(book #8) . Sheila And Clifford. A Modest Proposal. .... [suspense; Thoughts Of The Future; The Proposal! ] Poem by Bri Edwards

Chapter 35
[Clifford speaks]:
That first winter I never met or spoke to Sheila’s mom or dad.
She spent some of her Holiday time off with them, for which I was glad.
I liked very much that she had a close family relationship,
but I looked forward to when she and I would be “glued at the hip”.

I don’t mean sex! I mean we would spend most of our free time together.
I was a bit concerned about life-logistics, like where to live and where to work.
I mean I liked Darien, I liked my job, and I didn’t care much for New York City.
At least not to live or work there; for me that might turn out shitty.

Sheila seemed to enjoy her Darien outings, and never complained of the commute.
But would she really want to commute to WORK? For me, that did not compute!
I knew she seemed to love her job. I wondered what could be done.
I had enough money to support us both. And what about the “daughter or son”?

[Sheila speaks]:
What Cliff just said, above, he took a while to share with me.
I DID know he liked that I was close to family; it was plain to see.
I’d found out more about his parents, who both were dead.
He seemed to have adjusted well to his loss, if him I clearly read.

[Cliff speaks, again]:
My Dad was the Darien National Bank’s president for seven years.
When he killed himself, my Mom (almost) could not stop her tears.
I found him in our basement one morning, hanging from a rafter,
and from that day on I never again heard my Mom’s former laughter.

Dad had a Yale MBA and was in his forties when he died.
Two hefty term life insurance policies paid eight million when he died.
But Mom stayed at her teaching job until her cancer took its toll.
Two years later in hospice, I hope the angels took her soul.

I’d learned when Sheila’s birthday was, while in The Bahamas ……
….., shortly after I found out she slept without pajamas.
May 17th,1963, my “Playboy Bunny” made her great debut.
Now I was fortunate to, Sheila (in her ‘birthday suit”) , often view.

About May 1st (1991) I decided to propose to her AFTER she’d turned 28.
So …..on Saturday, May 18th, I passed her an envelope ….while on a “date”,
NOT in a restaurant, but in a flower-filled park, by the lake.
She HAD to say “Yes”! But no chances did I wish to take ……..
that she would say “No” and embarrass one or both of us,
OR that she would feel pressured to say “Yes”, in order to create no fuss.

In lieu of a ring I’d written an “IOU”, and put it in a little box.
I wanted Sheila to be the one to choose the metal, design, AND the ‘rock(s) ’.

[Sheila speaks, again]:
My God! My birthday came and went. I asked myself “well WHEN ……
WILL Cliff propose to me? ” In the park I almost asked ….., but THEN …..
out came the envelope from a pocket. I carefully opened it and read.
It was his proposal, FINALLY! , and this was what it said:

Be My Wife! PLEASE?

Sheila, dear, the months have flown,
and I don’t want more to fly.
If my chances I’ve not yet blown,
please say you’ll be my wife. Here’s why:

Each day we are apart I often think of you,
and when we aren’t apart, I think we’re ONE, not two.
If there is a Heaven, that’s where our union’s made,
so say “YES! ”, and we can go home and “get laid”.

With all my love,
Cliff

I wasn’t sure which to do. To laugh or to cry?
So, I did both and ran around him twice; don’t ask me why.
Then I leaped into his outstretched arms and screamed “YES! ”
Not long after, we indeed were back in bed, getting laid …. I confess.

(early 2015)

[story to be continued in “(Book # 9): Sheila And Clifford; The Ring, AND Cliff Meets Sheila’s Family”]