Saturday, September 25-Lunch cont’d

As soon as he said that I  knew it couldn’t be the ring. I was sure he wouldn’t hold onto the ring for a long time once it was ready before proposing. Besides, the box was too big for a ring. Unless he’s being silly with some sort of series of boxes that ends with the ring…I thought to myself.

“Open it,” he urged as I held the bag, perplexed.

I pulled the bag away from the box inside and saw the picture of a Macbook Pro on the side of the box. As soon as my eyes took in the image, they shot to Daniel.

“You got me a Macbook?!”

“Pro.”

“You got me a Macbook?!”

“Pro.”

And that was all he would say. He just sat there looking smug, but also as though he were waiting. He wasn’t, as I would expect him to do, telling me all the specs and features and reasons why he chose this model over another. He just sat back, watching me.

I tried briefly to fill the silence with my excitement over the laptop I’d desperately wanted for so long. After a moment, though, I got quiet and waited for him. A few beats later, Daniel began to talk and move at the same time.

“I’m glad you have the Macbook…” as he slid over out from behind the table.

“You’re going to need it…” as he stood up and reached into his suit jacket.

“…to plan your wedding.” as he went down on one knee.

Despite 99% tunnel vision focused on Daniel kneeling in front of my chair, it was hard not to notice, at least subconsciously, that every person in the restaurant–customers at other tables, servers, and hostesses–was now watching us, pointing and whispering. My brain even managed to register the camera flashes going off. My entire conscious brain, though, was focused on Daniel.

“I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Will you marry me?”

On the last word (which apparently was the ultimate debate of Daniel’s sleepless night before the proposal), the ring box appeared and Daniel opened it in one motion, revealing the ring I’d been waiting to see for what had seemed like an eternity.

Somehow, I still had the presence of mind to answer, “Of course!” and kiss my future husband.

Now that I had answered The Question, I felt free to just stare at the gorgeous ring. I gushed over how much it sparkled, how beautiful the carving was, and how it exceeded all my imaginings.

Daniel interrupted, leaned close and whispered, “Sweetie, you can put it on.”

Trust me, it would have ten me a long time to realize this if left to my own devices. I laughed at myself for this as I carefully pulled the ring from its box. I honestly can’t remember if I put it on or if he put it on my finger. It was probably a joint effort. In any case, it was finally on my finger–which was all that mattered.

With this accomplished, Daniel introduced me to his coworker, Andy, who had so graciously agreed to secretly meet him there to deliver the Macbook Pro and to take pictures of the proposal (thus the camera flashes I had subconsciously noticed). I tried to hold my hand still for a picture of the ring on my hand, but only achieved a few very shaky, blurry pictures. We thanked him profusely and accepted our first congratulations.

Our server was next to congratulate us as he brought us our to-go boxes. A few other curious servers came by. They each inspected and approved the ring. I think I remember one telling Daniel he could marry her if things didn’t work out.

In the car, while I continued to stare at the ring on my hand, Daniel remembered one part of the speech he’d forgotten during the proposal:

“The 100th reason is that I know you’ll be a great wife and mother.”

Saturday, September 25-Lunch

On the drive to lunch, Daniel suggested Cheesecake Factory. My mind simultaneously evaluated the facts that 1) we were already planning to go out to eat for a big meal with my parents that evening and 2) this particular Cheesecake Factory was the specific one where we met on our first “date.” Just as quickly as these thoughts occurred to me, I pushed them out of my mind. I didn’t want to figure it out. Again I followed Daniel’s advice: Just go with it.

As we were walking in, Daniel asked about the first time we’d met here over a year before. He wanted to know who I was talking to on the phone when he walked up. I told him that I remembered being on the phone with Diana and that the topic was very important, but I couldn’t recall the topic itself. The hostess led us to a table right away. Before we could sit down, though, Daniel noticed that the same table we’d had on our first date was open. He asked if we could sit at that table instead. THe hostess happily moved us to the requested table.

For all my wondering if Daniel might propose at this lunch, he seemed very normal. The fact that he showed no signs of being nervous or out of character made me laugh at myself mentally. Later, I thought, I’ll have to tell Daniel how I’d wondered all though lunch if he was going to propose. I’d have to tell him how oblivious he’d been to an almost-engaged woman’s mind–taking her to the same restaurant as our first date near the timing he’d said the ring would be ready. Such a man, I concluded.

