Since we’re swapping stories, let me tell you how I proposed to Alison, my wife.

I woke that Sunday morning to the clatter of pans and bowls, spoons and what not, the refrigerator door opening and closing again. I walked into the kitchen and Alison poured coffee for me and scooted me into the living room to peruse the Times Book Review, but not before I noticed the large white bowl on the counter and the griddle heating on the stovetop.

I’d talked often about my grandma’s pancakes, always telling folks how I’d never tasted anything like them, that no one could duplicate the flavor and the lighter than air texture. It appeared that Alison would take up the challenge. Now, I was head over heels about Alison, and a little scared that this might be a test that could determine our future, but…. I mean, pancakes or no pancakes, my only hope was that I was good enough for her to love.

Anyway, Alison emerged from the kitchen with fresh coffee, and then set out breakfast—eggs over easy, crisp bacon, real maple syrup we’d bought in Vermont in the fall, and pancakes that looked light and fluffy like grandma’s.

She’d cooked a damned fine breakfast—perfect eggs, perfect bacon, perfectly warmed syrup and, well, the pancakes weren’t grandma’s, but I didn’t turn down the third helping.

Alison’s look said, “Well?”

Oops, I should have said something, but I’d been busy putting pancakes where my mouth was.

“You’re too good to me,” I said.

Afterwards we sipped more coffee, being quiet for a few minutes. Then I inhaled and expelled the air more audibly than I would have wanted. I’d been building to this moment a long time. Turning to her I said:

“Alison,” not Alie, not soft like I usually called her.

“Pedro?” She responded, matching my formality, and not the playful Petey Baby.

I looked into her eyes. They were the same blue as the shallows along the Caribbean shores.

And I said:
Eres el sol. Me calientas e iluminas mi camino. Eres la luna, cada noche deseándome sueños tranquilos, guiando tu coro de estrellas que me canta canciones de cuna. Eres el mundo para mí y todo lo que existe más allá, cada regalo de Dios que adoro. Te prometo fidelidad y amor eternos.

Corazón de mi corazón, alma de mi alma, cásate conmigo. Quédate conmigo. Camina conmigo. Canta conmigo. Saluda cada amanecer conmigo y conmigo, despídete de cada día. Quédate conmigo, corazón mío. Haz conmigo un amor que nunca morirá.

Alie said, “Of course, you dope.”

Pretty damned sweet, right? A little sappy? So, wait. Why are you looking at me funny? Oh—you don’t understand Spanish. Neither did Alie—then. Hardly caught a single word but knew exactly what I meant. Now, each night we serenade each other before we say goodnight. Alie likes the old songs, the timeless songs, in which love never dies.