Julie Ortolon - Almost Perfect

They stepped out of the bright, noisy gallery into the quiet night. The streets were deserted, everything closed but the gallery.

Maddy's heart pounded as she led the way across the street to the plaza, a little square in the middle of town. A large gazebo in the style of a bandstand stood in the middle. Wind whipped through the trees as they mounted the steps, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

"Are you cold?"

"No." Scared, she thought as they entered the gazebo. "Joe, I have so much to say, I don't know where to begin. And I'm afraid I'll bungle it by not getting it out right."

"Take your time." He leaned back against the handrail. "Then I get my turn."

Her stomach churned at his words, but she nodded. "First, I want you to know I have been sick with regret the past few days. On the way up here, I realized how much I insulted you. Without even thinking about it, without even stopping to question, I lumped you in with the kind of men who can't handle having a wife who makes more money than them. So I set about sabotaging my own success."

"Yeah, you did."

"I'm so sorry. In hindsight, I can see that that was an insult to both your self-confidence as a man and your camp. The latter because we don't know how well it will do." That thought gave her a hope she hadn't even considered. "For all we know, it could become hugely successful, and you'll make lots of money."

"Maddy." He fixed her with a look before she could carry that thought too far. "You're doing it again."

"I'm sorry." Her shoulders sagged. "This is very uncomfortable territory for me."

"Can I ask you something? Because I really need to know. Will you think less of me as a man if I make less money than you?"

"No! Good God, no."

"Then… why do you think I will?"

"I don't up here." She tapped her forehead, then placed her hand over her stomach. "But in here, that's how I was raised. That's hard to fight. You don't erase the teachings of a lifetime just by realizing that those teachings are faulty. I didn't even realize how much of that had sunk in or how deeply. So I can't promise some of this won't pop up again in the future. I can only promise to work on it. If you'll let me. Please, Joe, I'm sorry I insulted you, and I don't want to lose you."

"Oh, Maddy." He cupped her face. "Now, see, that look right there, that fear in your eyes, is why I need to apologize to you. I broke one of the biggest rules of loving someone. I didn't tell you."

She bit her lip, wondering if he was telling her now.

"I was so wrapped up with my conviction that actions mean more than words that I forgot the words are still important. And powerful. I had people say they cared for me on a whim. Say they'd be there for me, then vanish. Say they loved me when they didn't."

"I did-"

"Shh." His thumb moved over her lips. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I think maybe you did love me back then, but you weren't ready for it yet. That's not what I'm talking about, though. I'm talking about the words themselves. Do you know what a kick in the chest it was the very first time I actually believed Mama when she said 'I love you'? What a punch in the gut it was every single time the Colonel said it, and I believed it. God, there is nothing-nothing-in this world that beats that."

Maddy saw his eyes fill with tears, and her throat closed.

His hands tightened as he held her face, staring deep into her eyes. "I didn't give you that. And I'm sorry. To the very depth of me, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not. If I learned nothing else from my warped childhood, it's the importance of security and assurance. I know what it's like to think if you take one wrong step you'll be sent packing.

"And I know how the opposite feels. To know you are loved absolutely, and nothing you do, no matter how brainless, will change that.

"Maddy, I love you absolutely. I have from the moment I first saw you, and I will with the last breath I take. Nothing you do will change that. I love your magic. I love your fire. I love you because you're a part of me and I'm a part of you. I want to spend my life watching you shine.

"I can't make you stay, though. Even if you love me back, that doesn't mean we're meant to be. But if you leave, I will still love you, always. I just want whatever is right for you. Although, I won't lie, I want you to stay. Really, really, want you to stay."

He pulled her to him and buried his face against her hair. "And I want you to love me back."

"You silly man." She hugged him so tight, her arms trembled. Her whole body trembled. "Of course I love you back. As for staying…" She pulled back to see his face. "I have one question."

"If it's about whether or not I can handle you becoming rich and famous"-he managed a wobbly smile-"I promise you the answer is yes."

