Happily Ever, Marigold

The sunset was turning a deep marigold. The horizon was denim blue. The cool breeze tousled all around as each wave moved us closer. She was delicate and alluring, strong and graceful. I was in big trouble, my friend. The ocean wouldn’t stop creating and orchestrating this breathtaking moment for us. Her dark brown eyes radiated a fierce, uncompromising love. The moment we looked into each other’s eyes a blaze ignited. It was a holy-fire, an extraordinary communion and a perfect connection. Perfection is a dangerous illusion. Even though we understood this, neither of us wanted to be anywhere but where we were now, in this moment, in each other’s gaze. Maris was like a sunset, regardless if anyone watched her or not, she would continue to be beautiful. Our meeting was by chance, our life was by choice. She was my favorite choice. We turned around and all of our family and friends were congratulating us. Witnessing our engagement was well planned out. Maris was beaning with joy. Normally she hated surprises, this night didn’t change that, but it changed everything else. I couldn’t believe we found each other eleven years later. We walked together that day and so many more arm and arm facing life with a force and with great faith.

My football team was using our opponent’s practice field. A little chapel on a hill caught my eye as a perfect spiral was thrown into the end zone. “Jefferson, look there.” I lined his eyes down the barrel of my arm. “See it.” “I’ll catch up with you later, gotta get this wrapped tight, this sprain ain’t no joke, RPM.” Jefferson winked, made a clicking noise and pretended to pull his fingers like a trigger.

The winding road up to the chapel was unforgiving. These hills would make for an excellent workout. Around the corner, I could see the entrance straight ahead. College students were flooding out, service had just ended. “Watch out,” was the last words I heard before finding myself covered in hot coffee. The two empty cups were spinning on the ground beside a young lady’s cell phone. The person on the other end was asking if she was ok. She sat with her legs stretched out, laughing. “I’m so sorry,” She said through tears. I helped her up. “Are you?” I was a bit confused. “I am, oh my God, like I am. I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing. I laugh when I am nervous.” She definitely had the giggles. “Zarah, my friends call me Zar.” “I’m Roman, my friends call me RPM, call me Roman.” She looked hurt and confused by my greeting. “I’m kidding call me RPM. I wanted to get a few prayers in before the game tonight. If you’ll excuse me.” I said with a forgiving smile. “You won’t need much prayer.” She added with little team spirit.

They say beauty reveals God. As I stepped into the chapel, the artist and architect of this little church certainly has. If a person entered this place with little or no faith, they certainly left with a feeling of comfort and community. This chapel had distinctive design and character. I honestly thought for a moment that I was looking at another beautiful piece of art work, until she moved. “Hi, I didn’t want to startle you. I’m Maris.” Her hand dangled close to mine. “RPM.” I whispered shaking her hand gently. “I’m sorry, what was that?” She smiled never missing a beat. “Did you say RBM?” “No P as in Paul. RPM. Roman Paul Matthews-Robin. Long name and a longer story.” I couldn’t stop smiling. “I like that. Two original names meet in a chapel. It sounds like a great story already. My name is Marigold, Maris for short. It was my great grandmother’s last name and it’s handed down from generation to generation.” Her smile was sexy and confident. Her voice was like that new song you can play again and again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “The pleasure is all mine.” I respond in harmony. “My friend and I wanted to apologize for her clumsy silliness earlier.” She tossed a shirt to me with her college’s logo on it. I hadn’t even noticed the girl standing beside her. “Yo, RPM you in here man?” Jefferson was out of breath. “Coach wants us back on the field. Now! Well, hello ladies, excuse us if you will.” Jefferson was all teeth when he smiled.

Maris offered to drive us down the hill. Zarah came along and was putting Maris number in my phone. “Smile!” She laughed and clicked a picture of Maris. The car came to a halt. Jefferson and I stepped out and the minute my foot hit the ground I heard a ripping noise. Jefferson had literally ripped my new shirt off of me. “What are you doing?” I stood bare chested. “I have to say you look better without that shirt on.” Maris picked up the gift and tossed it in a bin. “When we see you again, bring that six pack with you.” Zarah said awkwardly. I turned to Maris putting both Jefferson and Zarah behind us. “Are you coming to the game later?” I asked reaching for her hand. “I didn’t get tickets. It’ll be a blow out. Not much to watch, until now.” She shook my hand playfully. “I can get you tickets for you and a few friends. You can sit above us and cheer me on. I mean your friend did give me third degree burns, I might need the encouragement.” She agreed and we arranged to meet. I almost kissed her. I would have too, if my coach wasn’t standing oversee with a very pissed off look.

