Last Saturday morning, I was awoken as my boyfriend leaned his face to my ear, and started to whisper about “the treasure that you seek” and a journey I must set out on “before the rising of the dawn.” I groaned and opened one eye to look up at him, and it looked like he was wearing a backpack, and ready to go hiking….what on earth? He took off running down the hall, and I call after him “It’s too early for treasure!!” But he was already out the door. I was thinking to myself that he’s planned some type of hiking/picnic adventure, and I have to play some game to go find him. Ughhh but it’s so EARLY. Why couldn’t he have waited till like 10am at least? I briefly considered going back to sleep, and then remind myself that if he’s put a lot of effort into this and planned something special, I better not ruin the moment….so I drag myself out of bed.
I made my way to the bathroom, opened the door, and spot a
GoPro camera suction-cupped to the mirror pointing RIGHT AT ME. GAH! I’m not even dressed!!! I slammed the door back shut and searched for a robe to cover myself with. Once I was decent, I returned to the bathroom, and this time notice there is an envelope with a tinkerbell logo and “Clue #1” printed on it. Guess I was right about this being a game! I open it up, and read the clue. It was clever, and I don’t remember how it was worded, but it basically told me to go to Star Bucks. It also warned me to worry about “looking good” later, not to take too long, and to just go! I made a sarcastic remark to the camera filming me, something to the affect that I wake up looking good anyway, brush my teeth, throw on some sweats, and head out the door. As I’m passing his parents’ room, I hear his mother calling his name. “He left!” I call to her. “I heard someone running down the hall!!” she exclaims, “is everything ok??” “That was your son,” I tell her, “he’s just being weird.” I poke my head in to reassure his parents, who have confused, tired looks on their faces. I briefly summarize the “treasure hunt” I’m being sent on, laugh nervously as I say good bye, and head out to get to
Star Bucks.
I pull up and walk inside. I’m looking around, hoping that there will be a clue taped to the wall, or sitting on the table. Of course there isn’t, which means I’ll have to ask one of the employees for help, and risk looking like a crazy person. Oh well! I muster up the courage and get in line. I briefly think about ordering a vanilla bean scone, and then wonder if maybe Eric has an order waiting for me already. “Can I help you?” the way-too-awake employee asks me brightly. “Um…I’m not sure. I’m on a treasure hunt, and I think you guys might have the next clue for me?” I try to say this as quietly as possible, but still the two people ahead of me in line turn to give me quizzical looks. I ignore them, blushing slightly, and the employee responds, “a treasure hunt?! That sounds amazing!” He pauses and smiles at me, and then continues, “but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” My blush deepens, and I’m thinking oh great, I’m missing something here… The employee asks the 3 other girls working behind the counter if any of them know anything about a treasure hunt, and they all give him blank looks. Finally, one of the girls kind of jumps and says, “oh! I think I know what you’re talking about! Here you go,” she smiles, handing me an envelope that looks like the one that was taped onto my mirror, only a different color. “And these are for her,” she says, handing me a vanilla bean scone, and giving the guy my drink order. I sigh with relief, and wait for him to hand me my drink as I read the next clue. Again, it’s clever, and again I don’t remember the specifics, but I know that I needed to look in my glove compartment for clue number three! The guy hands me my drink and asks with a great big grin, “Is this something your boyfriend put together?” “yes,” I blush again. “He better get big brownie points for this one!” he continues. “Oh trust me, he will!” I respond. “Good, have fun with your treasure hunt!!” he calls after me as I turn to leave.
I get into my car, open the glove box, and of course there is another envelope in a third color waiting for me. Once again I read the riddle inside, telling me to pack something nice to wear, and something to keep warm. There is also an Amtrak ticket for a one-way train ride to San Diego, and information about a black sedan that will be picking me up when I arrive! San Diego?? No wonder he ran out the door so fast! He had to get there before me to set up whatever it is he has planned for me. I’m slightly bummed at the prospect of taking the train all the way there by myself, but know after texting my family and closest friends about this odd journey I’ve been sent on this morning, that I’ll be busy filling everyone in on the details, and speculating what the surprise could be, all the way there. My mother has already mentioned the word “proposal,” and I’m trying not to get my hopes up….but she tells me that Eric hasn’t asked my father for permission yet, which makes me think that this must be something else. Maybe he’s gotten tickets to an event happening this weekend, and it’s an early Chrsitmas present? The anticipation is killing me! I hurry home to pack and get ready, and to fill his parents in on the latest development.
