Screwball Part 6 (Week's highlights)

Time flies when things are going right for you, this week has been the prime example of it. It’s been eight days since my trek down to Eugene and in those eight days it feels like I’ve tried to fit a lifetime into it, I’ve loved it. I can’t say it’s been out of a storybook since I don’t know any fairy tales where the maiden fair is married to some other guy while the knight is trying to win her over (Arthur not withstanding).

We’ve accomplished several things together. I know they might sound mundane to the readers but to me they’ve been shining pieces of jewelry that take my breath away. As a bachelor I don’t do much shopping for food. Honestly I don’t eat at home. Most of the time when I’m at work I eat lunch and then skip dinner all together, I don’t feel like dealing with it. My fridge was filled with drinks, alcohol and snacks but nothing really put together for an adult that needs a meal. So the first order of business at the beginning of the week was to go shopping for fixings.

When I was married I did all the shopping. I’d be sent to the store with a list of goodies that were wanted by all, but not for any type of meal plan. With Ariel it’s completely different. She takes the helm and starts putting stuff in the shopping cart for food for the week. Ahi steaks, Chicken breast and Steaks are the choices, eggs, potatoes, vegetables that include mushrooms (Which I, until recently, would never choose to dine upon). Even with the buying of food, she’s reluctant to get anything for herself. So I make sure to pick things up that I know she’ll eat for junk food: Double stuff Oreos, Chips, soft drinks and iced tea.

Putting food in the fridge is like playing Tetris, we actually have so much that we have to move the drinks already in the fridge around to get it all in. The girl can cook.

First night she was with me, in Portland, she made Steak, Baked potato and that delicious pasta from the Friday before again. Yea, it was yummy.

Other things that she’s done that I’m not accustomed to:

Each day she’s been with me she’s gotten up with me, made breakfast and packed me a lunch. Try to understand that while for some that’s the norm, for me it’s something that I can’t say that I got and if I did, there was much complaining to be had.

We fall into a routine when it comes to dinner. She loves to cook and does it well; I take on the job of cleaning the kitchen for her before she cooks and making sure that the dishes get done. It works well, she keeps me company while I’m cleaning and I snack on her ingredients while she cooks. It doesn’t feel odd, it doesn’t feel like something new, it just feels…right.

We stay up late into the night talking about nothing and everything that comes to mind, we’re built the same way in that we enjoy constant contact with the other person. Holding hands, playing footsie, whatever we’re able to, we do. Our conversations touch on our pasts, our hopes for the future, our regrets, our challenges, joys, loves, quirks and whatever other subject we can think of. None of if sounds rehearsed; neither of us is unwilling to answer a question posed. No secrets.

Thursday we decided to do a couples night. It sounded fun. I invited Jen and Travis over to eat with us. Ariel and I would provide the food and the drinks. First time we get to host something and we’re excited about it.

The night before we go out shopping for ingredients, I leave the dinner plan to her, she’s cooking and I’m just assisting. She decided to make Chiles Reyenos, stuffed peppers. It’s a recipe that’s difficult and it’s also a family recipe. She’s got all kinds of fears about making it but she’s also very adept at doing it. The way I understand it, you go out and get some nice big peppers that you feel have the space inside of them to stuff with ground beef and other fixings, you then fry the pepper and serve. Now just so you understand this is a very simplistic way of telling what to do, her instructions were about three pages long.

She spent hours in the kitchen last night. We started at about six o’clock and finally were able to sit down and eat after nine. She made home made nacho chips, home made Guacamole, and home made pico de gallo for appetizers. They were greeted with hungry stomachs and grateful mouths.

For most of the time she’s in the kitchen I’m around her. I help her do the little things that she can’t get to fast enough; I don’t mind it a bit. The dinner gets served and it’s the tastiest that dish has ever tasted. Jen and Travis eat enough to split as do I.

We find ourselves being comfortable with things that we aren’t comfortable doing in front of others. It’s another thing we have in common and something that we don’t over look. The best times are the times when we have the music playing and we’re sitting talking about nothing to each other and loving it.

Travis and I were sitting outside at one point, I needed that fix, and you know how it is. I’m sweating because of course we pick one of the hottest days of the week to prepare this meal and I have no A/C to speak of. My shirt is sticking to me, I can feel the beads of sweat just running down my cheeks but I’m happy because I know that I’m sweating cause I’m helping prepare a meal for my friends.

He’s sitting across from me in one of the lawn chairs. His Yankees hat low on his head, giving his eye shade. If you look at him fast enough, he almost seems like a gunslinger out of place and time; you can picture the brim of his hat, smell the hot smell of the Earth’s dirt and see that those eyes are tracking their next target who is a block away.

He takes a drag of his cigarette, “Can I ask you something, man to man?”

“Of course.”

Exhale. “I’ve been in your shoes before man. I’ve had to try and pick myself out of the rubble of my life. In a lot of ways, believe it or not, I look at you and I see myself. I know that you lead with your heart and I know that it’s hard to not have someone to come home to. Which is when we just start picking up chicks at random. What I want to know is, is this just some girl or is she your Jen?”

That’s a deep question. Asking me if Ariel is my Jen holds all KINDS of implications that he and I completely understand but we wouldn’t be able to express them to anyone else. I’ve seen the man go through hell and back for the woman that he loves and has loved for a long time. He waited for her, he’s helped her in whatever she needed, he loves her unconditionally.

“She’s not some girl Travis. I’m beginning to feel that she really is my Jen.” Inhale.

He takes a look at me, gauging my honesty in this situation. Whatever he sees satisfies him and he nods his head, “Then whatever you need, let me know I’m there for you.”

Our little circle has grown by one but it doesn’t feel odd. It doesn’t feel forced, it feels fun and normal.

Life continues to move forward, whether you’re ready or not, right now I’m definitely ready for whatever the future’s going to look like. I’m just hoping that I’m planning a future for two…