The car sped along New York Interstate 87, winding its way through the Adirondack Mountains, the glow of the city now a distant memory. The hum of the engine provided a soothing complement to the soft voice of Delilah coming from the car speakers. “Hello! And who am I speaking with tonight?” Soft and sensual, her voice wrapped itself around the couple like a cozy blanket.
Tomas kept his eyes on the winding road. His wife Eleanor sat beside him, her hands resting casually on her lap. Smiling to himself, he turned up the volume to better hear the next caller’s story. He knew how much Eleanor loved these phone-in shows, the way she teared up at heartfelt stories or laughed at the quirky one-liners. He also knew their potential to evoke unpleasant memories.
The radio crackled briefly, then a young man’s voice broke through, nervous but determined. “Hi, Delilah,” he began, his voice trembling. “I’m Jared. So glad I got through to you. I wanted to tell you about how I proposed to my girlfriend, and dedicate a song to her … to let her know how much she means to me.”
“Hi Jared!” Delilah’s tone was a perfect mix of warmth and curiosity. “What’s your girlfriend’s name? And tell me more about her.”
“Her name is Tina, and we’ve known each other since grade school,” Jared continued, his voice growing steadier. “We’ve always been there for each other, through everything. I love her with all the better part of my soul.”
“Sweethearts from way back. How wonderful! Friends to lovers?” Delilah’s voice sparkled with delight, the kind of joy that draws people in. “When you find the right one, you just know,” she added softly. “So, how old are you both now, and how did you propose?” She coaxed him.
There was a brief pause as if Jared was looking for his words. “I’m twenty-three. Tina just turned twenty-two. Last night, I took her to the same place where my grandfather proposed to my grandmother, and my dad to my mom. It’s a special spot for our family. And I proposed to her there, too.”
“I gather she said yes?” Delilah asked.
“Ya, she did,” he replied shyly.
“That’s such a beautiful story. Beautiful, how you kept with family tradition.” Delilah’s tone was kind and reassuring. “Congratulations to you both. Is there a song that’s your song or would you like me to find one for you?”
“You can find one for us. That’d be awesome.”
“I’ll find a good one for you. Thanks for calling in, Jared. Hope your sweetheart is listening, and you make sure to hold her tight. I’m gonna play “Every Breath You Take” by The Police for you both tonight. Young, happy, in love, a commitment to be together forever… Folks, romance is in the air tonight…”
As the notes drifted softly through the speakers, Eleanor turned to Tomas. “Do you remember asking me to marry you?” she asked, a small smile curling on her lips.
Tomas glanced at her, his eyes twinkling. “I ask you every day, don’t I, Ele?”
Eleanor chuckled softly, knowing his playful nature well. “You know what I mean,” she said, her tone more serious. Over the years, in quiet moments, Ele’s mind often drifted to the first time she and Tomas met, to those youthful years full of promise. But they were also years full of obstacles to their being together. She and Tomas were young and deeply in love, and they had wanted to start a life together.
Tomas could sense the sadness coming over her.
She had felt trapped. Her family’s rules were suffocating. She couldn’t do anything without asking for permission. It was as if her every step had to be accounted for. The day after she graduated, she went straight to a full-time job. That was supposed to be her freedom. She worked hard, but saw almost none of her paycheck. Her mother took it to buy stuff for the house. She even gave some of it to her brother. He needs it much more than you, she’d say. Eleonor didn’t dare protest. Dutiful daughters didn’t protest. She was a dutiful and respectful daughter, but she had wanted to make her own choices, speak with her own voice. She had wanted to work and go to school and be independent.
Tomas noticed the tears trickling down Eleanor’s cheeks. Holding on to the steering wheel with one hand, he reached over to the backseat with the other and pulled out a few tissues. “It’s in the past, Ele,” he said, knowing full well what she was thinking about.
“It wasn’t fair, Tom.” Eleanor sniffed. “You know how horribly my brother teased me. He called me ‘ugly’ and ‘stupid.’ He said it so often that I believed him. Neither of my parents stood up for me. They said that it was his way of showing how much he loved me. I was too scared of what might have happened if I answered back.”
“It’s okay,” Tom said softly. “It’s long passed, Ele.”
