A Cohasset Wedding
The Proposal
Mark and I were talking on the phone on a Monday in early March about people who call in sick to work all the time. Not the ones who are truly and legitimately ill in a chronic way, but those who indulge in frequent "mental health days." I remember telling him that there were definitely days when I felt like not getting up in the morning to make the drive (especially if I was anticipating lots of "Why I didn't finish my research paper" sagas from my procrastinating students), but that I couldn't understand folks who routinely "faked ill" in order to avoid the stress of work. I'd always found it far more stressful to create plans for (and pick up after) a sub day than it is to simply do one's job.
The morning after this conversation, I received an email from Mark during my second hour class. "After all our talk about people who call in sick," it began, "guess who's under the weather today? I feel awful." I felt terrible. Mark is very rarely sick, and I didn't remember him ever feeling ill enough not to work. I emailed asking if he'd like me to bring over some chicken noodle soup when I got home from school and water polo practice, and he said that he'd like that. Later in the day, as I was driving back to the city after practice, he sent a text asking if I was on my way. I told him that I'd be stopping home to let my dog out, then I'd be over with soup.
When I got home to my apartment, I parked quickly (and illegally) in the lot next door while I ran in the back entrance to take the dog outside. When I got to my back door, I noticed that it was ajar. Sometimes it sticks, and I was a little uneasy that I hadn't double check to make sure it had really closed when I left in the morning. I pushed open the back door to find Mark standing in my kitchen looking very healthy, cooking ribs and asaparagus with carrot cake (my favorite).
"You're not sick." I observed.
"I feel better." He said.
I had to wait until dessert, but it was a Tuesday night to remember!
The morning after this conversation, I received an email from Mark during my second hour class. "After all our talk about people who call in sick," it began, "guess who's under the weather today? I feel awful." I felt terrible. Mark is very rarely sick, and I didn't remember him ever feeling ill enough not to work. I emailed asking if he'd like me to bring over some chicken noodle soup when I got home from school and water polo practice, and he said that he'd like that. Later in the day, as I was driving back to the city after practice, he sent a text asking if I was on my way. I told him that I'd be stopping home to let my dog out, then I'd be over with soup.
When I got home to my apartment, I parked quickly (and illegally) in the lot next door while I ran in the back entrance to take the dog outside. When I got to my back door, I noticed that it was ajar. Sometimes it sticks, and I was a little uneasy that I hadn't double check to make sure it had really closed when I left in the morning. I pushed open the back door to find Mark standing in my kitchen looking very healthy, cooking ribs and asaparagus with carrot cake (my favorite).
"You're not sick." I observed.
"I feel better." He said.
I had to wait until dessert, but it was a Tuesday night to remember!
