Damn the Day I Met You

I take a seat in the chair Tristan pulls out for me. I look around the kitchen, in awe of the fact that my boyfriends, my wonderful extraordinary boyfriend, got us the chefs table at one of the best restaurants in the city. “What’s the point of dating a chef if he takes you out all the time?”

“Hey I know how serious you can be about your food. I’d rather you be criticizing my friends dishes than my own.” I laugh and glance at the menu. This was us doing normal. Sane dating is what we like to call. No ten—sorry, eleven—year old running around. No house to keep under control. No grocery shopping together and planning what we want to eat. No routines. Just the two of us dating. And it has been the best choice of my life.

Tristan grabs the menu from me. “Don’t look at that. I know you hate this and I don’t do it often, but it’s a surprise and I know you’re going to love it.” I look at him warily but set my menu down without protest. Tristan only did things like this now when something big had happened. That or he wanted something from me.

“Have you gotten the days off for Toby’s graduation yet?”

“Yeah. I get a week with promise to make it up in overtime and a second project. That’s what you get for being the newbie.” I sigh, wishing my job was a bit more understanding when it came to personal days. “But,” I say excitedly, “a week is a week, right? And it will be enough time for us to visit the winery and other locations. Maybe we could even see your dad.”

“There will be no father-seeing while in Italy. And I already told you, this is your trip. I’m not going.”

“You’re going Tristan. I couldn’t live with myself if I spent a week in your home country without you and Lucy. We’re taking this vacation together.”

“I just don’t want to invade.”

“Toby loves you and Luce. It would be anything but invading. Plus, there is a pretty good chance of you know who being there…I’d kind of like to not show up alone to the party.”

Tristan groans. I couldn’t help but see the frustration in his face. “You really know how to convince a guy, Katie. But just because you were able to use your ex-boyfriend as a way to get me to Italy, it doesn’t mean I’ll meet up with my father. That is something I can live without doing again.”

“Fine.” I sit back and cross my arms. This discussion was far from over and I knew that by the time we left for Italy I would have changed his mind. It’s not that I like the guy, or even care for him. But Tristan did just up and leave Italy and I could tell there was some closure he needed. The food came at about the same time. I looked down at my plate only to see a simple sandwich sitting there. “You take me to a gourmet restaurant; to the chefs table no less, for sandwiches?”

He just laughs and takes a bit of his own food. “Trust me darling, this will be the best dinner you’ve had in weeks.” That was saying a lot. Dating a chef and having a chef as a mother meant I was surrounded by amazing food constantly. This sandwich being better than the roasted salmon from the night before was highly unlikely. I took a bite nonetheless, expecting the simple tastes that were so obviously in there. What I got though was a burst of flavor I had only tasted at one other place in my life. I look up at Tristan and he has an ‘I told you so’ smirk on his face.

“How did you get this from Italy?”

“I didn’t. Ben had made me a sandwich one of my long studying days and it reminded me of Italy. I figured you’d enjoy it just the same.”

I lean over and give him a simple peck, “This is amazing, Tristan.”

“I wanted to discuss something with you.”

I sit back in my seat and watch him warily. Like I said he only did things like this when he wanted something or something happened. “And what would that be?”

“Well we’re both graduated and have solid jobs now. And we’ve been together for almost a year. I know we didn’t want to rush into anything this time around, and please tell me if this seems like rushing. But I thought, maybe, we could find a place together.”

I finish chewing and then smile, “are you asking me to move in with you, Tristan?”

“Well yes and no. I don’t want you to move in, and I don’t want to move into your place. I want us to find a place together. Maybe a house where we would both feel comfortable.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Really?”

“Really. Tristan, the slow thing was just for a while. You didn’t need to wait a whole year for something like this. Or any commitment thing really. We’re obviously meant for each other. I just didn’t want us to be living together in a house with a ten year old without going on at least one date. But this past year has been great, perfect almost. So of course I’ll go house hunting with you.”

“I promise, no kids yet.”

“But your sister can definitely stay with us every now and then. And we can definitely practice making kids.” I wink and take a gulp of my drink.

We discussed location and style of house throughout the rest of our meal. When we were done Tristan took me to Kater’s kitchen for some baking and prep work. I couldn’t have chosen a better ending to a perfect dinner.