Once I have a bag packed, and I’ve snagged the GoPro off the mirror to take with me on my “adventure,” I head out to load up my car. His parents graciously offer to drop me off at the train station, and I accept. I’m too nervous about everything to want to deal with figuring out how to get there, and finding parking! I’ve updated my Facebook to share my adventure with my friends, and my phone is now buzzing with frequent comment and “like” updates. I don’t feel so alone on this journey anymore, with my friends virtually sharing the excitement with me :) Once I settle into my seat to wait at the station, I get a call from a long-time childhood friend and former coworker, who used to sit and daydream with me about future wedding plans when she got engaged just a couple years earlier, and who tolerated my silly wedding fantasies when Eric and I had first started dating. I had known from the very beginning that he was “the one,” and enjoyed confiding in her about it without feeling too crazy, since she still had that romantic wedding “high” of a recent bride. So she was the perfect person to gossip with at this very moment….we speculated about it being a proposal, but were careful not to get too carried away. “Remember all the times I thought Jacob was about to propose?” she warned me. “He’d take me on some romantic date, or surprise me with dinner, and I’d get my hopes up, and then get all upset when it didn’t happen!” I remember going through that whole phase with her. The “when is he going to ask me already” phase. And though I tried to tell myself this adventure was probably just part of an early Christmas present, my subconscious stuck out her tongue in defiance, stubbornly refusing to believe that there wasn’t a big, fat diamond waiting for her in San Diego! She’s quite the spoiled brat sometimes. We continue catching up with each other, until the station announces that my train has arrived. I promise to call her back, and head out for the big All Aboard!
The train comes breezing up the tracks, and I climb on. I’ve never ridden a train on my own, and I’m a bit nervous about figuring out which way to go, where to sit, and where to get food (by this time my stomach is growling in protest…that scone was good, but it just wasn’t enough!) I settle into an empty window seat, and before I can call my friend back, my little brother calls. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about….random things like an upcoming trip to Disneyland, the band we’ve been working on forming together, and a little about the adventure I’m on. We’re frequently interrupted by announcements of the stops the train is passing through, and soon my phone start’s beeping at me that my battery has had enough abuse, thank you very much, and will be dying soon. I end the conversation, and dig through my bag for a charger, messaging a quick apology to my friend for not calling her back, and promising her (and a handful of others) that they will receive more updates soon! I scan the menu and information cards in the back of the chair in front of me for some sort of clue about where I can get food. I quickly deduce that this is nothing like an airplane, and there won’t be a stewardess stopping by and handing out complimentary food and beverage. As outgoing as most people believe me to be, I do suffer from slight social anxiety, and stress out a bit at the thought of having to ask a train employee for help in finding food…so I attempt to figure it out myself. Success! There is a sign on the wall not far from my seat that lets me know the dining cart is just down the stairs. Like the worry-wart I am, I briefly hope that no one steals anything from my luggage in the overhead compartment or sits in my seat while I’m gone, and I head down to find me some grub. There is a couple having some beers at a table, and other than that there is just the Asian gentlemen working inside the tiny café. I select a turkey sandwich and a canned soda, pay too much for them both, and head back up to my untouched and patiently-waiting seat and luggage. I’m beginning to feel a bit motion-sick due to riding backward, and I only finish half my sandwich. I turn myself sideways (a trick I learned from a back-wards riding train passenger from my recent trip to Machu Picchu) and try to get some sleep.
