by Shawn Inmon
We drove a mile or so to a little Mexican restaurant in Tumwater called El Serape. We both ordered Chile Verde and Shawn ordered another iced tea while I had a grande margarita. We had so much to talk about that it felt like we would never be able to cram it all into one lifetime. Our first few dates involved a lot of comparing notes about what we had been told about each other, and where the discrepancies and lies had been. Shawn was disarmingly honest about everything, admitting to faults and mistakes and taking responsibility for the mistakes he had made, sometimes much more than he needed to.
Those conversations were also intense. We were always circling the subject of our baby. Each time the subject came up, I saw the hurt in his eyes and knew that the pain I had felt all these years was now a shared burden. His version—that he had wanted both me and our baby—became more credible every time I saw his expression.
When we walked into the warm summer air, I felt lighter than I had in forever. Shawn opened the door for me and leaned down and kissed my neck, giving me goose bumps I also hadn’t had in forever.
“Dawn Adele, you fill up my senses.”
“Seriously, Patrick Shawn? John Denver? What’s next, Barry Manilow?”
He smiled and kissed me. I felt so happy.
We drove back to the ACS parking lot where my car was parked. I felt an overwhelming sense of security and love. Shawn was in the middle of telling me a story about a real estate deal that he had been working on that day, but something else suddenly seemed a lot more important. I reached out and touched his arm.
“Shawn, I love you.”
His mouth fell open a little bit. He said, “I will never leave you, unless you send me away.”
“Why would I ever want to do that? The best part of my life has been when I’m with you. I love you and I want you with me, always.”
“I love you, too, Dawn. I just want you to know what I have always known: I will never leave you unless you send me away. We’ve both had so many losses in our lives, I want there to be one thing that you know you can count on, and that’s me.”
He laid his head softly against my shoulder and I saw that he was crying. “You’re such a girl,” I said.
“You’re such a romantic. And hey, whatever happened to ‘taking it slow?’ Does waiting three whole days before you tell me count as ‘taking it slow?’”
“I could take it back, you know.”
“No, no, that’s all right. I’m perfectly fine with you being unable to contain your love for me.”
I hadn’t planned on telling Shawn I loved him right then, or for quite a while. Somehow, when I’m with him, my feelings just come out.
Going home that night and sleeping on the couch at the house I was still sharing with Aaron was uncomfortable, and I’m not just talking about the couch. Shawn drove down the next day, and we looked at rentals around Centralia and Chehalis.
I knew that in his heart, he wanted me to move up to Enumclaw and into his house. It was plenty big enough, but I knew that wouldn’t be right. It was way too much, way too soon. Also, when I thought about it, I realized I had never had a place that was just my own. I had lived with Mom and Dad on Damron Road until I moved in with Rick. I wanted to have a place that was mine.
It took us a few days, but we found it; a little duplex in one of the not-so-great neighborhoods in Chehalis. The kindest thing to say about it was that it was very basic. But it had three bedrooms, which meant there was enough room for me, Dani and our new baby that would be showing up in just a few weeks.
Shawn rented a truck and drove it down from Enumclaw with some furniture from his own house. I needed it, since I was leaving almost everything behind. I thought it was better if we made the move while Aaron wasn’t home, so I found out when he was going to be gone. Shawn, Dani, Connie and her boyfriend Jamie and I loaded up everything in just a couple of hours.
I was home, at least for the moment.
Dani’s due date was in mid-August. When nothing happened by then, her doctor set a date of August 18th to induce labor. We were scheduled to arrive at the hospital at 7:00 AM, so I had my alarm set for 6:00. When it was still dark out, Dani came stumbling into my room, saying she wasn’t feeling well. I mumbled a couple of incoherent questions and sent her back to bed until it was time to get up.
In my defense, I am not a morning person. Shawn likes to say that I am not a morning person in the same way that the Titanic didn’t have a successful maiden voyage. Shawn says a lot of things that get him in trouble.
When my alarm went off, I remembered what day it was and got out of bed and went to check on Dani. She was up and dressed and walking across the floor when she halfway doubled over. It was a contraction. She had been in labor for several hours by that time; I just hadn’t recognized it through the fog of sleep.
We hurried to the hospital and told them that they could forget about inducing her because nature was taking its course. They put us in a delivery room, and the hard work began. I’ve always been proud of my girls, but I have never been more proud of Dani than I was that day. It was a hard labor that went on and on through the morning and afternoon. After eight to ten hours of labor, the doctor examined her and decided that the baby’s head was turned wrong and it wouldn’t be safe to deliver him naturally.
It was a flurry of activity from there, and even though Dani looked scared sometimes, she was as brave as a girl could be. At first they told me they were just going to do a local anesthetic, so I could stay in the room during the Caesarian. They gave me some fresh scrubs and told me to wash up so I could be there.
Soon after that, though, there was something in her vital signs and they decided to do a general anesthetic instead of a local. That meant I got shooed out to the waiting room with Connie, still dressed in the scrubs. I stood outside the operating room for an hour looking like a nurse, I guess, because people were constantly asking me questions.
