As it turns out, Australia is a damn hard country to immigrate to.
Caden and I had ice cream in Melbourne two weeks after my life changed on my parents’ front yard. In those two weeks, I taught Tanner everything there was to know about owning a dog. I also, I will admit, cried a few times into my pillow of a night, knowing I was going to miss Doofus a lot.
Oh, who was I kidding? I was going to miss my family a lot as well.
Two weeks after asking Caden to buy me ice cream in Melbourne, he did.
And three months after that, at the end of my initial tourist visa, it was time for me to get on a plane and head back to the US.
Caden took me to the airport, along with the dog we’d picked out together at Melbourne’s biggest RSPCA center: a large dog of “dubious origins” – as Caden put it – that we named Fluffy, on account of the fact he had the shortest, slickest fur I’d ever seen on a dog. Of course, Fluffy wasn’t allowed in Melbourne International terminal, so we said our goodbyes on the sidewalk. There were no tears. After all, I was returning as soon as my student visa was approved.
This trip to San Diego was mainly about seeing Mom and Dad, and Amanda and Brendon and Tanner and Doofus. I’d missed them all. Three months without hugging my nephew was three months too long.
Yeah, three months without hugging my sister was pretty tough as well.
My plan was to spend the interim time with my family in the States, overdose on Tanner and Doofus as much as I could, and then fly back Down Under. During that time, my student visa was scheduled for approval. Yay for USA–Australia political relations.
As soon as I got back to Melbourne, I was starting my first year of a Bachelor of Fine Arts at Melbourne University. Or Melb’n Uni, as Caden – and just about every other Australian I’d spoken to – called it. Seriously, living in the country and being surrounded by people with Australian accents? Even with my hearing, it was heaven.
“Okay,” I said, adjusting my on-flight bag on my shoulder and scuffing Fluffy under his chin. His tail wagged faster. “I better get going.” I reached up on tiptoe and snatched a quick kiss from Caden. “See you in a month.”
As I was turning away, he snared my wrist in a loose grip and flicked my ear.
I stopped, giving him a grin. “You want me to miss my flight?”
He smiled, moving his hand from my wrist to my fingers. “Before you go …”
He looked at Fluffy, clicked the fingers in front of Fluffy’s muzzle and made a curious gesture I’d never seen him make before.
Tail wagging, ears pricked, tongue lolling from his mouth in an adorable doggy-grin, Fluffy went back on his haunches and assumed the “beg” position– an incredible feat for a dog Fluffy’s size. It was wobbly and a tad unstable but incredible all the same.
I couldn’t help but let out a delighted gasp.
And then my gasp turned to stunned silence as Caden lowered down on one knee beside Fluffy and looked up at me.
I could see people around us pause, stopping to observe what was about to happen.
Holy shit, was what was about to happen, really about to happen?
Holding my gaze, a playful smile on his lips, Caden reached behind his back and withdrew something from under his shirt.
I stared at it. I forgot how to breathe.
A sock puppet Caden. A sock puppet Caden looked up at me. There was no other possibility of it being anything else: the choppy yellow wool hair, the short yellow wool beard, the blue button eyes, the rugby jersey … If Caden was a sock puppet, the sock puppet on his hand right now was what he’d look like.
“Chase Sinclair,” he said, opening the sock puppet’s “mouth” to reveal a very simple, very exquisite, very sparkly diamond ring. “Will you marry us? Me and Fluffy?”
Even to my ears, the world grew quiet. Paused, hovering on the brink of monumental change …
Heart thumping in my ears, deafening me (ha ha, get it?) I raised my eyes to his and signed, Hell yeah.
His ecstatic whoop of delight told those around us what I’d said. That, and the fact he leaped to his feet and swooped me up in a hug, Fluffy barking around our legs.
When he finally put me down, he grinned at me.
I grinned back and held out my hand.
Have you ever had an engagement ring slid onto your finger by the cotton lips of a sock puppet? No? Trust me, it is the best thing ever.
“Now,” he said, when our eyes connected again, “get your arse outta here. You’ll miss your flight.”
I grabbed him, hugged him, kissed him, and then did the same to Fluffy.
Around us, people applauded and smiled at us. Two young people in love. How could they not?
“Go,” he laughed, even as he drew me back to his body. “You’re stressing out our mutt.”
I chuckled, and snagged a gentle grip of his beard, pulling his face down to mine for a quick, naughty kiss. “Bite me, Caden O’Dae.”
“When you get back,” he answered, squeezing my butt. “When you get back.”
Suffice to say, I spent most of the flight admiring my new bling. Every time I looked at my hand, at the engagement ring on my finger, an excited, warm, blissfully happy thrill swept through me.
I could quite cheerfully experience that buzz for many, many months.
And one day in the near future, after my student visa was finished, and the Australian government believed we really were legitimately, madly in love, we’d be ready for my next visa: the Oh-my-God-I’ve-married-an-Aussie visa.
That one … yeah, that one was damn exciting.
Not too bad for a defective American, right?
Go me.