Unfortunately, a large group of boy scouts and their leaders had boarded the train at the last stop, and were determined to do whatever they could to keep me from sleeping. I’ve never heard a group of people who could talk longer and louder with absolutely nothing significant to say, but who felt it important to make sure everyone on the train could hear each and every word. :) Eventually they announced that we were approaching the Solana Beach stop, and I was thankful that we were finally just one more stop away fr….BAM! I jolted upright feeling the train bounce HARD as several passengers gasped and the train barreled to a screeching halt. There was a smell of smoke, and boy scouts were shouting about “debris” flying by the window, and grabbing their emergency cards, announcing irrelevant instructions in self-important voices. Everyone was asking questions, and answers were floating around the train in fragmented bits and pieces we put together slowly. Something was hit. It was a truck and a car. It was a car being towed by a tow truck. It was only part of the car. It was the tow truck itself. No one was hurt. Someone died. The investigation could leave us trapped on the train for 1-3 hours. Announcements over the intercom were only echoes of information floating around 10 minutes prior, with constant reminders to “stay calm” and “remain seated.” I was definitely not calm, and wanted to do anything but “remain seated.” I was texting my boyfriend that we’d been in a crash. That I wasn’t hurt, but that I could be stuck on the train for hours…only 2 stops away from my final destination. I called him several times, and got no answer. What if he was hiking somewhere with no reception? What if he didn’t have his phone on him? He would have no way of knowing that I had never arrived to be picked up by the “black sedan” and whisked away to the next destination. I was panicking, certain that if I didn’t get off that train, there was some deadline I was going to miss, and all his planning would have been ruined. Eric’s mother was calling Amtrak every 15 minutes trying to get updates, and the information they finally provided her with was even less information than what I gathered from the crackling voices on the passing train-personnel’s walky-talkies. I called Eric again. “Hello?” a not-Eric said on the other end… “Um. Is this Eric?” I asked, uncertain. “Can you get off the train?” the voice non-answered. “No…some people ran out the emergency exit, but they’re blocking it now, and saying anyone who tries to leave will be charged with interfering with an investigation.” “Get off the train as soon as you can,” the voice said, unhelpfully. “Ok…I will let you guys know what I find out, but no one is giving me much information. Is this…Brett?” No answer from the voice. “I think this is Brett,” I said, sure it sounded like Eric’s best friend, who lives in San Diego. “Just get off the train” the voice said once more. And the conversation was over. Great. I have no idea if whoever it was is in touch with Eric, or knows where he is, or can tell him what’s happened. I’m completely helpless! An entire hour goes by, and the final word is that
we’ve struck a tow truck, and the driver was killed. I get the chills as I realize the enormity of what has just happened. There is brake fluid all over the outside of the train, or maybe it’s downstairs in one of the cars. The information is fuzzy. The woman in front of me has a paramedic helping her, and I roll my eyes. The impact was NOT that bad, and for a long while after, she had sat there just fine, talking excitedly with everyone else. There’s not a single scratch on her, and I hadn’t seen her so much as scoot an inch on her seat when they impact occurred. I suspect she’s just trying to get off the train faster than anyone else, and I’m briefly jealous that I didn’t pretend to faint, just to get off as well. But then they’re making her sign all this paperwork, and talking about which hospital to send her to, and I’m realizing she’s just made it probably 5 times as long for herself to get home. Finally the train begins to move forward, and in 10 minutes we’ve arrived at the Solana Beach station.
