Smile

Dad and I spent most of the next ten holes going back and forth. He told me stories of co-workers who lost their marriage and why. Best of all, he told me how he and Mom have kept the romance alive in their marriage -- without getting into specifics, thank goodness. Well, except for one tale, I think Dad got great pleasure in shocking me with this one.

"I took your mother to a nude beach once." He paused to catch my reaction. "We were in Spain and thought, 'what the hell'. The village had a beach split between clothed and nude. We walked down to the nude section, put down our blanket and your mother stripped off her suit. Sexiest thing ever -- sorry- but it was something. We stayed there for an hour, she got dressed and said, "Okay, we've done that, but never again" and walked back to town."

I didn't say a word, didn't know how to respond, trying my best not to let the vision creep into my brain.

"That's what I'm talking about Bill. Keeping the marriage fresh. But keeping it monogamous."

Those four hours helped get my head square. And the rest of the weekend, watching Mom and Dad interact with Kate and the ease she handled it all, only reinforced my decision. I was going to marry this girl -- if she said 'yes'.

When my parents dropped us off at the airport Monday afternoon, Mom gave me a hug and a smile, then whispered in my ear, "Do it, son."

I dropped off Kate at her townhouse and she invited me in, we had a couple hours before Frank would be dropping Frank Junior off. We took advantage of that hour after our three days of celibacy at my parents'. I showered and dressed afterwards while Kate finished getting put together. I took the opportunity to look through the photo album on her bookcase, found what I was looking for and took a quick photo with my flip phone.

Twenty minutes later the two Franks came through the door. Frankie gave his mom a hug, Frank shook my hand. "Good weekend?"

"Yeah, how about you?" Frank and I seemed to have reached an understanding without having said anything out loud.

"It was nice, Frankie's developing quite an arm. Thanks for that." I can't say for certain, but I always have the feeling Frank understands he fucked up, leaving a wonderful woman like Kate for the illusion of a lost childhood love and becoming a part-time parent to his son.

Within five minutes, Frank was out the door. We ordered a pizza and after we ate, I left, giving Kate and her son time to catch up.

***

Tuesday afternoon I was in my neighborhood jewelry store showing Mr. Chapman the photo on my phone. "I'm guessing this is style of ring she prefers, but it'd be creepy to duplicate it when I ask her to marry me. What can you do?"

Mr. Chapman studied the photo, nodded, holding up his index finger and without saying a word, went into the back room. He came out a minute later and held out a beautiful diamond ring.

"You didn't tell me your price range and I could probably set this with a smaller stone, but I think this fits in with what you're looking for."

"Exactly." I held my breath. "How much?"

"It's a carat and three-quarters. Twelve-five."

A couple grand more than I planned, but what the hell. "I'll take it."

Chapman beamed. "Do you know the size?"

Hadn't thought of that. Damn, all these little details when all I care about is the asking.

Chapman recognized my confusion. I obviously wasn't the first guy to walk into his shop without a clue. "Bring her in after you get your answer, I'll resize it immediately. They never want to part with it once it's on their finger."

I paid for the ring, luckily my AmEx card had an insane credit limit, and walked out of the store with a tiny object in my pocket that cost twice as much as my first automobile.

I decided to ask Kate on Friday, Frankie would be back at his dad's by then and it would give us the entire weekend to celebrate. Now, one more thing; I had to decide whether to ask Frankie for permission to marry his mom before asking Kate. Giving it a lot of thought, it seemed the best course of action would be to tell Frankie my plans to marry his mother and merely ask for his cooperation. Why give the kid a chance to say 'no'? Thursday evening while Kate made dinner, Frankie and I walked over to the park and tossed the football.

"I'm going to ask your mother to marry me, I'm hopeful she'll say 'yes' and I also hopeful you give her your full support. I'm not going to be your dad, you've already got one, but I'll be your step-dad if she says 'yes' and we should try to get along for her sake." I walked toward him with my hand out.

I'll say this, Frankie was a good kid, his parents may not have been able to keep their marriage together, but they didn't put their son in the middle of the divorce. Frankie reached forward and shook my hand.

"You can't say anything, I'm going to ask your mom tomorrow. Can you keep it between us 'til then?" He nodded and we walked back to the house for dinner.