Our food came; our check came; no ring came. The server took our food to pack it up in to-go boxes. After a minute I saw Daniel look up at someone obviously standing right behind me. He smiled  and thanked the person as they set down a Cheesecake Factory to-go bag on our table. I didn’t even look at who it was because I assumed it was our server with our leftover food. As the mystery person left, though, I noticed that the package inside the bag was too tall and too thin to be our food. As this realization occurred to me, Daniel began talking to me and holding the bag.

“There’s something I want you to have. I’ve had it for a while…”

Saturday, September 25

A friend from college, Micah, had just begun dating a friend from temple, Sarah. Interestingly, they also met because of Anna. 😉 This day was the first time my friend was visiting Beth Hallel since the news that they were dating. During the service, I leaned over to Daniel and whispered, “Do you want to ask Micah and Sarah if they want to have lunch with us afterward?”

“No.”

He was so resolute in his monosyllabic answer and he offered no explanation at all for his certainty. I was so taken aback by this that I didn’t dare question him further.

After the service, we chatted with Micah and Sarah. Daniel explained that we would have to go to the area near his work because he had to meet a coworker and get some computer thing from him. I protested a little that we were going so far away from lunch. I was already starving. He reassured me with “It’s only 30 minutes.” Suddenly I remembered his admonition to “Just go with whatever I say for the next few months.” I stopped protesting and decided to just go along with the plan.

So we said our goodbyes to Micah a Sarah and headed out to the car. We saw Elad and Danny and a few others on our way and stopped to chat. While Daniel talked with some of the other guys, Elad asked me how I was feeling. I had just gotten over a cold which he knew about so I told him I was feeling much better. He smiled a little too much and talked a bit too little. I asked him if he was okay since he was acting so strange. He laughed and nodded and hugged me. Then he looked me in the eye and with none of his usual teasing flirtaciousness and told me, “I just…I love you and I’m happy.” Now I started thinking he was moving away or something similar. When I expressed this to Daniel in the car, he didn’t say much about it. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t more curious as to why Elad was acting so strange.

One reason a day…and then one reason each weekday. Then I got a reason on the weekends again…and then just weekdays again. All the while, I forced myself not to count or look at the calendar to figure out what the date or even approximate date of when the 100 reasons would end. I wanted to be surprised. So, I just let myself revel in hearing one thing (almost) every day that Daniel loved/admired/appreciated/respected about me.

It was a Thursday in late September while Daniel was telling me goodnight at my car that he very gently explained that we were getting close to the end of the 100 reasons. He added that we would have to spread the last few reasons out. I sighed and accepted that I would still have to wait for the proposal and that there would be long stretches between the next set of reasons. Given that my birthday and our anniversary were less than a week away, I had no reason to doubt this. (I had told Daniel long before that I did not want a proposal on Christmas, New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, my birthday, or an anniversary.)

Meanwhile, my parents e-mailed Daniel and me to plan dinner together on that Saturday since it would be the closest weekend to my birthday. Behind the scenes, Daniel began writing an e-mail back to my parents asking them to reschedule. Halfway through writing it, though, he stopped and hit discard. He decided to change his own plan.

Now that Daniel has told the story of how my ring was made, it only seems appropriate to tell the story of how it ended up on my finger. As I sat down to write that story, though, I realized that it’s very long (at least when I tell it). So I’ve decided to tell this story in installments. After all, that’s how the “story” was revealed to me. 😉

Part 1:

In May, Daniel and I were watching the series finale of LOST. I was playfully bothering him and he was pretending to be annoyed.

“You love me, though.” I reminded him

Sigh. “Yes, I do,” he begrudgingly admitted. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

“You’d better know why you love me! I think you owe me 100 reasons just for saying that. You should give me 10 reasons a day for 10 days.”

“Ok.”
I wasn’t expecting that.

“But only one reason a day for 100 days.”

My brain did some quick math. Three and a half months seemed long enough to end in about August or September–which is when Daniel had hinted vaguely that the ring would be ready. I smiled as acceptance of this deal and we left the rest unspoken.

Inspired by Pixar’s UP, we decided to create our own adventure book. We took some time to pick out “Stuff we’re going to do” and this is what we came up with. =)

httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kw3dlyup1dE

A HUGE thanks to Daniel’s best man, Micah, for the filming and editing of this video!

“While [they] do custom designing they are unable to do the exact ring that you have so beautifully designed.  I spent most of the morning discussing the changes we had talked about, and they still feel even with the changes, they are unable to design the ring that you are dreaming of. ”

That striking blow landed in my inbox on August 3rd, causing our enthusiastic, however cautious, optimism to nearly disappear. Surely, what we desired and carefully considered was possible to construct, right?

