Hugging him tight, feeling him lift me off my feet, I was on a magical merry-go-round, body spinning, face grinning. Finally I was winning with love, with fate, and with chance. It was a Pretty Woman moment and Quinton was the black Richard Gere. There was only one minor detail missing. I still wanted him to ask me the question in a more traditional way. Not that I had a problem with his more roundabout approach, but after thirty-five years of waiting, a girl wants to hear those four magical words. The four words that would remove the shackles and free me from the vise grip of the dreaded Moore family curse. Yes, I wanted to hear those four words: Will-you-marry-me?

“So, does your smile mean you accept my invitation?” he said, for the first time looking unsure himself.

Invitation? That’s an odd way of describing what was obviously a proposal. I figured maybe I should guide him to the obvious with a subliminal hint.

“Are you asking do I accept your proposal?” Okay, so I didn’t have time for subtleties, especially with Sheree’s party only four days, five hours, and fifty-seven minutes away.

“If that’s what you want to call it, then yes, do you?”

Wait a second, if that’s what I want to call it? I was confused. “Well, what do you want to call it, Quinton?”

“I called it what it was, an invitation. An invitation to live life the way it was meant to be lived. Montana, this isn’t that deep, I’m asking you to come travel with me for a year.”

“And then what happens after the year is up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Quinton, I need to know. A woman needs to know.”

“Needs to know what?”

“What’s going to happen next! You want me to just say okay and just set aside a year and go travel with you? I wouldn’t even know what to pack because I wouldn’t even know where I was going or when I was coming back or how long I was going for or if we ever made it to where we were supposed to be going because I didn’t know where we were going in the first place.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Everything. Quinton, I just can’t live my life like a participle and dangle.”

“But that’s what you do for a living, Montana. You dangle. And you make thousands of people a day feel safe and secure with the thought of dangling. So now all of a sudden, why would you be afraid to dangle?”

“What about marriage?”

“I’ve tried it, Montana. Twice. It doesn’t work. All it did for me was ruin two very good friendships.”

“And kids? What about raising a family?”