Then a nurse came out and told us that everything had gone fine. We would be able to go in and see Dani and her healthy baby boy in just a minute. That minute seemed to take a very long time, but we already know that patience isn’t my strong suit.
When we went in, the nurse handed me a little bundle with the most beautiful boy in the world wrapped inside. He had dark hair and the most peaceful, handsome little face I had ever seen. I fell in love again, instantly. He was so perfect.
Dani named him Yael. He changed all our lives, but Dani’s the most. Growing up in the chaos of my marriage to Rick had been hard on her, and she had been heading down the wrong road since she was eleven years old. Yael changed all that. He inspired her and focused her on the things that were important. She was never the same.
Shawn had to work that day, but drove down as soon as he could. We stood together in Dani’s room, holding Yael and marveling at how much we already felt for someone so small. It was one of the best and happiest days of my life.
Once, while I was holding him, I saw Shawn looking at Dani, and then back at me and Yael. He had a sad little smile on his face and I knew what he was thinking. We had missed out on our version of this moment, and we both knew it. It was so sad. Still, here was proof that our children could make better decisions than we ever did.
Grow Old With Me
By the first weekend in September, Shawn and I had been back together for two months. We were still a brand new couple, but at the same time, I felt a growing sense of permanence when we were together. That night sitting in Charlie’s, I had felt like I was never going to let him go again if I could help it. That feeling had only grown stronger.
We decided to take the Saturday and drive back down to Mossyrock. Since all four of our parents were dead and neither of us had any relatives left in Mossyrock, there hadn’t been much reason for either of us to go back very often. We didn’t have anything in particular to do or see, and Mossyrock doesn’t have a lot of thrills and excitement. We just wanted to see the old hometown through the perspective of being back together.
We mad
e the two-hour drive arguing about music, movies and all the other stuff we had argued about since 1976. Nothing but the names had changed over the years. We drove through town and I turned to Shawn.
“Alright, that killed about sixty seconds. What do you want to do now?”
“I guess I can see why we used to drive out town or to Longview on all our dates,” he said.
We drove past all our old hangouts, but nothing was the same. The Mossyrock Lanes bowling alley looked long since closed down. The G Theater, where we had gone to many movies together, was boarded up. I had no idea what kids did for fun in town in 2009.
We crossed Highway 12 and turned right onto Damron Road. Everything looked strange, even though much of it was unchanged. Shawn actually drove past his old trailer before he stopped and realized what he had done.
“I can’t believe I just did that. I drove past my own house.”
He backed up and pulled into the side yard where he had parked his Vega all those years before. I looked at my old house. It was different. Someone had remodeled it. It looked nicer, but it didn’t look like home.
“You know, we are in Mossyrock,” I said. “Sitting in someone else’s yard might get us shot at.”
“If they do, it’ll probably only be with rock salt. It’s worth the risk.” He pointed out at the side yard. “That’s where you became my friend, that’s where we had our first kiss, that’s where… we became ‘us.’”
He put the car in reverse and turned back up the way we had come. Before he got back on the highway, he turned right and slowly drove up the hill to Doss Cemetery.
“How long has it been since you’ve been up here?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe thirty years?”
“What? None of your other boyfriends ever brought you up here? What’s wrong with them?”
“To the cemetery? No, none of them ever brought me up here. I wouldn’t have let them even if they had wanted to. This was our place.”
“I know. It hasn’t been that long for me. When I saw you at Bill & Bea’s in 2006, I was missing you so bad I drove down here. I didn’t even go into town. I just drove up here and sat in the cemetery. I listened to our old songs and… well, it wasn’t a very happy time. This is much better.”
No argument there.
He turned down the little path that ran alongside the cemetery and drove straight to our old parking spot. “You remember coming here a few times?” he asked.
I looked at him like he couldn’t possibly be serious. “Yes…”
“And do you remember what we used to do here?”
“Yes, vaguely.”
“Well?”
“Oh, you want to crawl in the back and make out like a teenager? Do you have a chiropractor on permanent retainer? I think we would both need one.”
He shrugged. “It’s worth the risk to me.”
I hit him, then rested my head against his shoulder.
“I never even let myself dream that we could get back here, you know?”
Shawn nodded and turned on the windshield wipers. It was just starting to rain. The stereo was playing the CD he had made just for the trip. It was a very cozy feeling.
All of a sudden, Shawn sat up straight, opened his car door and got out into the rain. “Where are you going?” I asked.
He didn’t answer, but walked around the car and opened my door. He got down on one knee in the muddy grass.
“Dawn Adele. I have always loved you. I will always love you. Will you marry me?”
I was surprised, of course. I mean, he had put Grow Old With Me by Adam Sandler on the CD he had made for the trip, but he was always doing things like that. I probably should have been more surprised than I was, but on so many levels, it felt like we already were married. I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else ever again.
It took about two seconds for all these thoughts to run through my mind, but when I looked at Shawn, he actually looked like he was holding his breath and waiting anxiously. Could he really have any doubt what I would say?
For the second time in my life, I said, “Yes, Shawn. I will marry you.”
