Resolution

Clearing our heads and resolving to formulate some resolutions that we might be able to keep past next Tuesday, we sipped hot sweet tea bought from the seafront kiosk. A New Year’s Day walk along the North Bay. Snow had fallen overnight and the waves of the morning tide were eating away at it where it lay on the sand. Family dogs, familiar with the beach raced away and then turned to admire the line of paw prints back to their humans. They didn’t understand that it was the morning after the year before.

She said, “Well, that's Christmas out of the way.”
And I said, “Survived, liver and sanity intact.”
She said, “Our second Christmas together.”
I said, “How time flies.”
And she replied, “So, are you going to make an honest woman of me?”

I stared out at the white capped waves. She pulled her scarf tighter waiting for my reply. I avoided her eye contact and tried to think about how hard the winter had been so far.

“It's a big step, rings and...”
“When have I ever looked in a jeweller’s window? Don't worry I don't have my eye on some huge rock. I'm not about to turn into some fiancée-zilla.”

This from the girl who silently crossed herself every time she passed a church. She had never mentioned anything, but I had a feeling that she was the sort who started planning her perfect white wedding soon after confirmation.

“So what's this about? Why now?”
“Why not now? A girl needs to know where she stands after a year and a bit of dating.”

We had met at a pretty tame Halloween party, invited by mutual friends from university that we were both failing to keep in contact with. There was more talking than drinking going on. Chat amongst the in-crowd girls about wedding plans and ambitious guys discussing cars with more than two doors. A change from the parties of five years before that were rowdy affairs continuing until the booze ran out or the sun came up. This was civilised by comparison. We had chatted on the stairs for most of the evening and left together in a taxi. Her pointy hat scraping against its roof, me careful not to trap my cape in the door.

It didn’t seem that long to me, maybe it’s like dog years for her, a different understanding of time. I worked it out in my head, four birthdays, two Christmases, one Valentine’s Day and numerous romantic breaks that were talked about but never happened. Except for now, our second New Year together.

“This is so different from last New Year’s Day.” I said, changing the subject.
“That was our two month anniversary; we spent it in bed.”
“It feels like we spent most of our time back then, either in your bed or mine.”
“Back when you washed your bed linen every time I came to visit.” She reminded me.
“I've never done so much laundry.”
“But it's still either your bed or mine. Do we actually own anything? Can you think of anything that's ours.”

She was right, of course. Not a single joint purchase in fourteen months, over and above splitting a restaurant bill. She claimed that it was bad for a girl’s reputation to arrive at the office from a different direction each day. Whilst I was sure the gossipy women had juicier things to talk about, I could see she had a point. We lived in different parts of the city, in the sort of small spaces that single people rent. I recently suffered the indignity of accusing the dry cleaner of losing my suit, only to find it hanging in her wardrobe.

I swallowed hard on tepid liquid from the Styrofoam cup.

“Maybe we should go to the bank.” I said, after quietly thinking about it for thirty seconds.
“They’re closed today.”
“When we get back, I mean. Ask the question, in theory anyway, how much of a mortgage we could raise.”

We were both shocked by what I had said. We were doing just fine, apart from the wardrobe misplacements. A man likes to have his own space, even though she has a set of keys. She has her bedroom, shades of pink that I need a break from sometimes, her books and all her family photographs. I shudder at the thought of all those faces stepping out of the pictures in their Sunday best, waiting for me to say “I do”.

Now, it’s just us, alone on a snowy beach, drinking tea. Perfect.

“That almost sounded like a new year’s resolution.” She said.
“No, it’s just a question that ought to be asked.”
“There’s another question that needs to be asked, don’t you think?”

I really thought that I had managed to change the subject. She tolerated my evasion, but time was running out. I could see that the summer ahead would be filled with wedding invitations. The ante would be upped. The early onset of seating plan obsessions, this aunt wasn’t speaking to that uncle; the charm offensive to defuse disappointed distant cousins. Her family was a tribe; mine just a few sweet people in a far away town.

“Maybe we should move in together. Rent somewhere, give it a try.”
“How would you cope with sleeping in the same bed every night?”  She mocked, punishing me for moving off the topic of the day again.
“I’ll cope, but your teddy bears will have to find a new home.”

She gave me one of her smiles that looked like she had an itchy nose and slipped her hand into mine. I thought about her question, the great big church and state of our future question.

“Yes, not right now, but eventually.” But the words stayed inside my head.