Madison Conforto Tiny Black Box

Tiny Black Box Madison Conforto

I’m nervous. I’m never nervous this doesn’t happen to me. For god’s sake, I’m Cynthia George. The best lawyer in the San-Francisco Bay area, an accomplished marathon runner, giver to the people, and a damn good lover. So why is this tiny black box making me so nervous? I sigh as I reach over and grab this velvet foreign object. Flipping it around in my hand I look up to myself in the mirror; still got it even at the ripe old age of 31. At the moment I’m standing in the bathroom connected to our bedroom. I take a breath and tell myself where I’m standing again. It’s ourbathroom. This has been our bathroom for the past 5 years. Her toothbrush sits next to mine on the counter in the mouth of a blue whale that balances on its tail. When we bought the whale, I knew it wouldn’t match with our modern black and white bathroom. Trust me when I say that I complained about it to her too, but she just laughed at me the way she always does. “But look how cute he is!! You’ll grow to love him just trust me,” she said happily, and I could never say no to that smile of hers. She was right too. This little whale has brought a smile to my face even on the most stressful of days. I’d even say that it’s a crucial part of the bathroom. I look away from the whale and back to my green eyes in the mirror. Oh god, they look terrified, she’s going to guess something is wrong instantly. I run my fingers through my long blond hair looking for any knots that might have appeared. Of course, there’s none, due to my hours of work getting ready. She would say that I’m taking way too long and use her classic line of, “Baby, the moment you look the best is when you wake up. Why put more work in when you can come back to bed with me?” With her job as a freelance artist, she doesn’t have to look at her best. She doesn’t have to make sure she’s absolutely perfect to the world like I have to, but I’m not preparing for court today. No, I wishI was getting ready for court today then I wouldn’t be nervous at all. However, today I’m preparing to ask the biggest question of my life; I plan on proposing to her. Her voice breaks my concentration as she calls out to me. “Cynthia!! Let’s roll baby!! I can promise you that you look enchanting as usual.” I roll my eyes and stick the box into my pocket. Only she would rush me on a night as important as this one. Taking one more look at myself in the mirror I check to make sure everything is in order. My golden hoop earrings sparkle in the lighting and there’s not a single crease in my black pantsuit. Everything is perfect. Everything will be perfect. I’m still nervous. Pushing that thought to the side I start to head out. I leave our bedroom and start walking down the hallway, which is scattered with memories of her and me, to the stairs to our front door. I know she will be waiting there for me at the bottom. I always tell her that she can stay in the bedroom with me, but she refuses and says that watching me walk down the steps is way more enjoyable. Once I get to the top of the

