Victoria’s Diary
September 29, 2016
I’ll be honest with you. Before I met your father I had several other relationships with men. But I want you to know that none of them meant anything to me. Well, at the time, I thought they did. Each time, I thought I was dating The One. But now I realize that they were all just practice. I was waiting for the real thing.
You’ll get it someday. One day, you’ll have a kind of love that you want to sing about from treetops. The kind of love where you want to use obnoxious hashtags like #Blessed or #BestBoyfriendEver. Or maybe by the time you read this, hashtags won’t be a thing anymore. Maybe instead of hashtags, you’ll use zebratags. Or I don’t know what.
Last night, Adam took me to see Hamilton. That’s a show that’s really big right now, based on the life of Alexander Hamilton, the first secretary of the treasury. I know, it’s hard to believe that could be a hit Broadway show, but it really is. I can’t even imagine what he must have paid for the tickets. Granted, he is a number one New York Times bestselling author (as you know), but sometimes I worry he spends too much money on me. All the guys I’ve dated in the past have been in student loan debt like I am or working some blue-collar job, so this is the first time I’ve been with a guy who spoiled me. And… well, I have to be honest here… I don’t hate it.
I mean, dinner at expensive French restaurants? Flowers every time we see each other? Tickets to the hottest Broadway shows? Who wouldn’t like that???
But I don’t need any of that stuff! I would like Adam just as much if he took me out to McDonald’s every night. I could be happy with a Big Mac and a large french fries if I had him with me.
Adam always picks me up at my apartment, even though his is much closer to Broadway. Your father is a gentleman—you can’t argue with that. He holds doors open for me. I’ve never had a man hold doors open for me
before. I just assumed that was something people only did back in the olden days, back when men wore cummerbunds and women wore hoop skirts.
When Adam showed up tonight, he was holding a bouquet of roses. “Pour vous.”
It’s a biological fact that women love flowers. There’s so much to love about them. They smell nice. They look beautiful. And oh, the colors! I would be just as happy with a handful of daisies, but Adam always gets me roses. It’s so sweet.
“You don’t have to bring me roses every time we go out.” “But you love it,” he pointed out. “And I can. So…”
“I know, but…”
It was silly to argue about it. Why would I try to dissuade him from buying me flowers? I have this fantasy that at the time you are reading this, your father is still bringing me roses… Maybe not every day, but maybe once a week. Every Friday evening. For the last forty years.
“Also,” he said, “I’ve got something else for you.”
And then he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a rectangular box. I gasped when I saw a white gold chain with a diamond-studded snowflake pendant. It was so beautiful, I wanted to cry. I stared at the necklace, giddy with pleasure. “This must have cost a fortune,” I murmured.
“You’re worth it,” he murmured back.
And then I pulled him inside because we honestly can’t keep our hands off each other. Sorry to tell you something so unsettling about your parents, but it’s true. But last night, it just ended up being kind of frustrating, because, you know, we had our tickets.
“I love you so much, Vicky,” he breathed in my ear. “I love you too,” I whispered back.
And I do. I so do! Yes, I know we’ve only been together for a few months, but that’s long enough to know I’m absolutely head over heels for this guy. I love him! I love him so much that I feel like I need to make up a new word to express the extent of my feelings. I lurve him. I louve him. I looooooove him.
“Hamilton,” I managed as his hands slid up my back.
He kissed my neck. “I’m willing to blow it off if you are.” “Didn’t the tickets cost you like a thousand bucks?”
“It’s just money.”
And that’s your father. He loves me more than he cares about some money or some theater tickets.
Of course, good sense finally took over and we decided that we could do this just as well after the show. Adam looked a little disappointed, but he couldn’t really argue. And I got to wear my snowflake necklace, which complemented my dress perfectly.
The show was, of course, amazing. I mean, it’s freaking Hamilton. But Adam had his hand on my knee or elsewhere through the entire production, and there were moments when I was worried we might get kicked out of Hamilton. But then again, that would’ve been a story to tell, wouldn’t it? Not that I would tell you that story. There are some things I’m sure you don’t need to know about your parents!