Here is where things get incredibly stupid. A voice on the train tells anyone going on to San Diego to stay on the train, and that there will be a head count to see how many busses for them to order to take us the rest of the way. Most everyone gets up to leave, determined to find their own way. I text the mystery person who has Eric’s phone, asking if I should try to split a cab with some of these strangers. Too late. He responds after most of them have left. I wait patiently on the train for the head count that never comes. I can hear a Charlie-brown-adult voice wah-wah’ing outside over the station intercom, and I ask the only other person left in my car, an employee with his eyes shut and a pained look on his face, if I need to be concerned over what the voice is announcing? He shakes his head “no” without opening his eyes. Ok….whatever. I set there for 5 more minutes, and I can’t take it anymore. I step off the now ghost-train and finally can hear the voice clearly announcing for those waiting to go north not to get on the train, as there has been some sort of accident. I have no idea what happened to the head count, and how long it will take for these mystery busses to get here, so I head into the station to get a better idea of what is going on. One of the cub scout den mothers is pestering the only employee at the window for information, and the employee actually has no idea about the wreck, or all of us waiting outside, or whether there are busses or a train coming for us. She’s flustered and annoyed, and makes a few calls, and looks at a paper schedule. She tells us the next train is arriving in an hour, and that there will not be busses. Gee, thanks for updating the people waiting inside the train for a head count. I text my mystery coordinator who tells me not to worry about waiting for that train; a car is coming for me. I sit on the curb outside to wait, and the den mother steps outside, telling the boys about a train coming in 30 minutes. “Wait,” I ask her, “didn’t they say it wouldn’t be here for an hour?” “Yes,” she rolls her eyes, “but now they suddenly remembered another one that is coming earlier. The details keep changing.” Wow, this place is a disorganized mess. I text my mystery friend asking if I should just take the train arriving in 30 min, and he tells me not to worry about it. The car is already on its way. I spend the next 20 minutes freezing on the curb, asking every mysterious-looking car that arrives to the pick-up area if they are there for Valerie? Nope, sorry, they all say guiltily. I look for answers via text from my mystery friend, who tells me the car is still on its way, and not to worry because “he knows who to look for.” I decide to wait inside the station where it’s warmer, and keep an eye out the window. Once inside, I see a very angry group of people trying not to shout as they explain to the poor lady in the window that “someone” told them to “line up on the other side of the street” and wait for busses that would be picking them up. Busses that I had already learned almost an hour ago were no longer coming. Oops. The flustered woman searched for train schedules to put these poor people on, and I shook my head in disbelief at how disorganized this company’s communication is. No wonder no one was able to get the message across in time that there was a tow-truck on the tracks. This company is a mess.
I started to get nervous that I wouldn't see my ride arrive through the darkening windows, so I headed outside to brave the cold, and sat on the curb. Cars come and go without so much as pausing to look me over. And then, suddenly I see it. The "Golden Biscuit." The infamous golden ford escort that my Boyfriend sold to his best friend about three years back. It's a wonder this thing is still even running, but it just refuses to die! Brett steps out, smiling kindly. "Brett to the rescue! I sang out, so glad to see a familiar face after such a long day. He hugged me quickly, announcing apologetically that he needed to use the restroom, and rushing off to the station as he called over his shoulder that the car (still running) was unlocked. I climbed inside and waited for his return, and we were off again. We spent the ride catching up with each other, and Brett remained tight-lipped about any of the plans ahead, whether or not I'd missed any plans due to the train wreck, and whether or not he had been the one on the phone earlier. I could see I wasn't going to get any information out of him, and stared out my window at the lights of the city wondering where my boyfriend would be waiting for me.
Finally we pulled up to the breathtaking
Hilton Bayside, and Brett bid me farewell as I unloaded into the lobby. A giant Christmas Tree greeted me as I entered through the lobby doors, fake presents stacked high, and a train circling it's way around the base. I headed to the check-in desk and after giving her my name, the woman smiled, told me "Mr. Quevedo" had already checked in, and gave me my key to our room on the 27th floor. I gathered my things once again, and headed for a set of elevators. I wondered if Eric would be waiting for me in the room, and the elevator ride seemed to take forever as several hotel patrons entered and exited the elevator one floor at a time. Finally at my floor, I shuffled around the hall, luggage in hand, in search of my room. At the end of the hallway, I stopped in front of a door with music softly playing from the other side. My stomach exploded with excited little butterflies, and I knocked in anticipation. No one answered. Hmmm. I knocked again, harder, and waited briefly before opening the door. A dreamy violin-filled version of "
A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes"poured softly through the room with a bay-window view of the ocean. I hurried over to the laptop with the music on repeat, wondering if there would be a slideshow, or some type of hint waiting for me on the screen. No clues there! Rose petals led to the bed, a princess and Tinkerbell-themed basket waiting on top of the duvet. Inside were a few snacks, and of course my 4th clue. I opened it, and sighed with relief as I realized I hadn't missed any plans during my long wait on the train. The final clue invited me to relax and pamper myself, and to enjoy the spoils of my luxurious room, and instructed me to be ready for the "Prince's Men" to pick me up downstairs at 8:30pm. Plenty of time for even my high-maintenance self to get dolled up!