steps, I spot her in the same spot, coat on, and my coat in her hand. All I can think of at that moment is her lovely name, Sara. She is the most beautiful creature to ever walk on this earth. I know I’ve complained about her not wearing professional outfits, but she honestly doesn’t have to. Anyone who looks at her would fall in love in a heartbeat. She looks up from her phone and for a second. I’m like a deer in headlights. She stands there in a long blue skirt with clouds that she has stitched in and a bright white silk shirt. There’s a little black belt that’s wrapped around her that matches the black hat that sits on her freshly shaven head. “Babe, at the rate you were going I thought we were never going to leave. Not that I mind staying home with you,” Sara says with a wink while reaching the hand that holds my coat out to me. “Perfection like this takes time my love,” I joke back, giving her a kiss on the cheek as her payment for my coat. She rolls her warm honey brown eyes before giving me a kiss on the forehead. “Darling you always look perfect,” she whispers to me. Even though we’ve been together for over a decade she still manages to make me blush. How can anyone be this perfect? How can I be so lucky to have someone like her in my life? The box in my pocket seems to be almost making a point by jabbing into my leg. Maybe this is a mistake. I know Sara is indifferent to marriage; she claims that it’s a little heteronormative for her taste. Me on the other hand, I would really like one. I’ve always dreamed of one as a little girl. I would never admit it due to my hard reputation but also, I’m scared that this would insult her. I do think our lives are already united. I don’t want her to get the wrong impression of what I want. Just imagine, me being able to walk down the aisle, finally being able to show off years of my guilty pleasure of hours of Pinterest boards and wedding catalog collections. Then she would be standing there, waiting for me with that perfect smile on her face, excited about us to swear our love to each other to our friends and family. God, I sound so soft. I hope she doesn’t make fun of me. “Babe, are you ok?” Sara breaks me out of my thoughts, and I realize I haven’t responded back to her compliment. Oh, god she’s on to me. The stressful thought instantly fills my mind and puts my body into fight or flight. You got this Cynthia, just respond back, I tell myself. “I’m doing fantastic,” I say and snap little finger guns in her direction. “Haha...OK?” Sara says in an amusing way. I spin to the door while internally screaming to myself. I’m such an idiot. ❤❤❤❤❤ OH my god, my palms are sweating. I could hydrate all of California from how much water my body is deciding to produce right now. I lift up my hands from the death grip on the leather steering wheel and I can practically see a trail of slime. I’m a slug. I’m a pathetic slug who’s trying to propose to her beautiful, not slug girlfriend. Fortunately, that not slug of a girlfriend is currently being distracted by her favorite mixtape. It’s one that we made for a ski trip we took with close friends. I believe that was before we bought the house, and luckily for me the words of the songs leave my lips before I even notice. Sara dances happily in the passenger seat and I can’t help but fall in love with her more.

I laugh thinking about how Sara and I first met. It was my Junior year of college. All that was on my mind was classes, my soon to be bar exam, and making myself look as impressive as ever for my future law firms. I had no time for friends, and I especially had no time for lovers. I’d like to say that this was only a college personality trait of mine but sadly it was how I was in my life before Sara. Both of my parents had prestigious careers, one a heart surgeon and the other an actuary; they valued education and wealth status before anything else. This mindset was passed onto me, their only child. It wasn’t until my junior year of college where it all turned around. I was in a mandatory ceramic class and I just happened to be sitting next to the one and only Sara. She was in her pink hair faze and described herself as a bubblegum rocker. This was due to her normally wearing a thrift store pink leather coat and homemade spiked boots. I thought she looked ridiculous when I first met her but even then, I couldn’t deny how much I liked her smile. I wish I could have said that I was the one who started a conversation or at least said hi to her, but that was all her too. We would spend the ceramic classes laughing and I would listen with amazement to the wild stories about her life that she would tell me. I felt embarrassed that I lacked so much and tried desperately to make it up with my knowledge. I would memorize fun facts about different topics each day and she would listen/pretend to be interested. She’s just so sweet like that. At the end of every class, Sara would ask if I was free. I would respond by showing her my color-coded schedule and explain that I really didn’t have the time. I really didn’t think I did! She would laugh and always say, “I love a busy woman. As soon as you’re free schedule me down.” I did exactly that. The day that I saw that there was nothing in my calendar I called Sara up. Boy, was I nervous. I was so close to chickening out when she picked up and if it wasn’t for her saying, “Oh? Do you finally have time for little ol’ me?” I would have made an unrelated excuse as to why I was calling. Somehow even back then she knows exactly what I’m thinking. When Sara asked me what I wanted to do for our date I told her that all I wanted to do was to see a day in her life. I wanted to see the world that she always described in such great detail. She started off by bringing me to her apartment. I never had seen a home that has looked so much like the owner. It was a small one bedroom that seemed to be mimicking the feel of a greenhouse. She had plants everywhere, but the real showstopper was the vines on the walls. The vines were artistically grown to cover the wall in a way that they would frame the photos hung up. This was one of the moments where I learned how hard and dedicated Sara is to her work. The amount of patience it took her to get those vines in place was something I never would have done. Most of her lights came from string or lamps as her ceilings were draped with red fabric. Her house smelled of cinnamon and weed. I’ve never been somewhere and wanted to stay until I was in Sara’s home. She took me to flower shops, record stores, cafes, and hidden gardens. Then at night, she took me to her favorite bars and clubs. It was at Rumors night club where we had our first kiss. The funniest thing about it was that I felt like this was something that I’ve always done. I wasn’t some girl who only focused on the future. I was a girl in

