5. Mr. Wonderful
My husband, Tim, is a gentleman, in every sense of the word — but do not confuse his kind ways and soft heart with the idea that he is a weak man. Tim’s strength is quiet and it is at the ready when it is needed most.
First, a little background on Mr. and Mrs. O’Brien. Tim and I first met in high school, though we never really traveled in the same group of friends. We got somewhat close in our senior year when he asked me, cajoled me, and ultimately convinced me to run for Senior Class Vice President. As soon as I said ‘yes’ he put me front and center and did all of the behind the scenes work to get me elected; he talked up my intelligence, and my popularity, and my organizational skills — you know, the stuff that mattered in a candidate for such an esteemed position.
On the day of the candidates’ speeches, I took to the stage wearing the shortest dress I had, and sporting long waves in my hair courtesy of a new-fangled thing called a curling iron, and batting eyelashes coated with a couple swipes of mascara. I used my feminine wiles to get the male vote which resulted in a landslide win. (Go ahead and judge me. It was the ‘70s and I was straddling the line between feminism and hot-chick-ism. And on that day, I clearly succumbed to the power of curves in all the right places, and legs to die for.)
Years later, at our ten-year reunion, I saw Tim for the first time since graduation. He was recently back from Texas and he was all Yee-Haw grown up and hot and sexy in his Wranglers and white button-down shirt with the sleeves cuffed back to his elbows, standing lean-to against a wall holding a beer. I was lassoed and we started a thing that night — a fling, most people figured. The assumption that our dalliance would be a hit and run experience was perfectly reasonable. Tim and I are polar opposites in so many little ways — I am bawdy and bold, he is a thinker and somewhat reserved; I’m the talker, he uses words sparingly; I’m the yeller, he’s the head-shaker; I’m the comedienne, he’s my audience; I push in, he leans in; I’m the risk taker, he’s the soft place to land.
And thank God he is.
Mr. Wonderful helped me land safely after hearing the news. As we are moving toward the end of our relationship, Mr. Wonderful is showing a whole new kind of strength. He is holding my hand tightly as we march to appointments for this and that — none of which will change anything. He is shouldering my need to talk in the middle of the night. He is wiping away as many tears from his cheeks as I am from my own. He is preparing for the day when he needs to let me go. So, when all is said and done, my gentleman husband will stand tall and show those in his life how truly strong he is.