Another Proposal Scene by Jack Caldwell #2

Greetings, everyone. Jack Caldwell here.

This month, our theme is “Will You?” That’s right, it’s a month full of proposals, the good, the bad, and the ugly! Most will probably melt your pudding, but you might just see a stinker in the bouquet. We all need to laugh, right?

Okay, I didn’t write the above. But I have written several proposals in my many novels. I couldn’t pick just one, so I’m sharing my favorites with you over the next three weeks. I’m generous that way. We have to do something or we’ll go insane.

Strangely enough, my best proposals tend to be funny. That’s the way I roll. Here’s the second one, this from BOURBON STREET NIGHTS, Volume One of CRESCENT CITY.

From BOURBON STREET NIGHTS —

(There are several proposals in my epic modern novel, CRESCENT CITY. As it turns out, this is the one I like best, even though it involves a character that may not be your favorite. Oh, well. You’ll just have to deal with it. It’s a long one, but it’s worth it.)

Carrie Bingley sat on the couch in the front room of John Buford’s condo, her feet tucked underneath her, snuggling with her boyfriend. He had one arm wrapped around her and the TV remote his hand. The LSU Tiger baseball team was on the tube. A big bowl of popcorn was on the table, and there were beers within reach. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend a warm Saturday afternoon.

“Aw, come on, ump, are you blind? That wasn’t a strike!” complained Carrie. A big baseball fan, she wore an LSU t-shirt commemorating the four NCAA championships the Tigers had won in the 1990s.

Buford shook his head in agreement just as the doorbell rang. “Hang on, babe, I’ll get it,” he said as he got to his feet. Carrie said nothing, her concentration on the game before her.

“Where is she? Where’s my daughter?” came a woman’s voice from the foyer.

Carrie’s eyes snapped wide open. She leapt to her feet, her heart in her stomach, as Catherine Bingley swept into the room, followed by Buford.

“Mom! What are you doing here?”

“I might ask the same of you, Caroline Ann Bingley! This certainly isn’t Anna Elliot’s dorm room. I don’t know what kind of finals you’re studying for, but it doesn’t look like Public Policy!” She had her hands on her hips.

Carrie blanched. She had decided to keep her relationship with John Buford secret from her mother for the present. Knowing the woman’s obsession with her marrying well, particularly with William Darcy, Carrie wanted to put off the inevitable confrontation. In the weeks that passed, Carrie had delayed and procrastinated. Now the day of reckoning was upon them.

Still, Carrie was not one to back down. “Mom, let me introduce you to my boyfriend, John.”

“John Taylor Buford, Jr. at your service, ma’am.” He extended his hand with a smile.

Catherine Bingley ignored the gesture. “We’ll see about that. I wish to speak to my daughter for a few minutes—alone.”

Buford took the insult without a blink. “Of course. Make yourself at home. I’ll be in the kitchen.” He gave Carrie a quick wink and left the room.

“Mother, you have no―”

Mrs. Bingley cut her off. “Don’t you take that tone of voice with me, young lady! Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m watching a baseball game with my boyfriend, Mom.”

“Your boyfriend!” The older woman pointed at the kitchen. “That’s your boyfriend? And just when were you going to tell me?” She didn’t allow Carrie to answer. “Never, I suppose. If it weren’t for Gloria Van de Snoot telling me she’s seen you in this neighborhood—Ah! You didn’t know she lives just down the block, did you? She tells me you’ve been spending a great deal of time here!”

“You had me followed?”

“Don’t be so dramatic! I just had lunch with Gloria. That’s when she told me.”

“So, you came looking for me. Why didn’t you just call?”

“Why, so you could lie? No, I wanted to see for myself.”

Carrie sighed. “Very well, you’ve met John. I suppose you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you before. It’s because I knew you’d react just like this.”

Catherine’s voice went up a notch. “And just how am I reacting?”

“Over-reacting, Mother. You’re overreacting. I knew you’d be disappointed.”

“And why shouldn’t I be?” she cried. “You’re throwing away your chance of landing William Darcy!”

Carrie had had enough. “Stop it! I’m not landing anybody, especially William Darcy! You are so intent on me making this great catch, you’ve forgotten about how I feel—about what I want.”

Catherine sneered. “How would you know what you want? You’re too young to know what you want!”

“I’m almost twenty-two.”

“Twenty-two—and you think you know everything! Let me tell you, missy, if I knew what I know now when I was twenty-two—”

 “Mother, I don’t want to talk about Daddy!”

“Very well, then. Get your things. We’re leaving right now.”

She was now sure her mother had lost her mind. “Leaving? I’m not leaving!”

“Yes, you are! You are not going to throw your life away, not while you’re living under my roof!”

Before Carrie could respond, Buford strolled out of the kitchen with a polite smile on his face. “Pardon me, ladies, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I think everybody ought to settle down so we can talk about this like adults.”

Catherine Bingley turned on him. “You’re intruding on a private conversation! Leave us immediately!”

Buford’s smile disappeared from his face. “Pardon me, again, Mrs. Bingley, but you are sadly mistaken about something. This is my house, and no one dismisses me from one of my rooms. I would suggest you sit down—right there.” He pointed at a chair. “And then we’ll continue our conversation.”

“How dare you!”

“Sit–down–ma’am.”

