It's been eight weeks and you and Michael are going steady, he comes into the diner every day for his favorite order and "his favorite girl," as he would say. "Tonight is special," he says, "we're going out to the Chinese Garden, be ready by eight."
You slip your little black dress with the spaghetti straps over your flawlessly made up face and throw on some new heels, you never wear heels; since tonight is special you went to the local thrifty and bought a cute pair of shimmery black stilettos on your way home. You are ready by seven fifteen and you are ecstatic when you hear Michael knock at seven forty-five. "Tonight is special," plays over and over in your head as the two of you walk strung together through the hazily lit streets of New York City.
"Tonight is special," you say out loud as you cross Broadway Avenue and see the restaurant empty but not closed. It's just the two of you inside and the host is smiling uncontrollably when he seats you at the table in the center of the left wall. Deja's vu... Michael goes to the bathroom and before you know it he's back and on one knee in front of the table, looking at you like he always does, like you're the only person he sees. Like you're the light that gleams from his robust tabby eyes. He's holding a petite red velvet box, inside is the most lovely Azurite gemstone wrapped with silver strands spun into a graceful ring. "What do you say, Hope, will you spend the rest of your life with me, living as happily as we have been the last few months?"