love. Luckily for me, that day we spent together wasn’t just a look but instead an invitation to be a part of her life. Now she’s here next to me. Years later from our first kiss at Rumors and I still love watching her dance. She’s oddly very graceful for someone who is locked into the passenger seat. I flex my leg muscle to feel the ring box sitting there. I sigh which gains a look from Sara. “Is everything ok babe? You seem super stressed tonight?” she asks me. “Hmm? Oh! Nothing is wrong, I’m just hungry and I’ve been getting stopped at so many of these red lights.” Only a slight lie on my part. She hums and nods but continues her suspicious side-eye look. To my delight, I’m taken off the hot seat due to us arriving. I park the car in front of our favorite Italian restaurant, and as I shut my door, I can hear Sara still in the vehicle screaming about her craving for pasta. I do a quick walk around the back and open the door to see that Sara has not stopped talking for a single second. “ -pregnancy craving with this pasta. Hehe but obviously not! Unless you want to tell me about a recent genetic development that you’ve had. Also, I love that even after all these years you’re still such a gentleman getting my door. I feel like a true lady.” she rambles to me. Taking her hand, I help her out of the car and respond, “It’s something I look forward to doing for the rest of our lives.” She happily skips out of the car and spins to face my direction. “Till death does us part!” she exclaims. I stop and stare at her. Does she know? Does this mean that she would be happy with the idea of us being married? Should I ask the question now? The stars are bright above us and the lighting from the restaurant does make this parking lot feel oddly romantic. Plus, my dad would get a kick out of it if I proposed to her next to a bright red McLaren. My hand twitches in the direction of the box in my pants and I feel like I’m about to vomit. I feel my fingers slip in between the fabric and feel the fuzz of the top of the box. “Let’s go eat now! I’m starving!” the words come out of my mouth before I even realize, and I grab her hand to pull her inside. “Oh…oh! Pasta time!” Sara sings back squeezing my hand. I swear for a moment she looked almost disappointed. Thinking that is in my head, I try shrugging off my failed attempt to propose. Why do my eyes feel watery? I hate that I feel so nervous about this. I’m afraid that this will change something about our relationship, and I can’t have that happen. The noise and smell, once we’re in the restaurant, calms me down. You’re fine, I tell myself, even if you decided to not do it today you can always do it later. We walk up to the host and I give my last name. I wonder if she would want to take my last name. Would I take hers? The fact we haven’t talked about this at all in all of our years together fills me with a little doubt about this marriage idea of mine. We follow the host who leads us to a candlelit table in a cozy corner of the restaurant. The spot is honestly perfect for a proposal. It’s far enough to the side where I don’t feel like many eyes would be on us. Even though I don’t think I would mind