I sat up on the counter and swung my legs back and forth. Watching Tristan in the kitchen was quite mesmerizing. He obviously had a passion for it, a passion you could see through his movements. Tristan catches me staring and a slow grin appears on his lips. He motions for me to come to him. In some sort of trance I slide up next to him at the counter. Flour covered every surface, including Tristan himself. But a messy kitchen was that of a great chef, right?

“Come on, you’re going to knead some.” He steps behind me and places the dough on the counter in front of us. As if he were going to show me how to knead, he covers my hands with his own.

I turn around in his hold and flick flour at his face, “um excuse me, I’m the daughter of your mentor. I think I know how to knead some dough.”

“Just humor me darling.”

“Nope. Get your own dough.” I could feel the vibrations of his chuckling as he reached over and grabbed another ball of dough, but not without throwing some flour back at me. I start working on the dough, preparing to strike at the least expected moment. But then something in my dough catches me eye, and my touch. I realize that Tristan is the one who once again surprised me.

I glance over at Tristan who was back in his zone of kneading. Slowly I pull out not one but two rings, both as beautiful as the other. I stare at the man in front of me for a moment and then break out into a smile. He was amazing, and this was perfect. Tristan finally noticed my staring and widened his eyes. “I was in the zone, huh?”

“Yeah. Just about missed your own proposal.”

“So?”

I throw another handful of flour at him. “Is that all? I expected a bit more from my overly romantic boyfriend.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes but they have a certain glint in them, letting me know he had something planned the whole time. He spins me around and lifts me up to the counter so that we’re at an even height, taking both of my hands in his and staring into my eyes. Without him speaking my heart was already racing. This had to be a dream—it was just too perfect to be reality. “It is well known that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I know just as well that you want to spend the rest of your life with me. I was thinking it would be kind of fun to have a party to, you know, celebrate this enlightenment of ours. Big party, small party, I don’t care. Though knowing your family I’m thinking most of Italy is going to be there. I don’t want to ask you to marry me, and I don’t want you to ask either. This isn’t a one-sided deal or me just asking you to marry me. Because I want this to be both of us, I want to do this together. Which is why I was thinking it would be kind of cool if we could marry each other.”

I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face. There was no possible way for me to make him worry about my answer because it was quite obvious. “Is that why there are two rings?” I ask pulling one of my hands free to get to the rings.

“Well, I still didn’t want anyone to think you’re single or anything. And I didn’t exactly want anyone to think I was single either.”

I lean down until our foreheads are touching, “I love you,” I whisper just before pressing my lips against his. There wasn’t a person on earth that could have created a better proposal than the one I was just given.

After a short make-out session in the kitchen—cut short once we remembered about the security cameras—we continue to make the cinnamon roll dough. I glance down at the ring on my finger and smile, “You know this isn’t the family heirloom.”

Tristan looks up from the bowl and gives me his signature smirk, “If I had gotten the family heirloom, I would have had to have talked to your dad. And that, I think, would be considered asking permission.”

“Breaking every tradition, huh?”

“Hmm…I don’t know. A bachelor party seems kind of fun.”

“Oh don’t worry honey; I know Anne has some good recommendations for some male strippers in town.”

“But now that I think about it a joint party sounds more entertaining.” I laugh, knowing I totally won that argument.

“Speaking of family,”

“Oh no, don’t you start again. The answer is still no.”

“…should we go let ours know?”

Tristan is silent for a moment “oh.” He glances up above us and then back down to me, “I was thinking…your mom is going to be switching out security tapes on Monday. How do you think she’s going to react to a proposal in them?”

“I think she’s going to kick your ass.”

Tristan pulls me closer and kisses me. A deep passionate kiss. “I think an ass-kicking is worth the surprise.” He whispers against my ear.

“And I think my mom isn’t going to want too much of a surprise. So let’s clean up here and hit the road.”

“Right. No sex at work. I’m sure that was stated somewhere in the contract.” I slap him with a rag before getting started on the flour-covered counters. He just smirks and follows my actions. Some things haven’t changed from the first day I met him on campus, yet so many others have. He glances up at me and I can see it in his eyes that he was thinking the same thing I was.

“So it seems I was right.” Tristan says, tossing his rag into the hamper. “I convinced you to date me when it became an option.”

A smirk plays on my lips and I take a step away from him. “Sorry, but I’d never date a guy who spends his free time whistling at girls as they pass by.” I throw the rag at him and make a run for it through the side door. He quickly caught me and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, not daring to let go. “I just marry them instead.”