Now, with his arms around me, the fresh scent of his Guerlain cologne mingling with the nighttime perfume of my peonies, I saw only one way to answer his question: “Herb, I think we just might be.”
“The plain truth of it, my dear,” Herb said, his hand tracing a slow line up my back and across my shoulders, then softly up my neck and to my cheek, where he angled my face toward his, “is that you’re the only woman I’ve known since my wife who makes me feel this way.” At that I leaned forward and gave Herb a long, soft kiss, eventually pulling back to burrow my face into the curve of his neck; I loved how I fit there, just right. I thought I’d be happy to stay there all night. Herb breathed out, a quiet, contented sound. After a long pause, he said, “Heck, I think now is as good a time as ever.” He rose from the grass, breaking the close stillness of our embrace.
“Herb?” I asked, the confusion evident in my voice.
“Just wait here one minute, would you? I’ll be right back.” With that he dashed off, back into the house. Was there a ring inside? Was he really going to propose, right then and there? I fidgeted in my place on the lawn, my body suddenly astir with excitement. I’d say yes, if he asked right then. Why wouldn’t I? What more could I hope for in a man, in a companion? But when Herb returned just a short while later, the box he held in his arms was much larger than anything that would hold a ring.
“What’s this all about?” I asked, looking at the velvet parcel.
Herb placed it on the grass before me. “Open it up,” was all he offered in reply.
“All right…” I slowly undid the large bow from the top. As I did, the box seemed to jump. I startled, looking to Herb with an eyebrow lifted.
“Go on, open it,” he said once more.
I slowly tipped the top off, peering inside. In the darkness, I could just barely make out a soft, round shape. And then I heard a high-pitched yip and nearly leapt from my spot on the grass. “What?” I gasped. I looked back down into the box. “A puppy?” I reached my hand inside and felt a mound of the most soft, velvety fur. “Oh, Herb. A puppy?”
“A miniature schnauzer,” he replied.
“Well, hello,” I cooed, lifting the light little body out of the box, nuzzling the plush fur with my cheek. “For me?”
“If you’d like him,” Herb replied.
“I adore him,” I said. And I did. I’d always loved dogs of all sorts, and this little fellow was irresistible.
Herb chuckled. “He’s a cute little fellow, isn’t he?”
“Oh, my darling, he’s precious. But what should we call him? What is your name, you little one?” I held the pup’s tiny face just inches from mine and stared into two blue eyes. As I did so, the pup moved quickly, sticking out his scratchy little tongue to land one quick, wet kiss on my face.
“What a scamp!” Herb laughed. “Stealing a kiss already. Easy there, little fellow, or I may just get jealous.”
“That’s perfect,” I replied.
“What is?”
“We’ll call him Scampi. What do you think of that?” I brought the puppy to my neck for another snuggle. “Oh yes, that’ll do quite nicely, won’t it?”
“I think he’s about the luckiest scamp in the world, is what I think,” Herb said. “To have found his place with you. Just like I have.”
* * *
I had to let Betty break the news. She’d proven herself to be such a good and loyal friend. And so a few weeks later, after I’d told my family and Herb had told his, Betty wrote in her evening column that Herb and I were to be married. I received a copy of the article on the early May night that it came out, and since Herb was up in Pittsburgh on business, I settled into my bedroom to read it on what was a rare quiet evening at home.
The phone rang just a few moments later, interrupting my rosy twilight reverie. “Mother.” My middle daughter’s voice was stern on the line. “Have you completely lost your head?”
“Now, Eleanor, calm down. I told you and Adelaide that we were planning on this, and it shouldn’t come as any particular surprise that Betty—”
“No, not about Herb,” my daughter said dismissively. “You know we all love him. He’s everything Joe wasn’t—kind, upbeat, generous. And I do believe the two of you will be very happy.”
I gripped the telephone receiver, confused. “Then…why are you worried about my head?”