Eleanor wiped the tears from her eyes, tucked the tissue in her sleeve, and stared at her engagement ring. She remembered how handsome Tomas was then. Jet black hair, sideburns, always well dressed. A bad boy with a good heart and an infectious smile.
“And then you arrived,” she looked at Tomas tenderly. “What luck that you moved into the house next door. I was surprised when you started to take an interest in me.”
“Your green eyes lured me. I loved you from the moment we met, Ele.”
“I liked that you paid attention to me, Tom.”
She could still feel the thrill of passing notes to each other. She wasn’t supposed to talk to him – or to any boy. The rules were clear; her parents would not have approved. But Tomas had found a way. The first time it was just a scrap of paper passed quietly and quickly by the front gate of her house. His messy handwriting made her heart race: You look nice today.
Then the notes began to flow. What started as casual exchanges turned into something more. They shared jokes about family members, then secrets, and soon love letters. She would tuck them away in her school bag, then unfold each one, alone in her room, her fingers trembling.
He came by the house, too, always under some pretense – visiting her brother, returning a book, watching a Canadiens hockey game on a Saturday night with her family. But every time, he came for her. She could feel it. He’d sit at a respectable distance, always careful, respectful of her parents’ strict rules. Tomas never pushed, never rushed. He was always far from her, and yet so close. Each visit made her heart swell. She admired him for it. Loved him for it. Her parents didn’t know the half of it – how his persistence was everything she’d needed. How, with every note, with every careful glance, he was slowly stealing her heart.
The hum of the car speeding down the highway filled the void. Neither one spoke for a long time, both lost in their own thoughts.
“My parents were strict but, thank God, they liked you, Tom.” Eleanor gazed out the side window, as the trees rushed past.
“Ya, I think they did, Ele,” Tomas chuckled. “Those love notes were our lifeline, weren’t they?”
“And remember how we snuck around, trying to find a meeting place, without getting caught?”
The rush of it, the excitement, thrummed through him every time. He remembered the first time like it was yesterday. It was during her lunch hour. He had passed her a note that morning, hastily written: Meet me by the side of the building at noon. He had been early, nervously checking his watch. And then, she appeared – in that short skirt and the blue top he loved. He smiled when their eyes met. I thought you were an angel. He remembered telling her, and she laughed, shaking her head like she didn’t believe it.
In the background, Delilah’s voice crooned on with another caller.
Tomas reached across the seat console and intertwined his fingers with hers.
The kitchen was like an ornate altar the day they got engaged: every piece was carefully placed to recreate a ritual. Her mother had gone all out: a white embroidered tablecloth, a bottle of Martini & Rossi, delicate long-stemmed crystal champagne glasses. An Italian liquor-filled cake held the centre of the table, its rich scent filling the air. But this only added to the nerves twisting in Eleanor’s stomach. She had always hated the taste of that cake. Everyone knew that. She felt like a plastic bride doll on display. Waiting.
She smoothed the hem of her dress, stealing quick glances at her parents. Her father was stone-faced as usual, and her mother… her mother was trying too hard to look pleasant, watching the clock, her eyes glancing at the door every few seconds.
Like a gatekeeper smiling smugly, her brother was lounging by the kitchen doorway. Eleanor wanted to dissolve into the background. But it was too late for that. The doorbell rang, and the tension in the air grew.
When Tomas walked in, everyone in the kitchen went silent. His eyes were determined. He looked around the room and forced a smile. Eleanor’s face burned with embarrassment, her heart thudding against her ribcage.
“Well, well,” her brother said, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Look who’s here.”
Eleanor bit her lip, hoping he wouldn’t start something. But, of course, he did.
“You know, Tom,” he said, mischievously, “you’ve got to get past me before you can get to her.” He stood up, projecting himself over Tomas. “Ask for my permission if you plan on marrying my sister.”
Eleanor’s heart dropped, her fingers curled into fists. She looked at her mother, who just smiled awkwardly, not quite in on the joke. Her father remained silent as if he wasn’t there.
But Tomas didn’t flinch. He never looked away from her brother. He paused for a moment, then, to everyone’s surprise, he gave a low bow. The sarcasm was unmistakable. “Anything for your approval,” he said, his voice smooth but edged with defiance.
