tell you the real reason. He's here so you can ask him a question."

"A question?" Enough with the echo, I told myself. Who do you think you are? The chorus in a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta?

"Not really a question, more asking permission, really. My dad's a traditionalist. I got the tendency from him."

My brain still hadn't been returned from wherever airlines send lost luggage but at least I didn't do the echo bit this time. Though I have to admit I goggled at Amy.

Amy leaned towards me, took my face in both hands and kissed me, her little tongue momentarily pressing between my lips. "You just might have some reason to hope that I love you back," Amy said briskly. Then she sat back in the chair, folded her hands and waited. I couldn't seem to take in enough air for speech.

"Charlie, the truth is, I'm waiting for a question too." Her eyes were dark pools, large enough to swallow all the oceans of the world.

My elevator might have been stuck on the ground floor with the power off most of this evening but OK, now I got it. Amy was a traditionalist, was she? I slipped from the chair and knelt once again before her, this time on one knee only. I reached for her hands to take them in mine.

"Just a second!" she said. She arched her delectable little butt, shimmied her hips and reached into the wonderfully tight front pocket of her jeans. Watching her wiggle to release the tension in her jeans enough to open the pocket dramatically increased the tension in mine. She pulled a ring from her pocket. It was the deep yellow of old gold, with a central diamond and two flanking rubies.

"This was your grandmother's. Your mother thought you might need it. She's a traditionalist too."

I took the ring, reached for her left hand and held the ring to the tip of the fourth finger. Grandma had also belonged to the Sisterhood of women who adored their man, and she had wasted away almost to nothing after Grandpa passed. She must have had the ring re-sized because it slipped over the knuckles and sat snugly in place on Amy's delicate finger.

"Amy, I love you with my whole heart. I admire you and respect you as well as love you. I know that you are the woman for me and hope that I am the man for you. Will you marry me?

"Yes, Ohh yes!" she shouted. She jumped from the chair, throwing herself into my arms. I staggered to my feet, embraced her delicious form and she kissed me. Then, looking into the eyes of the man I knew she adored, my eyes,

Amy smiled.