Cupid Hates Me: A Short Story Page 4

look at me, but she was grinning like a maniac. Something was definitely up.

  The spotlight traveled over to the staircase leading to the second story and there, standing at the top of the stairs, were three men dressed as Kenny and two of his Kats.

  I looked over at Claire again. She was still grinning from ear to ear, and she still refused to meet my eye.

  Then the strains of “Forever Love” came wafting out of the speakers.

  No way!

  Kenny and his Kats danced their way to the center of the dance floor where they did some pretty impressive synchronized dance moves.

  “Is that who I think it is?” I asked Claire.

  She tried to look all innocent. “Who do you think it is?”

  Kenny looked an awful lot like Daniel, and the Kats bore a striking resemblances to James and Gordon.

  The song and dance was winding down, and I realized that “Kenny” was making his way over to our table. The spotlight followed him.

  When he reached the table he stopped in front of me. It was definitely Daniel. Then Kenny/Daniel got down on one knee.

  This is it. This is actually it. He’s finally going to propose! I was suddenly plagued with a last-minute niggling doubt. What of this is all some big joke? What if— But I didn’t get in anymore paranoid what-ifs.

  Daniel had a ring box out. He was taking my hand.

  “Charlene Samson—“ he said, “—will you marry me?”

  I think I about fell out of my chair because Claire reached over to hold me up.

  I said, “Yes,” of course and kissed him. Through the buzzing in my ears, I realized everyone was whistling and applauding. Pretty quickly, though, everybody turned their attention back to whatever they’d been doing before the unexpected entrance of Kenny and the Kool Kats and left us alone. Everybody except Claire and Sam and their significant others, still dressed as Kats.

  “You knew!” I said. “You all knew.”

  “We didn’t,” Claire said. “I mean, Sam and I didn’t. Not until after the ceremony, anyway.”

  Gordon and James had. Obviously.

  “But the song—“ I said. “I can’t believe Daniel remembered about the song.” I hadn’t mentioned it once since that first night at the bar. I was sure of that.

  “How could I not remember?” Daniel said. “You told me it was your favorite on the night we met.”

  “I know. But that was a year ago.”

  “I remember everything about that night. You were wearing a blue sweater, a little frayed out at the cuff. You paid your tab with a fifty dollar bill. You smelled like vanilla and roses—“

  He claimed to be a hopeless romantic. Maybe he was telling the truth.

  “But when did you decide to propose?” I couldn’t help asking. I should have waited to ask that question when all of our nearest and dearest weren’t listening, but I had to know.

  “About six months ago.”

  “I can back him up on that,“ said Gordon. “James and I went with him to pick out the ring.

  “You bought a ring six months ago!”

  I was too happy to get mad, but stringing me along for six months without giving me a shred of hope to cling to? Really!

  “I picked out the ring six months ago,” said Daniel. “But I just finished paying for it last week.”

  I looked down at the ring on my finger. It was a beautiful ring, much nicer than a bartender could easily afford. I wondered what he’d had to go through to save up for it. All my irritation evaporated.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “For what?” Daniel asked.

  “For doubting you.”

  “I can’t blame you,” he said. “It’s just that I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted my proposal to be memorable.”

  “Well, you certainly succeeded.”

  There was a slow song playing, and Daniel and I headed out onto the dance floor for our first dance as an engaged couple. As we swayed to the music while indulging in shameless public displays of affection, I realized that we’d turned into one of those couples I used to hate.

  That’s OK. Hate me if you have to. I know Cupid doesn’t. I’m 100% sure of that, now.

  The End