Today I felt much like Shelby, a high-maintenance, flamboyant woman that captured my heart–as a main character in my novel.
I stepped out of my car, blond wisps of hair swirling in the wind, sparkly brown sandals, and painted toes, as I hear “Hey, Beautiful” from across the parking lot. I turned on my wedge heels to see who may be talking. A man in a large black truck leaned out the side window and asked, “Will you marry me?” Stunned, but only for a second, I responded, “Nah, not today.” I smiled back at him, only to be somewhat friendly after such a proposal, and headed in the direction of my original plan, the quilt store.
Can you say that’s ever happened to you? Probably not. My husband was less than enthused, but what can a man say? His wife was left vulnerable in a parking lot with vultures lurking in large black trucks. I can’ t say I blame him, another man lusting, or at least that’s how I looked at it, after his wife. My husband told me, in his sweet laughing kind of tone, “You are to stay in the house.” I laughed with him at his somewhat serious comment, and casually changed the subject.
So, for me, the marriage proposal was somewhat flattering. Of course, the man of my dreams is near and dear to my heart, and one that I wouldn’t trade for any other man in a large black truck. For that matter, any man at all. The ironic part of this story is MY sweet man drives a large black truck too.