I made my way to the bathroom, and opened the door to see the flickering of candle lights waiting for my arrival. A basket full of girly bath and spa items was placed on the counter, a welcome sight after the long events of the day! I plugged my phone into a set of speakers, turned Pandora to the "
Sarah McLachlin" station, and washed away the tension as I relaxed and primped for my mysterious night out. As the time neared for me to be ready, the butterflies that had been napping lazily began to flutter anxiously again inside my stomach. I finished my hair with one last spritz, slipped into my deep purple and silver mini bubble dress, tying the black sash behind my back into a neat bow, and topping the outfit off with my knee-high black slouch boots. Yep, I looked good. And I couldn't wait to show myself off to my romantic, hopefully soon-to-be fiancé.
I headed down to the hotel lobby to wait, texting Brett for updates as instructed. Minutes that felt like hours passed as slowly as I could bare, and I played with my phone constantly, checking to see if the time had changed since the last 20 seconds that I'd checked it. Finally Brett messaged me to let me know a black town car would be arriving shortly, and to head outside. I gathered my sequin clutch, and headed into the cold, a black shawl wrapped around my shoulders. After a few more agonizing minutes, a black car pulled up to the curb, rolled down the window, and a man asked, "Valerie?" "Yep!" I smiled, pulling open the back door and slipping inside. I made small talk with the driver, who informed me he'd be taking me to a nice restaurant in the Gas Lamp District. Fancy! We pulled up to a restaurant called
Ostera, and I thanked the driver for the ride, and stepped out onto the curb. A friendly hostess smiled even broader as I gave her my name, and ushered me inside, directing me to have a seat at the bar. A band was setting up in the corner, but my sneaky boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. I set the GoPro I'd brought with me on the counter, and pressed the button to begin recording...just in case! The waitresses were acting not-so-subtle, whispering urgently that it was "time to start!", and glancing at me with giddy smiles. One shoved a cocktail menu in my face, trying to distract me until whatever it was "time for" was ready. And then I heard a familiar tune begin to play over the band's speaker system. It was an instrumental orchestra rendition of "
Some Day My Prince Will Come," and I knew immediately that this had Eric written all over it. I glanced around for him expectantly, but he was nowhere in sight. Suddenly his voice began to speak over the sound system. Eric stepped out of the kitchen holding a wireless mic, and looked every bit the part of a Prince Charming with his freshly cut and styled hair, dark suit jacket, and designer jeans. He announced to everyone that he had sent his girlfriend on a journey this morning, leading ultimately to where we were right now. He briefly described my setback with the train, and added that he was relieved that I wasn't hurt. He told me that I had made his life an adventure, and that he wanted to spend the rest of our lives in an adventure together. He got down on one knee, and I began to cry softly as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a tiny box. I noticed then from the corner of my eye that his friend Brett was discreetly filming us from the other side of the room. Those sneaky boys! Eric fumbled to get it open with one hand, as he asked me to marry him. My answer in the affirmative set the restaurant patrons cheering, and Eric smiled as he slipped a gorgeous, sparkling ring onto my finger, officially proclaiming me his princess. I immediately pull the ring up to my face for a closer inspection, and it's beautiful. It's SO me, accented perfectly with fairy wings and pink sapphires I love it, and I love him. After we finished embracing each other with kisses filled with excitement and love, the bartender handed us two glasses of champagne, and the band dedicated their first song to us with congratulations. We danced briefly, reveling in the moment, and then the waitress escorted us to our seats, where we insisted Brett join us for dinner. The manager brought out a rose for me as an unexpected surprise to top off the events of the evening.
The rest of the night was spent with the warmth of love and laughter, and will forever be a fondly-remembered part of how we began our "Happily Ever After."
