Goodnight to My Thoughts of You

by Chelsea Rotunno

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Surprise

  I woke up the next morning wondering if it had been a dream. No. It was real. He loved me—just like everyone said.

  I went through my day trying to make sure I wasn’t going to change my mind about him. Physically, he was not the husband I imagined for myself. But on the inside, he was exactly the guy I wanted: a caring, funny, family-oriented guy who loved God and loved me. I could see by his friendships that he treated people well, and he was well loved. He put others before himself. He made wise choices. He was great with kids. He was easygoing and forgiving. He was perfect—for me. He complemented who I was on the inside.

  After Easter, when we told our friends what had transpired, they said they already knew we would get together. They were just waiting for the day.

  When the news of our relationship spread around campus, a few people were uneasy about it. Tyler approached me one day after chapel. He got in my face and looked me straight in the eyes. “Stay away from Charlie!” he said with a half-smile. “Leave him alone!” I laughed as he abruptly walked away. What was that about? I wondered.

  Tyler must have thought that I would hurt Charlie. I realized that Tyler didn’t know that I had changed. The Miriam from freshman year was a different person, one who was immature, shallow, and a tease. Charlie was with a new Miriam, a person who knew how to love and respect others and herself.

  Another friend of Charlie’s named Niki, one of the other girls who had made him a birthday cake, interrogated my roommates to make sure I wasn’t going to hurt him. Jocelyn assured her that my feelings were sincere. I guess my reputation had spread throughout the campus in four years.

  Just wait. I’ll show you all. I’ll stay with Charlie. I won’t hurt him. I’ll marry him.

  The next weekend, Charlie met my family. My mom, who was always hesitant about who her daughters dated, didn’t warm up to him right away.

  “So Miriam tells me you are Italian,” my mom groaned.

  “Yes. You are, too, right? So we already have something in common,” Charlie said, smiling.

  “I know how Italian men can be,” she barked. “Controlling, demanding, selfish.”

  “Well, I’m sorry that has been your experience. I hope to prove you wrong,” Charlie said.

  “Humph.”

  She went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. When I walked in to ask her if she needed any help, she pulled me into the kitchen with her and started whispering.

  “He’s shorter than you,” she said. “You know that can make intimate times impossible. You won’t fit together.”

  “Mom, that is a lie, and I’m not listening to you.”

  “I’m trying to help you by letting you know ahead of time, before you get serious.”

  I walked away from her and sat down next to Charlie at the dinner table. I would not let the teeth of discouragement sink in.

  Charlie slept downstairs on my parent’s couch that night, and the next morning my mom and I cooked pancakes for him. She was in a better mood; the alter ego Bitter Witch was gone, and Sweet Hostess was back.

  After breakfast, Charlie and I went for a walk around the neighborhood. We were walking and talking, and he mentioned something about Bianca that I had never told him before, something like the name of the street her parents lived on.

  “How did you know that?” I asked. Suddenly, I remembered the first time Charlie visited my apartment, he had picked up a photo of Bianca and said she had beautiful eyes; I had been stricken with jealousy.

  He brushed it off; but I stopped short. “When did you talk to her?”

  “It must have been in an email.”

  “You two have been emailing? How did you get her email if I didn’t give it to you?”

  “I just got it at some point.”

  “That’s so not cool. You should have asked me first.”

  “It didn’t seem like a big deal.”

  “The big deal is that neither of you have ever mentioned it to me.”

  I walked ahead of him, and he jogged to catch up to me.

  “You’re mad.”

  “Yes. This is bad; this is really bad.”

  “Please believe me when I tell you it’s not bad.”

  “I need you to leave. I’m sorry, but this is it. I don’t put up with this crap from guys.”

  “Miriam …”

  I walked ahead and ignored him.

  “Fine.”

  I kept walking, wiping my tears.

  “You are serious? This is really it?” he called.

  He let me go a bit further.

  Then he yelled out the truth.

  “We are planning a surprise for you! A going away party! For you, Miriam!”

  As soon as he said it, everything made sense.

  “What? Really?” I whipped around and cried out with a huge smile, “Really? No one has ever thrown me a surprise party! Never in my life.” I ran back to him and took his hand. “I’m such a jerk!” I felt like dirt, but I was so happy I was wrong.

  “Now look, you made me ruin the surprise.”

  “I am so sorry!” I wiped my cheek with my wrist. “But I don’t mind; I hate surprises.”

  “I love surprises,” he said. “And now you know I was planning one for you.”

  “You really do love me, don’t you?”

  “You know I do.”

  The surprise party was at Bianca’s parents’ house in Shadow Hills, and Charlie had made tiramisu and chocolate-dipped strawberries. Bianca made a spaghetti dinner, and all my roommates and friends were there, as well as my parents and sisters. It was the most intentional celebration anyone had ever put together, just for me.

  Charlie sat with my family at my graduation. He brought yellow and pink roses from his grandmother’s garden, and he gave them to me after the ceremony. I still remember how wonderful they smelled. Back at our apartment, Jocelyn took a side profile picture of me smelling the roses and another picture of me on the floor with my head surrounded by a rainbow of all the books she had watched me read all semester for my C.S. Lewis class.

  I graduated magna cum laude, as an honors scholar and a centennial scholar, and president of the campus chapter of the Sigma Tao Delta English Honor Society. I earned my bachelor’s degree in English with an emphasis in education.