“Mummy, why does the hanger have your name on it?” asked my five-year-old daughter while pointing at the gold-plated hanger that has a special place in our closet.
Her question instantly brought me back to a state of sweet reverie of the night I became Mrs. Leah Cohen.
I think most girls have thought about their dream wedding, myself included. Would I be saying ‘I do’ at the most romantic city in the world — Paris? Would my loving father shed a tear when he walk me down the aisle? Would my wedding dress be strapless or lacy?
Of course in reality, you need to find Mr. Right before you envision your dream wedding. And I have. I found my Mr. Right two years ago at a bookstore. I was quietly browsing through the new release section at my local bookstore exactly two years ago today when a man came up to me and asked “The last five books I’ve read were awful. Do you have any recommendations?” I knew it was his cheesy attempt of a pick-up line, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for cute bookworms.
Today marks the second anniversary of that very special day and I cannot wait to get home to see him. Is it weird that I still feel a tingle of anticipated excitement at the thought of seeing him? My very own Prince Charming —Marcus Cohen.
When I finally got home, the smell of roasting meat whiffed through the air. “I’m home, babe!” I announced as I took off my shoes and gave Marcus a big bear hug. I slipped my hands under his arms from behind, pressed myself against him and breathed in the familiar scent of sweet, musky sandalwood. Marcus stopped cooking, turned around and pulled me towards him. “How was your day, sweetie?” he asked after pecking my forehead gently.
“Oh work was exhausting! This morning, I— ”
“Actually sweetie, would you mind going into our bedroom first before you tell me about your day? I think you left something there this morning.”
“Oh”, I couldn’t for the life of me remember what I had forgotten this morning that was so important, but I went into our room anyway. I glanced around, and then that was when I saw it—a gold-plated hanger that spelled out ‘Mrs. Cohen’ in delicate cursive writing. Hanging on it was an elegant white wedding dress with chiffon layers cascading down like waterfall. I instantly turned around to see if Marcus would give me an explanation, but he was already there on one knee holding a ring.
“Don’t ask me how I know, but the first time I saw you at the bookstore, I knew you were the one. And ever since then, I’ve been waiting for the right time to ask you this question, and now here it is”—his voice broke—“Leah, would you marry me?”
“Mummy, do you think a special boy would give me a hanger with my name on it too?” asked my daughter hopefully.
“Of course sweetie. And whenever you look at it, you’ll always remember why you said yes.”