20th Anniversary

The sun was shining and the air was hot on that July evening in the early 1990’s. The kids were old enough that we did not need a baby sitter, so we planned our evening at our favorite eatery. We would be celebrating our 20^th wedding anniversary over our favorite prime rib meal.

The atmosphere inside the restaurant was cool and darkened, and our waitress hovered around closely because Husband told her about our celebration. “Twenty years ago, we chose to eat together like this for the remainder of our lives,” he told her with his customary flare. She thought it was such an amorous thing for him to say. It was so dark that I had difficulty seeing the buffet or my plate clearly. I did see the waitress because she was often in our faces.

At that time, Husband’s company considered moving us to a community about two hours east of where we live. The prospect was both exciting and scary because the new community was much smaller and would involve a tremendous adjustment for both of us and our children.

For my part, I wanted to talk about the possible move, about our wonderful life together, and the potential of the many years that laid ahead of us. It was a romantic setting, and I felt cozy and comfortable.

Husband was anxious throughout the meal. He kept bouncing his knee and displayed a general nervous attitude.

I should have known something was up.

About half-way through the meal, Husband pulled a ring box out of his pocket, and handed it to me, “Happy Anniversary, my dear.” He always approached dreamy settings with quixotic drama.

I gasped when I opened the box and saw the shining ring set, both the engagement ring and the wedding band. It did not look like anything I would choose for myself, and as I compared it to the large heart-shaped diamond I wore, the contrast was obvious.

My diamond was not many years old, but none-the-less, the new set was beautiful and expensive looking.

I cried and asked him if he had taken the money out of our savings account. After all it was a possibility even if we were planning a move.

“I can assure you I did not take the money from savings,” he said.

At that moment, the waitress stuck her head into the conversation as she admired the rings; she brought us complimentary dessert. As she continued to carry-on over the rings, Husband began to sweat. Even in the dark I could see him turning pale with a scrunched-up smile and expression across his face.

He quickly suggested we leave, and before we stepped into natural light, he began to explain, “The sentiment of the gift is sincere; however, that is not a real diamond set.” Once outside I could see it was not, and I felt deceived and cheated all at the same time.

“I bought it for $20.00 at the convenience store. Get it? $20 for our 20^th anniversary?”

I did not speak to him all the way home.

Once there, I stomped up the stairs to our bedroom and threw the box and fake set into a draw.

Downstairs, our kids were asking their dad “How did she take it?” Are you still married? Earlier he confided in them about buying the rings at QuikTrip and even asked one of the girls for a ring box.

When they saw my reaction, they burst into laughter.

Husband was not so amused, and I did not think it was at all funny. Nearly 20 years later, I now think it is funny, and he is still not so amused. I yet have the ring set and have worn it in public much to his consternation and dismay.