Crystal Chandeliers

Chuck and I were getting pretty serious, so of course he was invited. He invited a few of the men in the family that were free for a private hunt to provide most of the food for the grill. I wasn't invited on the hunt, so I pouted for a couple of days. But being raised as a Latina, I knew that men had to get together with other men sometimes. As I thought about it the women did the same thing, shopping and such. Maybe there was a reason for it all.

My dad was the chef in charge of grilling for the gathering, along with what seemed a half-dozen assistants. He had a grill of three 55-gallon drums welded end-to-end, cut in half and hinged on one side. Because the country is absolutely littered with mesquite trees, everyone used mesquite charcoal to cook outside with.

He had two galvanized buckets that he used for his sauces: one was for butter and the other was for his own recipe of barbeque sauce (and it had a kick to it!). He used two brand new string mops, one in each bucket. The grill was covered with venison (one dressed deer cut into quarters), two shoulders of beef, two goats dressed and cut into halves (called cabrito, of course) and, eventually two dozen quartered chickens, although they came last because they would cook quicker.

He would start the beef first, and add the venison and cabrito later. Each time he opened the doors; he'd grab one mop or the other and swab down the whole thing, then come back with the other sauce. By the time the whole thing was finished, it was great eating. But damn, it sure wasn't diet food.

There were tubs full of beer and soft drinks, smothered with ice. Everyone was walking around talking to each other, but Chuck disappeared on me. I wasn't worried – with almost all of my family here, what kind of trouble could he get into. Little did I know!

One of my uncles had a band that played Mariachi music in the restaurants along the River Walk but the group also played for charreadas that took place among the Mexican community. These were somewhat like a rodeo but held to a fairly strict format – for example the outfits for both the men and women had to be made in Mexico using traditional styles-which excluded velcro.

The charreada is basically a festive event that contains equestrian competitions and demonstrations, specific costumes and horse trappings, music, and food. Anyway, tío Pepe had been playing traditional Mariachi music but suddenly broke into "La Charreada." Everyone turned, wondering at the change of music.

As the song ended Chuck came riding in on a lovely palomino all tricked out with the traditional saddle and decorated for a charreada. Chuck brought the horse to a showy stop and with a flourish stepped off and bowed to me as he took his sombrero off. He was dressed in the costume of the charro – later I learned it had been my grandfathers.

In the sudden, almost stunned silence, papa stood on a chair and said in a loud voice, "Several weeks ago Chuck came to me and asked for Ana's hand. I told him that I would love to have him as a son-in-law but that he wouldn't just be marrying my daughter but half the people in the county."

Here everyone laughed but I was standing there stunned, trying to figure out what was going on.

Dad continued, "So I said if he wanted her as his beloved wife he had to ask in front of all of her family and friends. So, Chuck, it's all yours."

Chuck walked over to me as the crowd came to a complete silence. He was stunningly handsome in his costume and as he slowly approached I felt a sudden nervousness ... like this was a dream, a nice one, but only a dream and I didn't want to wake up.

He sailed his sombrero to my brother standing nearby and knelt in front of me, not saying anything, just a sweet smile on his lips. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket – the pants were much too tight to hold a box – and unwrapping it, took out a lovely ring. He held it up to me, giving me a glimpse, and then taking my hand he slipped it on my finger.

I stood there like a statue – looking at him then looking at the ring in wonder. Speaking louder than I felt he needed to, he said those words that would make my life complete, "Ana, Ana, my beloved, will you take me as your husband, always to cherish, love and respect you? Will you share with me a life of joy as we raise a family and grow old together? Ana, my darling, will you marry me?"

I couldn't speak; I just stared at him, tears in my eyes. He smiled a little broader and rose to kiss the tear drops off each of my eyes then kissed me tenderly, then with a growing passion on my suddenly needing lips. The kiss seemed to last forever, then my dad loudly cleared his voice and commented, "Well, Ana, I didn't hear an answer. I think the gentleman would like to hear your response!"

I turned away from Chuck and saw all these people I loved and was so close to, saw them staring at me with a strange and expectant look on their faces. I started nodding my head up and down, slowly at first, then faster. I threw my arms around Chuck and cried loudly, "Yes, yes, yes, I'll marry you. Oh, darling, I love you so much."

I went through the rest of the evening in a trance. I must have eaten but I couldn't remember what. Some of the women pulled me off and we started making plans ... well, they started. My family and the friends that were there came up and congratulated me, giving me hugs and kisses. I did remember having a beer, and then seemingly without transition, Chuck and I were driving home through the quiet velvet warmth of the evening.

When we got to the ranch, with no discussion Chuck took my hand and led me up to my bedroom. This time he didn't just catch me with my pants down ... he took them down! There was love in that room that night. From then on I counted my marriage having started on that wonderful night. The actual wedding ceremony seemed anticlimactic – I was already married to Chuck in all ways that were really important to me.

Sure we celebrated our anniversary each year, but the date of our engagement each year was the really special, personal celebration of our love. Chuck had told me about Sophie's need for crystal chandeliers. I was happy with the light from each of the baptismal candles that were lit on each of our kid's special day.

We knew that it was love that made us happy, not things. A love like ours could only be given ... never purchased.