"No. It's something you asked me once. A really scary question that I don't think anyone should have to get up the courage to ask twice. So this time it's my turn." She took a deep breath. "Will you marry me?"

Rather than answer right away, he frowned. "That depends."

"What?" Her heart nearly stopped.

"Do I get a ring?"

"A ring?" Her mind raced. Was he serious? "I didn't even think about that."

He sighed loudly. "Which is why some things are still best left up to the man." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small black box and opened it. Light flashed off a square-cut diamond framed by Native American stonework.

"Oh! My! That's a- That's a-"

"I was planning to pop the question again, but I guess this is my turn to give the answer-which, I must say, is a lot easier."

"D-diamond," she finally got out.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, it is." He looked down at it.

"A really big diamond!"

"It's not perfect."

"What?"

"The diamond. It has a couple of flaws." He looked up at her, his expression slightly sheepish. "I just thought you should know. I'm not even sure it will fit."

Her heart melted. "Perhaps I should try it on."

He pulled it out of the box and slipped it on her finger. "Well?"

"It's a perfect fit." She flung her arms around his neck. "I take it this means your answer is yes?"

"Ho-yeah!"

"Even better."

He held her tight. "I love you."

Which were, she decided, the most perfect words in the world.

Maddy put the finishing touches on a new pastel, then grabbed a big sweater and stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air. Winter was in full swing, with snow covering the mountains. She wrapped her arms about herself to hold in the warmth and a glowing contentment.

On the hill near the front gate, she could see that the construction workers had made a lot of progress in putting up the framework for the new house. She and Joe had decided to build a two-story addition onto the owner's house. It would be twice as big as the original house and completely self-contained, but having it attached would allow them to be nearby for Mama in the coming years.

The sound of male voices ringing out like drill sergeants drew her attention to the center of camp, where Joe and Derrick were leading afternoon calisthenics. She still had trouble believing how many people would pay to be put through what looked to her like physical torture, but the list seemed endless. And Joe was like a big kid, having the time of his life.

A smile tugged at Maddy's lips as she remembered their discussion over breakfast. For the past several weeks, he'd been prodding her to set a date for the wedding. But with Sylvia running her ragged getting ready for the spring catalog, Maddy told him her mind couldn't handle making one more decision right now, much less the millions of decisions involved in planning a wedding.

Joe had looked right at her and announced she was fired as their wedding planner and he was taking over. Her jaw had dropped at the idea, but he'd reasoned that if a woman could propose, a man could plan the wedding. How he had the time with the boot camp taking off at surprising speed, she had no idea, but he assured her that he'd take care of everything.

"All right," she'd conceded with no small dose of amusement. "Just be sure and clear the date with Christine and Amy so they can be my bridesmaids."

"Not a problem," he'd insisted.

And with that, she'd gladly turned the whole thing over to him. Although she couldn't wait to share the news with her friends and see what they thought. If nothing else, a man's version of a wedding was bound to be interesting.

Thinking of Christine and Amy, she headed back inside to check her e-mail. The last few days had certainly held lots of developments for Christine. Maddy opened her laptop and found a new post from Christine who was currently in Colorado. Her eyes bulged as she read the latest installment in Christine's wild romance, then her fingers flew as she typed her response.

Subject: What?

Message: Details, woman. We want details!

After years of drinking oversized, restaurant-style margaritas-which are frequently made with too much limeade from a sweet-'n-sour bar mix with a splash of tequila and triple sec-I set about developing The Perfect Margarita. First came some research. A little mystery and controversy surrounds the true origins of the drink. The stories date back to the mid nineteen hundreds to places like Aca-pulco, Tijuana, or Rosarita Beach, Mexico. Whichever tale you believe, an authentic margarita is a small drink that's strong enough to make breathing near an open flame a tiny bit dangerous. So I tinkered with the recipes a bit and came up with my own version, which can be adjusted to taste.