The dinner was fun, Kate could tell there was a new dynamic between her two men, but Frankie kept it cool and only winked at me when I left to go home after dinner.

Kate knocked on my door twenty hours later. "What's going on with you and Frankie? My son looks like the cat who swallowed the canary. His dad picked him up and Frankie actually kissed me goodbye."

I pulled the ring out of my pocket, got down on one knee and grabbed Kate's left hand. "Will you marry me?"

Kate put her hands up to her face, shouted, "Oh my god" and flung herself into my arms, kissing my lips.

We were married three months later. It was a small wedding held on her Uncle Simon's estate outside of Olympia. Kate and I planned two weeks for our honeymoon; the first week spent in Chicago with Frankie, then he'd fly home while Kate and I spent the second week in the Caribbean. The first week is when I solidified my relationship with Frankie.

Remember, at this point Frankie was ten years old and still uncertain how he felt about sharing his mother with me. We landed at O'Hare, his first time on an airplane, and took the 'L' into the city. The first day Frankie and I headed up to Wrigley Field while Mom and Kate did Michigan Avenue. Frankie and I sat in the bleachers and watched the Cubs beat the Phillies. Afterwards I took Frankie to my favorite neighborhood pizza spot and he got a big kick out of sitting at the bar; something a minor isn't allowed to do in Washington.

But the highlight for Frankie was two nights later. Kate wore a beautiful red dress she found on the Miracle Mile, Frankie and I were wearing blue blazers and khaki slacks when we loaded into a taxi and headed up to Mike Ditka's Steakhouse on Chestnut Street. We walked in and after a quiet word with the Maître D, I found out I was in luck, Coach was in this evening.

When I was a grad student at Northwestern's downtown campus on Superior, I was also interning with a Marketing firm nearby. My boss, Jerry Klein, was a friend of Ditka's and would take me to his restaurant for lunch at least once a month. Even after I graduated, I would stop in every few months and if the Coach was there, we'd chat. Despite his seemingly gruff exterior, Mike Ditka is a great, salt-of-the-earth guy.

We were seated and just after our drinks arrived, Coach came over and said hello. I introduced him to my wife and step-son, Coach made a big deal out of meeting the young boy; and when Frankie told him he was the quarterback for his junior league team, Coach asked him to come with him. Kate and I watched as Coach led Frankie to a nearby table where Peyton Manning was sitting with a couple other guys. Peyton smiled, shook Frankie's hand and exchanged a few words. By the time Frankie returned to our table, it would have taken a jackhammer to wipe the grin off his face.

Even better, when Manning got up to leave he came over to our table and introduced himself to Kate and me, telling Kate what a polite boy she raised. After he left, Kate's smile matched Frankie's. She was definitely star-struck, for years after that, we watched every Indianapolis Colts game televised.

When Frankie got on the plane at the end of that first week, I got a great hug from the kid. I don't think he could have given his mother a better wedding present than that hug.

***

I'm not going to go on with everything that happened over the next twenty-five years. Maybe I'll save that for another time, another writing; maybe in twenty-five years when we celebrate our fiftieth anniversary as my father predicted on the golf course that day.

We've had our fights, but we've gotten through all the rough times with our love intact and we're still best friends. Frankie's a great kid; there were a few years during adolescence when things were tense, but good parenting and patience won out. He grew out of his rebellious stage and today is married to a fine lady who has given him two beautiful children. Kate loves her role as Grandma and I find myself enjoying the infants, probably because it's easy to give them back when their diapers are dirty.

Not to get ahead of myself, I should acknowledge there were times when it was tough being married to a woman who draws men like bees to poppies. I'm certain, like me, she's had many opportunities to stray. It's hard to be a modern businessman or woman, on the road at a conference or whatever, without some siren or stud trying to get in your bed. I know I've resisted the temptations and I'm 99.99% certain my lovely bride has as well.

So, this is my Valentine to that lovely woman. I can still make her smile and every time she does, I fall in love with her. She still puts up with my bad habits and bad singing in the car. Who could ask for more?

What started with a smile grew into a life of sharing, caring and friendship.

Thanks, babe, for being my bride.

The End?

Not Yet!