Cracker Jack Proposal
By Suzanne Baginskie (True Romance, February 2010)
During my senior year of high school, I rode a public bus each day to the girl’s Voc Tech. My friend, Betty, who attended St. Mary’s High School, always saved me a seat. She liked a student from another high school—he boarded the bus six blocks after me. He always stood near us, holding a ceiling strap. Every time the bus slowed or stopped, he’d sway in the crowded quarters.
Betty had confided in me about her crush on him. So when I rose for my school’s stop, I’d motion for him to take my seat. He never refused. Her dark eyes would brighten, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word. Each morning I’d encourage her, but on the return trip she made excuses for not speaking to him. So he never knew.
On Friday nights, my parents would allow me to attend the local church dances for teens because the nuns supervised them. Betty always met me there. One evening, we were standing at the edge of the dance floor when he sauntered in. Betty blushed and giggled, telling me all the ways she’d feel if he asked her to dance.
He surveyed the crowd and then strolled in our direction.
“Hey, I’m Alex. Thanks for giving me your seat everyday.” His emerald green eyes sparkled and studied my face. I’d never noticed them before.
“You’re welcome. I’m Suzanne, and this is Betty.” She smiled widely at him, but he continued to eye me. His good looks made me melt on the inside.
“Hi,” he mumbled to her. In the background, a popular song began to play.
“Suzanne, would you like to dance?” Shocked, I hesitated. Biting my lower lip, I searched Betty’s face. She nodded, indicating I should.
“Okay.” I followed him onto the dance floor. Betty’s smile turned into a frown. She rushed off toward the restroom. My stomach lurched.
Alex grabbed my hand, sending waves of electric current tingling under my skin. He pulled me close and my cheeks burned. I’d never really paid much attention to him on the bus. He was Betty’s crush—not mine. Now my heart was singing inside me, and I felt an instant attraction.
A couple of months later, he asked me to go steady. I proudly wore his black onyx initial ring, but lost Betty as a friend. I didn’t mean to hurt her. She wouldn’t accept my apology, and I couldn’t blame her—she deserved a better friend. I knew it was rotten of me, and a part of me regretted ever accepting that first dance with him. I wished I had thought quickly and cited that something was in my eye, requiring me to take a zippy look in the restroom, and suggest that Betty dance in my place until I came back. Then it would be up to her. But at the same time, I did encourage her many times to make a move. Plus, he made me feel like I was on cloud nine.
Our dates consisted of weekly dances and Saturday night movies at the drive-in theater. On our first date I discovered that we both loved French fries and Cracker Jacks. He was amused at how eagerly I would search for the elusive prize in each box. We’d both stick our hands in and share the caramel-coated popcorn and peanut mix, but he’d always let me find the prize. Alex laughed each time I located the tiny sealed envelope and squealed in delight. I’d tear it open and add the prize to my treasured collection.
After graduation, I found a job and he joined the Army. The Vietnam War was a hot topic, and his dad had been a career Navy man. It broke my heart, but I kissed him goodbye, promised to wait, and began writing letters daily. When he completed eight weeks of basic training, his parents drove me out there to see him. Alex told me he was scheduled for paratrooper training, and then he was going to Vietnam. I smiled while wiping away my tears. One month later, he came home on a three-day pass.
Alex picked me up, and like old times, we went to the drive-in theater. He even brought along a box of Cracker Jacks. As we watched the movie and chatted, we both munched. As usual, I checked now and then for the prize. The box was half empty and I remarked, “I don’t think this one has a prize.” Alex grabbed the box and opened the car door. The inside light blared and he dumped each remaining Cracker Jack, one by one, onto the ground.
“Alex, it’s not that important. Close the door, I’m freezing.” Frantically he looked at me, then the box, then back at me as he continued to empty it.
Pretty soon he said, “Check again. The prize is at the bottom.” I saw a silly grin spread across his face. He handed me the box. I reached inside, and my fingers hit something. I squealed.
“I found it, but it’s not wrapped,” I said. In the dark interior of the car, I lifted out a sticky ring of some sort. It didn’t feel like a toy. I held it up to catch the light from the movie. It was a diamond ring! “What’s this?” I asked. My face warmed, and I realized why he had dug so frantically inside the box.
“Suzanne, I can’t get down on my knees in this car, but. . .will you marry me?”
I laughed and said yes. Now, forty-four years later, I’ll never forget his Cracker Jack proposal or inserted prize. Cracker Jack has been in business for over one hundred years. Alex and I still share them and our love for each other, and he still continues to let me find the prize.
Suzanne, that’s a delightful story. Carl and I have a story too. I’ll e-mail it to you.
Dahris
What a sweet story!
What a precious story! Written with your genuine talent for telling one. Thanks for sharing with us.
Thanks everyone for the comments, the old adage write what you know is the best.
This is a great story about my parents that I never heard until now. I can only hope that someday I will find the same love that they have found in each other. I love them both very much and always will.