anyone watch me give my beautiful girlfriend a confession of a lifetime, it’s the possible rejection that scares me. The host places the menus in front of us and says that water and bread will be on the way shortly. I look around the dimly lit restaurant and take in the atmosphere. The music is a soft instrumental composure of jazz and the calm warm lighting makes Sara’s cheekbones look like they’ve been carved from the Greek Gods themselves. I know Sara always enjoys this restaurant from the fact that we’re able to draw on the tables due to the cover being made from paper. They’ve actually framed one of Sara’s work from the last time we were here. Maybe this time will be different. Sadly, this isn’t my first attempt at trying to get these words out. I want this to be the time that I actually pull the trigger but for some reason, my body always says no. A comfortable conversation starts between the two of us. We talk about how projects are going on Sara’s end and we gossip about people we don’t like at my firm. I feel like it’s only us in an Italian themed world. Our waiter comes over with our bread in hand, which I start to munch on nervously right away. “Hi ladies. My name is Tim and I will be serving you tonight. What can I get you started with?” A giggle forms from Sara as she looks at me with a mouthful of bread that all of sudden feels very dry in my mouth causing me to give two little coughs. “I think we’ll start with whatever wine you recommend and some focaccia barese. Clearly, someone over there is starving,” she says with a snort. I feel heat rise to my cheeks, but the teasing is still welcomed. Our waiter nods and walks off. I finally force the dry bread to go down my throat and look at Sara. She is trying to stifle laughter but is failing miserably. I stick my tongue out at her and join in. The teasing calms my nerves down, but only a little. The night was calm and relaxed from there. I won’t lie the appetizer was so good that I almost forgot about the box in my pocket and the question on my mind. Sara bounces up and down in her seat as she can see our meals start to head in our direction. I can’t help but feel my mouth also start to water. The waiter places down our designated meals in front of us and we both give him a thank you as he walks away. Before I can even place my napkin on my lap, I see Sara taking an overly big bite of her dish. She pauses mid-chew and she sees me staring at her and gives me a long and dramatic moan just to show me how good the food is. I laugh as I see a little bit of the sauce spill on to her cheek. “You’re such a goof,” I say to her. “Ha-ha, well I’m your goof,” she responds with a mouthful of pasta. “Yours looks delicious. You better start eating before I get my hands on it”. To prove her point she makes a jabbing motion at my plate with her fork. I snort and pull my dish close to me, even though I’d happily let her have the whole thing. At this moment is when I realize. I’m not nervous. My hands aren’t shaking, and my lips aren’t quivering. This is what I want to do. A relaxed breath leaves my body. Why was I scared? I swear the smell of Sara old apartment fills my nose over the smell of Italian food. I’m looking at my home right now. Yeah, a home that is covered in pasta sauce but a still sexy looking home. I know

that we’re meant to be together and I know why I want to make her my wife. I love the person that she has made me in to. I love our home we have made together. I love her. “Sara,” her name leaves my lips before I even realize. My body has gone on complete autopilot. It’s almost like it was designed to do this from the start of our relationship. Her eyes widen and she takes a big gulp as I get down to one knee. I take the black box out of my pocket and look up at her. Her hands shoot up to cover her mouth and she gives what I hope is an excited gasp. “We’ve been together now for more than 10 years now and this is something that I should have done so much sooner.” I am not nervous; I open the box. “Sara, will you marry me?” Before I know it, a body is being thrown at me. “Yes! Of course, yes!” Tears of relief flood my eyes as I feel her arms wrap around me. The restaurant erupts in claps and awes. The relief I feel in my heart is one that was needed. The stress I had about this was probably enough to take a few years off my life. A few congratulations could be heard before the other parties went back to their meals. “Why did you take so long to ask???” she questions pulling me back so that she can look at my face. “I found the ring months ago. You’re horrible at hiding things by the way, and I have been waiting for sooolong for you to ask. I almost broke and asked you myself!” My eyes widen in surprise. “You’ve known this whole time?” I ask exhausted. “Well duh. You’re not with someone for these many years and not pick up on their nervous habits.” She boops my nose before taking the ring from my hands and holding it to the light. She gives off oohs and ahhs as she moves it in different angles. I feel my body begin to shake and laughter bubbles out from within. Sara stops and looks at me. Smiling with that perfect smile she says, “What’s so funny babe?” I shake my head and wipe my eyes “You have no idea how nervous I was about this.” Her eyes soften and she kisses me on the forehead. I couldn’t ask for a better moment than this. I can’t believe that it has taken me so long to ask a question that we’ve both been waiting for. “You goof,” Sara says to me while placing the ring on her finger.