Page 54 of Alarm Fatigue

“Mark.” I smile at him. “I love you as well.”

At that admission, his face lights up in a way I am not sure I have seen on him before. I am so used to grumpy Mark, he almost looks odd to me. I have so much to learn about him, and my heart warms at the thought of the continued opportunity to do so.

“Rachel, I want to ask you,” he closes his eyes for a moment and then when he opens them, looking directly at me he drops on his knees before me and I hear myself suck in what has to be all the air in the room.

“Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Before I can stop myself, and despite the lack of negativity in my head I answer his question with a question, “Are you sure?”

He gives me one of his warmest laughs. “I have never been more sure about anything in my entire life.”

Tears of joy, mixed with some of fear, have filled my eyes and are brimming over as I say, “Well then, yes. Of course. If you will have me, I am yours.”

With that he reaches in the little bag, and pulls out a box. Opening the box, he takes my left hand and looking me directly in the eyes he says, “Thank you.” Then he places a beautiful ring with three rubies across the top of the band on my left fourth finger. Mark stands and I rise to meet him. He cups my face in his warm hands and again he whispers, “Thank you.” With that he kisses me in a way that leaves me with little doubt of his gratitude.

“By the way, if case you were worried, I asked your daughters for permission first. And they each gave their consent and confirmed your ring size.”

With that admission of thoughtful concern I burst into outright tears. The joy of knowing that my daughters already know what is happening here in this room, means so very much. The fact that he knows me well enough to know how this was the key to my heart, takes my breath away and fills me thoroughly with warmth and love.

I lean into him, turn my face toward his, and look at him in absolute wonder. Then I grab his face and kiss him deeply. He pulls me closer and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“By the way,” he starts, “this house…”

“No way. Do you mean what I think you mean?”

He smiles with so much love in his face, my heart feels like it is going to explode with joy.

“Welcome home, Rachel Lazarus.”

“You are shitting me?!?” I say earnestly.

“Nice language.”

“Mark, this is my absolute dream house. How do we have the same taste? Unless…”

“Amalie and her parents helped me pick it out.”

I start to cry again. Mark cocks his head to the side.

“My dear, are you cleared by your cardiologist for this much crying?” I stop abruptly and then start laugh-crying instead. I am sure it looks super-hot. The funny thing is I have never cared less about how I look in my life.

I have found love, twice in a life time. Or it has found me, or however it works and I close my eyes and thank God for my Blessings.

“Can we do something? Right now?” I don’t know what my face must look like because whatever it is Mark is grinning right back at me.

“We can do whatever you want, as long as it does not involve stressing your precious heart too much.” With that he delicately places his hand over my sternum and I take his hand and kiss his fingertips. Without looking at him directly I ask, “Will you dance with me? To my favorite love song of all time? It was my mom’s favorite song—at least I think it really was. It was a rare opinion that I knew was her own. But I have my own favorite version of it .” I chance a look up at him.

“Of course Rachel, I would love to.”

I pull up the Jules Larson version of the song “True Colors”—a song my mother loved so much—and I play it on my phone while we slowly dance and laugh and grin like idiots. When it is done, the song starts again.

“Did you put this song on repeat?”

Giving him my most beguiling look I respond earnestly, “Of course. What good is the best moment of our lives if we cannot stretch it out as long as possible?”

After two and a half times through, I reach over and pause the music.

“Mark, thank you.”

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