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Our extended family dinner in the old Miller barn was winding down. The older set – our children, their in-laws, our sisters, their spouses and so on – were talking, talking, as they sampled from a dozen wonderful desserts the women had made. I had called the grandsons and their cousins in from playing outside so they could shave off my "roof beard," marking the completion of seven months of roofing our dome house. Son Worshrag, home for a short visit from his new job in Georgia, showed them what to do. Studying my face in a hand mirror, I complimented the boys for a good job and not nicking me, then told them to take a seat and hear what I had to say to my bride of 50 years.
"We met at Hancock County 4-H Camp," I began. "There were two redheads on a blanket at Tomlinson Run swimming pool, and I really liked redheads. I picked one, and Johnny Mayhew and I threw her in the pool," I said. Then I added, as I always do when I tell this story, "I could just as easily have picked the other one."
"The other one had a ring on her finger," my wife interrupted. For 50 years she has never let me get away with anything.
"That's true," I admitted. "But I knew which one I wanted. She was a pretty thing, only 14. I was 17, a man of the world. That night I kissed her behind her cabin, and that is not a euphemism."
"My mother was watching."
"Which to my credit I did not know at the time," I said. "Anyway, the kiss was not what I expected. I said to myself, 'This babe has been kissed before.'"
A lively discussion ensued between Honey and her sister over whether or not that was her first kiss. Honey, who remembers everything, said she couldn't remember. Humpf.
"My wife doesn't like any kind of fuss being made over her," I stated when I was able to resume control. "That's why we celebrated our 50th with a simple family dinner. A little bit ago I told her I was going to make a presentation to her, and I begged her not to walk out on me, like she did at the Texas Roadhouse when I told them it was her birthday, and they brought the saddle and started to sing and she got up and left like she said she would.
"The first time she walked out on me was at WVU when I was working on the student newspaper and not paying enough attention to her. She decided not to call me and wait to see how long it would take for me to notice she wasn't around. It took, what, two weeks?"
"A week," she said.
She broke up with me and I thought we just needed time apart, which stretched into months. I wrecked a car it shook me up, thinking I could have been killed and she wouldn't even know. All keyed up, I went to her apartment and got a worse shock.
"Her roommate was acting funny and then in she walks with this guy named Mickey. That's why I've hated anybody named Mickey ever since, including Mickey Mantle and Mickey Mouse."
It took a year for her to ditch Mickey, thanks in no small part to her family.
"Our dad haaaated Mickey," Honey's sister chimed in.
"That's right. You see what I mean, boys? When you're dating that girl, look at her family. You're not just marrying her, you're marrying her family. Your grandmother and I were blessed to have loving, supportive parents."
Johnny Mayhew got us back together, and soon after we were married.
"I planned to make two presentations to my wife today, and she has promised not to walk out this time. The first thing I planned was to give her a gold necklace with 50th engraved on the pendant. I decided, what the heck, I'd go a hundred-fifty, two hundred dollars even. I went to a jeweler's and they showed me a tiny white gold necklace with a circle of microscopic diamonds on a pendant the size of a fingernail. The price was sixteen hundred dollars. My wife is a practical person. She didn't even want an engagement ring. I knew she would kill me if I spent sixteen hundred dollars on a gold necklace that she would have to worry about losing."
Honey nodded emphatically.
"What she really likes on special occasions is a thoughtfully worded card, so I ran up to the Dollar Store yesterday, and believe it or not, they had a 50th anniversary card, so I bought it. Actually I forgot to take money but our daughter Shark happened to be there and she paid for it. When I went to fill it out, I realized it was to give someone else on their 50th wedding anniversary, so I had to cross out all the "yours" and write in "ours," but my wife seemed to like it anyway.
"My second presentation is singing a song to her. It was on a Leon Russell CD that I played over and over for months while I was working on the roof, and Honey got to know it very well. She loves Leon Russell."
"I hate Leon Russell," she said.
"That's true, but it was written by Donnie Hathaway and the lyrics are very beautiful. The title is 'A Song for You.' I've been practicing it for weeks so I could get through it, so forgive my poor singing and pay attention to the words."
I had thought about giving a copy of the lyrics to Seed so he could read it if I got too emotional, but I was determined to man my way through it, and with some long pauses and in a quavering voice, I did, including the last verse.
"I love you in a place where there's no space and time. I love you for my life; you are a friend of mine. And when my life is over, remember when we were together, we were alone and I was singing this song for you, singing my song, singing a song for you."
My wife embraced and kissed me. We were both crying, and I knew I had got this part right.
To top it off, I saved sixteen hundred dollars.
Fred Miller's third book of stories, "A Dead Carp on Shadyside Ave." is $10 and available locally at Calcutta Giant Eagle, Pottery City Antique Mall, Museum of Ceramics, Frank's Pastries, Davis Bros. pharmacies, Connie's Kitchen restaurant, and the Old Ft. Steuben gift shop.