“This is what she looks like. Her and her friends will be here after their meeting.” I nervously handed my phone off to my mother who held the last ten tickets to the game. “You look anxious, is it about the game?” My dad’s head was always in the game. “No he worried, he ain’t got no game. I never seen him like this.” Jefferson grabbed me to go as he yelled back to my parents over his shoulder, “burn those tickets, this boy done lost his mind.” His laughter and my parents’ laughter filled the empty stadium. The game was a blow out. However, Maris was a no show. Even though the score board showed 55-10 I felt like a zero. “Here’s your phone baby. I text her, she didn’t respond. I waited until the first quarter was over.” My mom felt my disappointment. “I’m just being stupid. Jefferson, let’s go.” I flipped the phone in my pocket after sending a quick note asking if everything was ok. “You aren’t being stupid.” Jefferson surprised me. He was a player, always pushing me to play. “My game is football, yours is women.” I punched him causing a huge frog to float up on his arm. “RPM, I saw the two of you. Lotsa honeys try’n to be this one’s queen bee. She got what it takes. I saw it and you did too. Those beautiful green eyes were popping. Shoot, I am glad you dodged that bullet. That was love. Even I know love when I see it.” Jefferson pulled himself up into our newly rented Jeep Cherokee. “You drive now that the stars and fog out your head.” That was the Jefferson I expected. My brother Jackson climbed in the back. “You boys have fun, be at the airport on time, and we know what on time means?” My dad was prompt in his directions.

“Jackson drive.” I jumped out of the jeep and looked down the long coastline. My fingers ran over the picture and number. I pressed the call button. Jefferson reached over and put the phone on speaker. “Hello this is, Meredith.” The voice was filled with a very heavy accent. “Hi, my name is RPM,. I was calling for Maris.” A long pause followed by some background noise. “Who is this? You are calling Meredith’s phone. Not Maris’. Goodbye.” Some man had taken the phone and hung up on us. Jackson pushed the call button again. “Hello this is Meredith.” She repeated the same exact greeting. “Hi, I just called and I think we may have been disconnected. I was trying to reach Maris.” Another long pause and then the man spoke to us again. “Please do not call this number. This is Meredith Marigold’s phone.” Silence again. He had hung up, the next ten calls went to her voice mail. I finally left a message. “My name is Roman. I am sorry to bother you. I met Maris-Marigold this evening and she gave me this number to call her.” We pulled into a bar off to the side of the beach. There were beautiful college girls lined up along the sand. Jackson and Jefferson had the time of their life at that little beach bar. I drove everyone home and the next day we were on time to the airport.

I returned to Boston. The year came and went. Now, I was preparing to complete my perfect season and my senior year of university. This was all I had energy to focus on. The NFL was talking contracts with my attorney. Everyone was waving around Montblanc Royal pens in the air to impress us. I left class early and jumped in my Rover. I crossed town to another campus. I remembered Maris saying she applied to this school for her Master’s Degree. The school had a lovely church and Jefferson and I would often pray there. Each time I attended I’d ask around about her. A handsome guy stood greeting people as they walked in. “Welcome, glad to have you attending today.” His name badge read Jon. “Thanks Jon, by the way, do you know anyone by the name of Maris?” I shook his hand looking him in his squinted eyes. “Yes, my fiancé. She is setting up for the Mass,” he said casually. My heart skipped a beat. “She is here, do you think I could say hello?” Later I realized I should have had a poker face. “After the service she will be at the luncheon, she is one of the leaders, can’t miss her.” He excused himself to greet others. My eyes looked in every nook and cranny. I didn’t see her anywhere. When the service ended, I followed the crowd. I couldn’t believe the rush of guilt I felt. I had a girlfriend and she was engaged. The guilt washed away with waves of anger soon enough. “Still looking for Maris?” Jon asked as he and another guy approached me. “I had hoped to say hello.” I responded in a questionable form. “Afraid that’s not going to be possible. I actually dropped her off at the airport about an hour or so ago. Hey aren’t you RPM, the first draft pick?” His sternest turned to a thrill. “You the one wanting to meet Maris?” He asked all excited. “No, my girlfriend Kathy did.” I pointed out to where Kathy was meeting me.” Jon still wasn’t taking any chances. “Max we are needed in the lounge.” Far from a Montblanc pen, the black Bic pen would have to sign my first autograph. “To Max, may your dreams fly as high as mine are right now.” Jon wasn’t impressed and I doubt Max ever caught on. I greeted Kathy with an all star kiss.

Years later I attended my brother’s wedding at that elegant little chapel in San Diego. You know how the story ends. What happened next is scrolled out on a little notepad, waiting to be published. “Who are you talking to, baby?” Maris asked as she put the last Marigold in the vase. “I am talking to Meredith’s phone.”