Eleanor held her breath, petrified and amazed at the same time. Her brother’s grin faltered slightly, but he let Tomas pass, whacking him hard on the shoulder as he went toward her. Her parents pretended not to notice the tension and urged everyone to sit down and have some cake. Even after all these years, every time she remembers that day, Eleanor relives the intensity of it all.
She remembered silently slipping out the back door, her emotions bottled up. “Our so-called engagement celebration,” Eleonor said out loud. “What a fiasco.”
Tomas’ grip on the steering wheel tightened. He knew that Eleonor was rewinding every detail of that day as she had done many times.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. He wiped the nape of his neck and let out a deep, long breath. “You were going through a lot that day. It was what it was, back then. And that’s how they were. I’m sorry.”
“Why did my parents allow all that?” Eleanor’s voice trembled. She bit her bottom lip trying to control her emotions.
Tomas had difficulty comprehending as well, but he also knew how it was in those traditional and strict times. He wished he could erase that memory too.
What should have been a happy day had felt like a transaction to Eleonor. She had had no say. Would it have been better to remain trapped in her childhood home where she was oppressed? She had chosen to get married at eighteen with the first guy who had paid attention to her. She had believed him when he said he loved her.
“I wished we could’ve waited a year or two before marrying,” Eleanor shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Tom. I thought I had no options. I had no say. My voice didn’t count.”
Tom reached over and squeezed her hand, gently. “But you said yes to me, to us,” he said softly. “And you know I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you and every day since.”
Eleanor turned to look at him, her eyes filled with tears. “I said yes because I saw a good and loving man willing to share his life with me. A chance for something better. And you gave me that. You gave me a life where I wasn’t invisible anymore. You wanted me.”
Tomas’ eyes softened, and he brought her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “I’m glad you took that chance,” he said. “I know it wasn’t easy, but I hope I’ve made you happy.”
The radio played “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper. Eleanor smiled through her tears. “You have,” she said. “I wouldn’t change anything. I found happiness with you.”
They drove without speaking for a long while, the music from the radio filling the space between them. The road stretched out before them, a symbol of the journey they had taken together, with all its twists and turns, highs and lows. Eleanor’s mind wandered back to the early days of their marriage, how they learned to be with each other, how they encouraged each other’s dreams with appetite and hope. She had always wanted to continue her education, although they were raising a family. One night, she had hesitantly shared this with Tomas.
“I want to go back to school,” she had said quietly, unsure of how he’d react.
Tomas had looked at her, no hesitation in his voice. “Then we’ll make it happen.”
It hadn’t been easy. They had to juggle finances and responsibilities. Some months they just scraped by. There were late-night study sessions for her and extra shifts for him, but they made it work. Tomas had always supported her, pushing her forward when doubt crept in.
“You’ve got this, Ele,” he’d say when she felt overwhelmed. “You’re going to make a great teacher.”
Eventually, she did. Eleanor became a teacher, finding joy and fulfillment in her career. It wasn’t just about financial independence; it was about having something that was hers, something no one could ever take away.
She glanced at Tomas now, driving with that familiar determined expression on his face. “You know, I never could’ve done any of it without you,” she said softly.
“You did all the hard work, Ele,” he smiled. “I just cheered you on.”
She reached for his hand, squeezing it. “It was everything. You were everything.”
Tomas’ grip tightened on hers, a silent acknowledgment of the partnership they had built.
Eleanor thought about the young man who had called into the radio show, and she hoped his proposal would bring him and his girlfriend the same kind of love and companionship she had found with Tomas. She leaned back in her seat, feeling a sense of peace. The past was behind them, and the future was something they would continue to face together.
Delilah’s voice came back on the air to announce another dedication. Soft music played in the background. Eleanor squeezed Tom’s hand again. “Here’s to the next fifty years,” she said softly.
Tomas smiled as he glanced at her. “Here’s to us,” he replied.
“I’m glad we did it together,” she said. She could see a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Me too,” he replied. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
Eleanor nodded. “We have. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Anna Mercuri Maiolo is a retired college professor of English Literature and ESL. Her story “An Apple a Day” appeared in Accenti Magazine and was presented at AccentiFest at UNICAL in 2023. Her story “Moving Heaven and Earth” will be published in the AICW 40th Anniversary Anthology in 2026. Anna lives in Montreal with her husband.
