No Method, Just Madness

Note: This will make little sense if you have not read Part I , Part II, and Part III.

Are you La Cubana Gringa traveling to Kona, Hawaii?

I stared, wide-eyed and unblinking at the screen for quite a few moments…questioning my identity. Was that my name next to that destination!?! Because if so, THANK GOD I shaved my bikini line! But wait a minute, though…an adequately pruned bikini line depends on the bikini…which begs the question, which bikini was packed? And by whom? Oh, and did they pack my favorite skirt? And, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, did whoever packed my bag remember to pack my ceramic straightening iron?? Because if not, it was going to be ’round the clock Tina Turner and Lord knows it’s all fun and games until someone pokes an eye out on a tuft of my frizzy follicles…

The potential ramifications of 24/7 frizz must have initiated a rather lengthy inner dialogue with myself because after a few moments, Vinja, who was standing behind me, excitedly pushed the “Yes” button on the screen for me. In a whirlwind amount of time, I checked my bag, said my goodbyes, glided through security and was seated on the plane to Hawaii. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve such a day of surprises but I made a mental note to find out. And then repeat it. Repeatedly.

Four hours later, I stepped off the plane into the warm, balmy Kona air. As I sat near the baggage claim area waiting for the bags to begin making their way out, I reviewed the text messages that Dochechka had sent me just before the plane departed SF…Pick up the single white courtesy phone by the information desk and the person on the other end of the line will tell you where to meet your car. Before my bag even came out, though, a gentleman walked up to me and asked, “Are you La Cubana Gringa?”

When my bag arrived, he led me to the car where he loaded it up for me and directed me to the backseat. There, card number “6″ awaited me. On the front of the card was a collage of pictures of a resort-type place and on the back was another note from The Brit…

Dear La Cubana Gringa,
If everything has gone according to plan, the last place you expected to be this morning was here on the Big Island! But nevertheless, here you are…for a 4 day and 3 night relaxing anniversary celebration with me. We’ll be staying in the secluded Kona Village Resort. I hope this will be a memorable trip and I look forward to seeing you soon!
Love, The Brit

This was the first card without an instruction…which hopefully meant I’d get to see the master of this well-executed surprise soon!

Upon arrival at Kona Village, I was ushered to the reception desk where three ladies popped out excitedly from the back office… “Ohhhh…you must be La Cubana Gringa!?!?!” They adorned me with a lei, handed me a rum punch drink (and just in time…the champagne was starting to wear off!) and sent me off to our room…a beautiful bungalow surrounded on three sides by the ocean.

I entered the room and, not surprisingly, The Brit was nowhere to be found. But he’d clearly been there…the lights were dimmed, there was music playing, the balcony doors had been left ajar to allow the sound of the ocean to travel in on the breeze, and my very favorite dress had been layed out for me. On the bed, there was a note and a map…Get dressed and meet me on the beach, it said. I scrambled to get dressed and headed down to the black sand beach right next to our room. By then it was well after sunset, and on the black sand there was little, if any, light reflection. I successfully stubbed my toe on a chunk of lava rock and then nearly walked straight into the water…but after a minimal amount of foul language and a slight course adjustment, I found The Brit. He was seated at a candle lit table with a bottle of Dom Perignon and two glasses.

“That was fun!! Can we do that whole thing again?” I said jokingly as I hugged him tight. We toasted to our three years together and over champagne, we chatted about this wonderful holiday he’d planned for us both. I honestly didn’t know how he was ever going to manage to top this. I don’t think he did either!

After a short while, The Brit pointed out that we had dinner reservations to make but that he had one last gift for me back in our room. So help me god, if he had a round of triple crème brie in there, this would be perfect! I excitedly helped him gather up the candles, glasses and champagne and we headed inside. Out on the balcony, he handed me a gift box, approximately three feet wide by three feet tall, wrapped in red paper. I suspected there was a trick involved as nothing that day had been straightforward…and my instincts proved to be correct. Inside that big box was another smaller gift wrapped box…and inside that was another…and so on. Before I could even adjust my eyes long enough to see what was inside the final box, I looked over at The Brit who’d already gotten down on one knee…

“Will you marry me?” he asked.

Immediately I hugged him. I might have screamed as well. Or giggled gleefully. I don’t remember. But when I finally came to my senses and composed myself, I told him that I thought he could orchestrate a more romantic proposal…and that until then, I’d consider his current one.*

And with that, he slipped a ring on my left ring finger…a beautiful ring that I will happily wear for the rest of my days. Along with it was the final card, number “7.” On the back was a note from The Brit (this one I’ll cherish to myself) and on the front was a close-up photo he’d taken of the ring. And one final quote:

“You don’t marry someone you can live with,
you marry the person who you cannot live without.”

* Just kidding. Of course I said yes immediately!