This time was a lot happier than the first. The first time, I knew that even though we loved each other and wanted to get married, there was no practical way to make it happen. This time, there was really nothing that could stop us, although there were a few hurdles we had to jump over. For one thing, we were both married to other people. Shawn had everything worked out with his ex, so I wasn’t worried about that, but I hadn’t so much as spoken to Rick in five years.
That led us to the need to decide what kind of a wedding we wanted. I couldn’t imagine running off to Vegas and getting married. I knew I had to have Connie and Dani there, and I was sure Shawn felt the same about his daughters. Still, in 2009, Shawn’s real estate was slow and I was just making enough to pay my bills every month. I had no idea how we would pay for a big wedding. Those were all worries for another day.
I kissed Shawn.
“Are you still serious about crawling into the back seat?” I asked.
“I was before I kneeled down here. Now I’m pretty sure it’s out of the question.”
It’s hell getting old.
On the ride back home, we decided to try and have a full wedding, but to put it off for a year or so to give us plenty of planning time. I wanted to have a fall wedding, so by the time we got to my place in Chehalis, we had picked October 16th, 2010 as the date. That gave us fourteen months to get two divorces finalized and plan a wedding for a couple of hundred of our closest friends. No problem.
A few weeks later, Shawn called me at work. “Hey, beautiful one, what are you doing on October 16th?”
I was pretty sure this was a trick question, so I asked, “Which year?”
“This year, of course!”
“Oh. I’ve got nothin’. Why? What are you doing on October 16th?”
“I’m going to be in Seattle celebrating my pre-versary with you.”
“Our what?”
“Our pre-versary. It will be exactly one year before we get married.”
“Did you just make that word up?”
“Maybe. Do you think I should trademark it?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it. So, you’re telling me I need to get that weekend off?”
“Yes. We’re gonna party like it’s 1979.”
When October 16th arrived, I was planning on sleeping in, since nothing good ever happens before noon. At 9:00 AM, Shawn sent me a text that said Happy Pre-versary. Copyright pending. I could have killed him. I was awake though, so I texted him back. Much pain has been avoided by the fact that facial expressions don’t translate through texts.
I had no idea what we were going to do, but Shawn had it all planned out. It was mid-afternoon by the time we fought through the ungodly traffic into downtown Seattle. Shawn pulled up to valet parking at a hotel called Hyatt Place. When we walked into the lobby I felt like it really was 1979 all over again, and we were two teenagers from the sticks who had run away from home and were hiding out in the big city.
Shawn checked us in and we took the elevator up to the twentieth floor. It was just a normal, nice hotel room, but when Shawn opened the curtains I saw that we had a view of the ferries on Puget Sound. I went into the bathroom to get all my necessities unpacked. By the time I came out, he had transformed the room.
There were a dozen roses arranged in a vase on the writing desk, candles lit all over the room, and he had plugged his iPod into the player beside the bed. Of course, it was playing Always and Forever.
“Happy pre-versary, baby,” he said. “I’ve got to tell you that all I can today, because after today they’re all just anniversaries. This is the only one of these we’ll ever have. So, do you remember when we went up and saw Terri and Tommy that day that I invited you to Prom?”
I nodded.
“Well, that day, Tommy and I wanted to take you into Seattle to see Laserium, but the show was too late. When you were talking
to your mom on the phone, I heard her say ‘That’s a good thing to save for another day.’ But we never made it back to Seattle together after that, so that day never arrived. Until today. That’s where we’re going to celebrate our pre-versary.”
Hyatt Place, it turned out, was just a few blocks from the Monorail to Seattle Center. It had been built for the World’s Fair in 1962, but it was still up and running. We rode the Monorail and walked hand in hand through Seattle Center toward the towering arches that marked the Pacific Science Center.
Shawn bought us two tickets to something called Laser Floyd and we were the first ones in line. Shawn always likes to be early. When they opened the doors to the Laserium, I saw that it was just a big planetarium, with a few seats scattered in the back and open carpeting everywhere else.
“The seats are where the old people sit,” Shawn said.
“And…”
“No. We are not old people. We’ll be lying down here, just like we would have in 1978.”
Shawn laid down on carpeting that had seen better days and could have used a good vacuuming. The seats were looking better and better to me, but when he looked up at me with that goofy I’m-still-kind-of-a-teenager grin on his face, I knew I was done for. I sat down and leaned back against Shawn’s chest, using him a pillow.
When the music started, a self-announced ‘laser technician’ started bouncing laser images off the ceiling of the planetarium in time to the music. Since it was all Pink Floyd music, which is pretty spacey to begin with, it was easy to get lost in it. Song blended into song and I got completely sucked into the experience, floating along with the music.
When the last note faded away, people applauded and Shawn sat up. He looked very satisfied. It had been important to him to fulfill the promise to take me that he had made all those years ago.
“There are a lot of other things that I’ve dreamed about doing with you, but our budget for this weekend was pretty limited, so we had to settle for Laserium for now.”
I smiled at him, shook my head and told him the truth. “It was perfect.”