Buford’s posture could not be called threatening—he was barely in the room. His voice was low and controlled. But his eyes blazed with a righteous blue fire. Mrs. Bingley must have felt the force of his personality because with a small gasp, she half-fell into the chair indicated. Carrie couldn’t deny his power any more than her mother, and a moment later, found herself seated, even though her boyfriend’s command was directed at Mrs. Bingley.

Buford’s expression changed immediately. “Thank you, Mrs. Bingley,” he said calmly. “I’m sure we’ve got a lot to talk about, but I think we ought to find out a couple things first.”

He turned to Carrie and gently asked, “Carrie, do you want to leave?”

Carrie’s eyes started to fill. “I think it’s best that Mother and I—”

“Carrie. Do you want to leave?”

The pair stared into each other’s eyes. Buford’s blue eyes blazed again, but not in anger this time. Carrie felt the same exposed sensation she had experienced in February in a Metairie motel room. She knew John could see into her soul.

“No.”

Buford smiled. “Good. I don’t want you to leave, either.”

Catherine Bingley was heard from again. “Well, I’m not going to sit around here!”

Without taking his eyes off Carrie or losing his smile, Buford said, “Mrs. Bingley, we’re not finished yet.” The statement sounded like a command. He blinked as he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Carrie, this might be a little soon, but I think it’s time we’ve made it clear how things stand between us and where we’re going.”

With that, he got on one knee before her.

“Caroline Ann Bingley, you are the most important person in my life. I love knowing you, I love being with you, and I cannot image spending my life with anyone else in this world. I love you with all my heart, with all my strength, and with all my soul. Please make my life complete by saying you feel the same, that you will live with me, be with me, and grow old with me. Carrie, my dearest love, will you marry me?”

“Oh, my God!” gasped Mrs. Bingley.

For her part, Carrie could say nothing. In fact, she could hardly believe what she had just heard. Only Buford’s intense, loving, and nervous gaze convinced her she wasn’t dreaming. Still, she could only manage to nod her head as her hands flew to her lips, at first gently, and then with far more enthusiasm as a smile grew on her face. Finally, like a bubble bursting forth, she cried though her fingers, “Yes! Oh my God, yes!”

Buford reached into his jeans pocket. “Here, this is for you. I bought it a little while ago, not planning to give it so soon. But I just got it from my bedroom, seeing how it might come in handy.” He handed her the small box.

“Oh, give me a break,” came Catherine’s voice from behind him.

“Quiet, Mother,” said Carrie absently as she opened the box. Glittering inside was a small diamond set in a gold band. She giggled slightly as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“It’s not that big, I know,” Buford was saying. “Just call it a down payment on what you deserve.”

“Hush up, you lovely man,” she said happily. She allowed Buford to take the ring out of the box and slip it on her ring finger. It fit perfectly. “I love it, Johnny. Oh, I love you so much,” she said as she leaned in to share a kiss. “How did you know my size?”

He whispered in her ear, “I tried on one of your rings a few weeks back. It was the same size as my pinkie.”

“When did you do that?” she whispered back.

“While you were sleeping.”

Carrie definitely didn’t want her mother to know about that! “Thank you, sweetie,” she said in a normal voice.

They shared a look of deep understanding. “I told you that you were doomed.”

“Yes, you did.” She lightly stroked his face.

Buford grinned and got to his feet after kissing the ring and the finger it now graced. He turned to his future mother-in-law.

“Mrs. Bingley, I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot. Now that everyone understands how things are, I hope we can make it up over dinner tonight. Why don’t you take a seat on the couch next to Carrie? I’m sure you’ve got a lot of planning to do for the wedding.” He turned his head towards his intended. “When, babe? Next year—the summer after you graduate?”

“That sounds fine, Johnny.” Her head was still in a whirl.

“It’s your call, sweetheart.” He turned back to Mrs. Bingley. “Whatever Carrie wants,” he warned her.

Oh, my God! He’s standing up to Mom! Can I love him any more?

He held out his hand. “Can I get you something? We’ve got beer and soft drinks. How about some coffee?”

The intimidated woman allowed herself to be helped to the sofa. “C-coffee would be fine.”

“I’ll put a pot on right now. How about you, Carrie?”

“I think I need another beer.”

“Comin’ right up,” he said as Mrs. Bingley sat down next to her daughter. “We’ll grab some dinner in a little while.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

Carrie gazed at her ring. Johnny, you are so going to get laid tonight!

 Her mother broke in breathlessly. “He’s…he’s a bit forceful, isn’t he?”

Carrie didn’t take her eyes off her hand. “Haven’t noticed, Mom.”

Catherine Bingley seemed to catch her second wind. “Well, I hope you’re happy! I wash my hands of you. You made your bed.  You can just sleep in it.”

Carrie blushed as she realized she and her mother had the same thought for different reasons.

“Oh, hush, Mom.” Knowing what would interest her mother, she added, “Johnny’s part of the most prestigious law firm in Baton Rouge. He’ll make partner before you know it. Just look at this place! You think it came cheap? I think he can afford me. Now, don’t you think my ring’s pretty?”

See you next Tuesday.

Until next time, this has been the Cajun Cheesehead Chronicles.

It takes a real man to write historical romance, so let me tell you a story…