Just a few months earlier, the topic of “the ring” arose, and my future fiancée completely baffled me with one word: “vintage”. Hoping for a basic level of understanding, I tasked her with homework; A few days later she was to present several images exuding this “vintage” design she so desired, and that’s really how the ring story begins.

We sat at her Mac while my eyes perused the selection, and her eyes worriedly studied mine. She quickly becomes uneasy when I’m silent. After a tortuous moment or two, we started rating each ring on iPhoto, discussing the intricacy of the designs we shared positive feelings for, and continued until only a handful or so remained.

The original design we mutually appreciated most appears to the right, and is best described as a 1920s/30s art replica engagement ring, featuring a huge 1.76 carat center diamond, with a half carat filling out the rest to boot. The less-than-stellar certification of the diamond Rose threw off the boat at the end of Titanic triggered concern, and the fact that the ring could only be seen online prior to purchase made it a non-starter.

We visited an antique store to get a feel for the vintage rings in person. Well, the idea was great…

Whereas the first jeweler we approached demonstrated tact and genuine care, the antique store owner threw the kitchen sink at us, loudly declaring the cost of each ring and how much they’d be willing to go down upon purchase. Jenni and I weren’t terribly private about finances at this point, but even then, the last thing I wanted my future fiancee to concern herself with was price.

Returning to my house somewhat distraught, we again discussed the original ring we both liked. Jenni mentioned how she’d want to see the same ring, except with a twist (literally). What if we turned the center several degrees like a baseball diamond? Without skipping a beat, I booted up Photoshop and the following resulted:

Vintage, yet somehow beautifully modern.We knew that was it. That’s the ring I’d slide on her finger.

The first jeweler was beyond nice, offering help above and beyond whatever commission she stood to make from the sale. After falling in love with an amazing diamond, we initiated talk of design, a piece of the puzzle considered by both of us to possess perhaps more importance than the diamond itself. I presented the Photoshopped images and the jeweler gushed it was a gorgeous design, her boss and colleagues reportedly agreeing upon viewing the printed pre-visualizations.

Another Photoshopped Image for the Jeweler

We returned to the store several days later to see the designs the company conjured up based on our explicit instructions and visual aids. Jenni and I still remember eating dinner following the meeting with our jaws on the floor, wondering how much worse they could have botched the designs. No, we did not want “elements” of our design. We wanted our design. They could have sent us back an exact digital drawing of the ring I Photoshopped and they would have made a happy customer, but even saying they weren’t close still gives them too much credit.

The email excerpt at the top of this post was in response to the message I sent them calmly and clearly explaining our desires. I shared the disappointing news with Jenni, but determined, I promised to obtain a more promising second opinion sooner rather than later. A dear family friend highly recommended their jeweler, referencing some impressive customer service and even more impressive results. Could this be our guy?

The son of an experienced jeweler, Brian Iroff conveyed a comforting confidence concerning our collection of carefully compiled caricatures, convincing us his carat, color, cut, and clarity compare to none. (I didn’t originally intend the alliteration, but after the first three Cs, I couldn’t stop).

Brian said he could absolutely create our design without a problem. The previous jeweler stated they couldn’t figure a way to properly support the center, an idea we scoffed at but still asked our new jeweler. Again, he replied no problem, and after selecting a diamond seemingly infinitely more fiery than our original, I handed over the down payment and we were in business.

A few days later, the following arrived in my inbox and my heart jumped:

I promptly forwarded the images to Jenni with the text, “I’M SO EXCITED :)” which may have been an understatement. Iroff somehow drew something that exceeded our expectations, and that was only on the computer, before the custom hand carving completed the design. He received our full approval and then the next month, I placed this on Jenni’s finger when asking her to spend the rest of her life with me:

It really is even more beautiful in person. Jenni has since been given two citations for temporarily blinding other drivers and directly causing traffic accidents. (Ok, one of the previous sentences is false). I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend anyone to Iroff and Son Jewelers. Throughout the ring buying process, Jenni and I developed invaluable communication skills, nurtured an ability to happily compromise, and proved that we’d work hard for our dreams, an experience I’d never trade. While this post serves the primary purpose of sharing the ring story with friends and family, I’m looking forward to reading it again in several years, knowing the priceless joy revisiting this experience will bring 🙂

Until Next Time,
Daniel