Tis the time of the month for a story!  So, what say you?  Drop me a word, and I’ll spin a tale!

Sometimes I wonder if my fiction is not more revealing than nonfiction.

Leave me a word in the comments on this post sometime between now and late Wednesday afternoon, and I’ll give you a story Thursday.

Thanks for the words!  Enjoy this, uhh, masterpiece!

I knock on Manny’s door.

“Katy, is that you?  Come on in!”

I open the door, look around, and take a big whiff.  I am pleasantly surprised that the guy smell is almost entirely masked by the stir-fry cooking in the kitchen.  It’s also a bit neater than I expected.  Manny is in the kitchen, slaving over the stove.  Never one to lead an abstemious lifestyle, I see that Manny is already cooking up a feast.

“Smells good.”

“I’ll be finished with dinner in a moment.  Go ahead and have a seat in the living room.  I already put a glass of pink lemonade in there for you.  I’ll have you eating a gourmet meal in no time.”

Manny knows that as a teacher, I welcome a few moments of rest before our evenings together.  Though we’ve been together for two months, this is my first time in Manny’s apartment.  As I sit down on the couch, I see the coffee table is mostly clean: only a few breadcrumbs and a clearish residue remains of what was probably a messy table minutes before I walked in.  Glancing over near the door, I see the trashcan stuffed with evidence of pizza and chicken wings.

As I continue my sleuthing glance around the room, I spot an end table covered with Manny’s belongings.  A comb sticks out from among a stack of accountancy papers–Manny runs his small business from home–and something else…is that a knitting needle?

I walk over to the table and push aside the papers to see what attracted my attention from across the room.  Sure enough, there was not one, but two knitting needles.

“Manny, do you knit?” I exclaim.

Manny sheepishly peeks his head from around the corner.  “Uhh, yes I do.  Not a lot or anything, but I find it’s great work to keep my fingers nimble.  I do it some when I’m taking a break from work.”

“Seriously?“  I guess you learn something new each day.

After this revelation, I have to dig more.  I don’t expect to find a magazine filled with voluptuous women or anything–Manny’s not a degenerate like that–but I am curious to see what other secrets I might discover.  I, of course, googled him before we ever started dating, so I know he’s not a convicted felon, but you never know what other types of secrets someone might be hiding.

As I reach under the stack of papers, I feel something fuzzy yet firm and the perfect size to fit in my palm.  What is this?  It can’t be what I think it is.  I pull it out, open it and stop in my tracks when I recognize that it is exactly what I thought it was.

It’s a little black box with a diamond ring inside.

I know Manny’s not afraid of commitment.  His steadfastness to his business through thick and thin for 5 years was one of the qualities that attracted me to him.  Still, this seems soon, even for him.  We’ve only been together 2 months!

Quickly, I stuff the ring back under the pile of papers, and decide to pretend like I didn’t find anything.  I walk into the kitchen and ask, “So, whatcha cookin’?”

“I thought I’d make beef stir-fry.”  He apparently sees something in my face because he adds, “I know you’re a turophile and everything, but not every meal needs to include cheese.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” I say distractedly.  Trying not to give anything away I add cheerfully, “It looks good!”  I notice the plethora of swanky spice bottles he has out.  I think he just might be a better cook than me.

We finally sit down and eat the delicious stir-fry.  By the time I take the last bite, my heart finally is beating at a normal rate.  With my heart calm, I realize that I have to confront Manny about the ring.  I’m just not ready for that kind of big decision.

I decide it’s best to get ambulatorybefore I ask him about the ring, so I suggest we take a walk around the neighborhood.  I notice with delight that he doesn’t approach the end table with the surreptitious ring before we leave.  At least he appears to have no plans to spring it on me tonight.

As we walk, I notice how at ease Manny seems with me.  Perhaps getting engaged isn’t so far out of line.  I already know so much about him: he’s generous with his time and money, he’s patient with me, he’s humble, teachable, and a hard worker.  I begin to doubt myself as to whether I should bring up what I found.

As we walk hand-in-hand admiring the beautiful weather, I just can’t take it any more.  I have to tell him.

“Manny?”

“Hmm?”

“While you were cooking I was sitting in the living room.  I saw the knitting needles, which intrigued me.  While I was at your end table, I also noticed something else…”

I pause, hoping that Manny would figure out what I’m alluding to, but his expression indicates otherwise so I continue bluntly, no longer able to hold back.

“I saw the engagement ring.”

“Oh yeah, isn’t it pretty?  I told David he did a good job picking it out.”

“You let David pick out my ring?”

“Wait…your ring?  You didn’t think…no, you couldn’t have.  It’s not your ring; it’s David’s ring, that he’s going to use to propose to Ashley!  He asked me to keep it for a few days so that she doesn’t find it.”

At this, I am a little relieved, but mostly seething…but not at Manny, at myself.  How could I jump to such conclusions?  It’s not like Manny to make a rash decision.

Manny just smiles at me and puts his arm around my shoulder.

“So, if it was your ring…what would you have said?”