The Other Surprise

Saturday morning came way too early.

We had gotten home late from the boys’ hockey game Friday night, and when my alarm went off I had absolutely no interest in getting out of bed. Normally I could have talked myself into another hour. This morning we had somewhere to be. Nate’s surprise party was in Milwaukee, the cruise wasn’t going to wait for us, and we still had to get ourselves out of Madison and to the marina on time.

Teesh was already moving around the bedroom getting ready while I sat on the edge of the bed trying to convince myself I was awake.

This was normal life for us. Kids. Hockey. Schedules. Figuring out who needed to be where and when. Somewhere along the way, after enough years and enough kids, your name occasionally gets replaced by Dad even when the person saying it is your wife. I barely notice anymore. It’s just part of being us.

But that morning I was noticing her.

I watched her moving around the room longer than I needed to. I do that a lot. Teesh probably has no idea how often I look at her when she isn’t paying attention. I’ve known this woman most of my life, and somehow I still catch myself doing it.

She glanced over and caught me.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She gave me the look.

After this many years, I know pretty much every version of that look. This one was somewhere between suspicious and amused. The one that says she knows I’m up to something but hasn’t decided whether it’s worth asking about.

“You’re pretty,” I told her.

That got me the little smile I was looking for.

Nothing dramatic. No running across the room to kiss her. No big romantic moment. That’s not really us, especially in the middle of getting ready to leave. I tell her she’s beautiful all the time. Pretty. Hot. Whatever happens to be going through my head when I look at her.

And I was definitely looking at her.

There are things about Teesh that have always gotten me. Her eyes. Her smile. The way her shoulders and arms look so distinctly feminine to me. Her dark curls, especially when she wears them down. When we actually get dressed up and go somewhere, she usually leaves her hair down, and I love it that way.

I already knew what the wind on the boat was going to do to those curls.

She would probably spend half the cruise trying to keep them under control.

I was hoping she lost.

I loved her. I thought she was beautiful. I also thought she was so fucking hot, and those two thoughts have never been mutually exclusive for me.

That morning there was something else mixed into it.

Everyone going to Milwaukee knew about the surprise except Nate. Rachel had put the whole thing together, and somehow everyone had managed to keep it quiet. Friends and family were coming from all over. We would meet at the marina, surprise him, spend the afternoon on the boat, check into the hotel afterward, change clothes, and eventually meet everyone downstairs at Potawatomi.

That was the plan everyone knew about.

I had one of my own.

It had started as one of those thoughts that pops into your head and probably disappears nine times out of ten. Except this one didn’t. The closer we got to the weekend, the more I liked it.

Maybe because we almost never get this kind of time anymore.

We’re parents first most days. We’ve been doing it for so long that it’s just the rhythm of our lives. Friday night was a perfect example. We had been at the rink watching our two oldest play for the Woodsmen. Saturday night they had another home game, and we were going to miss it because we’d be in Milwaukee. Even when your kids are older, missing their game feels wrong. There’s always somewhere one of them needs to be, something happening, somebody needing something.

But for one Saturday, we were leaving.

Just Myles and Teesh.

I liked that thought more than I expected to.

We packed for two completely different versions of the same day. The first required layers. September on the water in Milwaukee could be beautiful or miserable, and neither of us had any interest in spending an hour and a half pretending we weren’t freezing. Jackets, warmer clothes, practical shoes. The stuff you wear when you know the wind off the water doesn’t care what you look like.

The second version of the day was packed separately.

The clothes we would change into after the cruise.

Her nicer clothes.

Mine.

The things meant for a casino and a night with friends instead of a chilly boat.

I found myself thinking about that version of her while I packed.

Then I opened the dresser drawer.

It was still there.

I don’t even remember exactly when Teesh bought it. Years ago. I’m not sure she could tell me why anymore either. What I did know was that we had never used it. It had been sitting in that drawer for so long that it had basically become part of the furniture.

I picked it up and looked at it.

The idea immediately came back.

I could have put it down.

Instead, I smiled.

From the bathroom I could hear Teesh moving around, completely unaware of what I was doing. I wrapped the plug so it wouldn’t be obvious if she happened to look into my bag, tucked it between my clothes, and zipped everything shut.

That changed something.

Until then, it had only been an idea.

Now I had brought it with me.

I didn’t have some elaborate script worked out in my head. I didn’t know exactly when I would show it to her or exactly how the conversation would go. That wasn’t really the point.

I just knew my wife.

I knew the look I would probably get when she realized what I had done. I knew there would be a second when she tried to figure out how serious I was. I knew that if she was into it, she would like me being certain about what I wanted instead of nervously asking twelve different ways.

That part of us belonged to us.

Nobody at the party needed to know anything about it.

And something about that made the idea even better.

“Did you grab the other charger?” she called.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

I looked toward the hallway.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

There was a pause.

“Okay.”

I laughed to myself.

Twenty-some years together and apparently my ability to remember a charger still required verification.

That was us.

There was no dramatic transition from parents into lovers. No music started playing. We were still two tired people wandering around our house making sure we had chargers and jackets and everything else we’d need for one night away.

Except every once in a while I looked at the bag.

Then I looked at her.

And I thought about what was inside it.

We carried everything out to the car. Teesh locked the house while I loaded the bags, and for a second I just watched her walking toward me.

She caught me again.

That same suspicious little expression.

“What?”

I smiled.

“Nothing.”

“You’re weird.”

“Probably.”

She got into the passenger seat.

I started the car and pulled away from the house, tired enough that coffee still felt like a necessity rather than a preference. Milwaukee was ahead of us. The marina. Nate’s surprise. A boat full of friends. A hotel. The casino.

A whole day that had already been planned for us.

I reached across the center console and rested my hand on her knee for a moment.

She put her hand over mine like she had a thousand times before.

Then I returned mine to the wheel and headed east.

Behind us, buried among clothes and chargers, was the one thing I had packed entirely for her.

She didn’t know it yet.

For now, I liked it that way.