After the show was over, we got into an argument over whose apartment we were going to go to. Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it an argument. It was a spirited discussion. Adam is often reluctant to spend the night at my place. Which is understandable, since his place is about a million times nicer than mine, as you would expect. He’s got lots of money so he’s got a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment with a spectacular view of the Manhattan skyline. Whereas I’ve got a studio apartment with a great view of a brick wall six feet away.
I also have a slight roach problem, in spite of my diligent use of Combat. I don’t understand why I can’t get rid of those little buggers. That’s evolution at work.
“I have a shift at work tomorrow,” I explained. “I don’t have time to get home and shower and get ready if we go back to your place.”
“Hmm.” He tapped his finger against his chin, which was sporting a rather sexy five o’clock shadow. “Well, maybe you should start leaving more of your stuff at my place so you can go to work from there.”
“That’s an idea…”
“Or… you could just move in with me.”
All the air suddenly left my lungs. I stared into Adam’s green eyes, my heart slamming in my chest. There was a smile playing on his lips, but it wasn’t a jokey smile.
“Are… are you serious?” I managed.
“Well, why not?” He reached out to toy with a lock of my blond hair. He loves my hair. He says it reminds him of golden straw, which makes me feel like I’m a princess in a fairytale. “I’m crazy about you. Every night we don’t spend together is just… frustrating.”
Of course, I agreed instantly. As you know, I was certain from the moment I laid eyes on this man that we were going to end up together. So moving in together was just a step on the path toward spending our lives together. I can see my whole future with him. Marriage. Kids. Retirement home with matching rocking chairs, holding hands.
No, I’m not advocating that everybody should move in with her boyfriend of only three months. In many cases, it’s probably not a wise idea. But in this particular case, I’m sure you would agree with me that it worked out for the best.
It was such an absolutely magical evening. Hamilton. Deciding to move in together. It was a night I will remember always.
There was only one tiny little incident that kind of put a damper on it.
While we were walking down the street, hurrying to get a taxi so we could get home (my new home!), a man nearly knocked into me, jostling my shoulder roughly.
I have lived in the city for a long time, so I’m used to getting jostled or pushed or shoved and once peed on (my shoe—it was a dog). And Adam has lived here for a long time too. So I was surprised at how furious he seemed at what was clearly an accident.
“Hey!” Adam snapped at the overweight man in his mid-fifties who had knocked into me. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”
The man gestured down at the cane he was holding in his left hand. “Hey, buddy, you and your girlfriend were taking up the whole street. I needed space.”
Adam took a step forward. There was a dark look in his eyes that was unfamiliar to me… and a bit scary, if I’m being honest. “So you decided you wanted to feel her up?”
I blinked a few times. It’s not like I’ve never been felt up before by a stranger in the city—the subway during rush hour can be treacherous—but this man did not feel me up. He just bumped into me. Why was Adam so angry over this? “Adam…” I started to say.
“Listen, buddy,” the man said. “I didn’t…”
“What?” Adam took another step forward, sticking his finger in the man’s face. “Since you know you can’t get a girl as pretty as mine, you decided to cop a feel?”
The man’s eyes widened. He looked between me and Adam, and he raised his hand not holding the cane up in the air. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Yeah, right. Maybe you should apologize.”
The man looked at me, a strange expression on his face. “Sorry,” he finally said. Then he limped off down the street, leaning heavily on his cane.
The whole episode left me shaking a bit. I had never been in a confrontation like that with anyone before. I knew that the man hadn’t felt me up, but I was oddly touched that Adam had defended my honor that way. I mean, that is real gallantry. It left no doubt in my mind that he’ll be a good provider and husband.
“That probably wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t wear such a short skirt,” Adam said.
At first, I thought I had heard him wrong. I wasn’t wearing a short skirt. At all. Girls who haven’t uttered a curse word in their entire lives don’t walk around in itty bitty skirts—the skirt I wore tonight fell just above my knees. That’s not too short.
Is it??
I blinked at him. “I thought you liked this skirt.”
“I do.” He winked at me. “I’m just saying. A skirt like that makes guys want to grab you.”
He had a point, I suppose. It’s unfortunate that in this day and age, a woman can’t walk down the street wearing even a modestly short skirt without getting whistled at or grabbed! I hope things are better for women at the time you’re reading this. Thank goodness there are men like your father to look out for women like me.
