Vicki stared at me for a few seconds, slowly absorbing what I had just asked of her. Suddenly, her eyes lit up and she began nodding her head excitedly.
"Oh yes, Jack!" she exclaimed. "Oh yes, I'll be your wife! And I'll be the mother of your children too, if you want me to."
"I want you to." I replied. "I think you'd make a wonderful mother. I think you'd look beautiful pregnant too. When you told me the other day when we fucked in the rain that you thought you'd dropped an egg, it got me to thinking. Just now, I realized that I not only want you to have my child, I want you to have all of my children and I want to spend the rest of my life with you as well."
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you too." Vicki sighed, snuggling up against me. "I never thought I'd meet someone like you, much less have the opportunity to be with you forever. All the kids I went to school with should see me right now."
"I'll bet they'd love to see you right now." I replied with a grin.
Vicki smiled back at me. Then, her expression suddenly changed to that of great sadness.
"They used to tease me when I was a little girl." she said, looking off to her right, as though gazing at some distant memory that had magically materialized before her eyes. "They would ask me if I was retarded, or if I'd been hit by a truck, or if Freddy Kruger was my father."
Just as suddenly, her expression changed back to that of happiness.
"Just wait until I show up at my ten year reunion!" she said smugly. "I'll be married to a former TV star, with a houseful of kids, and where will they be? Janie Smith died from a drug overdose last year, and Billy Ericsson shot himself two months after we graduated. All those kids who thought they were so much better than me. I wonder how many of them are drug addicts or alcoholics, or even homeless now?"
I chortled and nodded.
"I went to three different school systems when I was a kid." I responded. "In the first two, I had some issues where I was teased or bullied as well. In the third, I hit it right. That's where I made my best friends, but I was still a bit odd; long haired head banger and all. Imagine the shock at my ten year reunion, when I showed up in a suit and tie, short hair and no glasses. Johnny Handsome for real, I'd become.
"At the twenty year reunion, everyone had seen me on TV and no one could really believe it was really me. I hooked up with kids from all three schools on social media, and here's the part you'll like; some of those kids who once bullied me were asking to be friends."
"Did you accept them?" Vicki asked curiously.
"Of course." I replied. "Years ago, when I got my first book contract, someone told me to never forget who I was or where I came from. I never did. At book signings, I would always talk to someone as long as they wanted to, as long as there wasn't anyone else behind them. When I became an actor, I was always flattered when someone asked for my autograph or asked to have their picture taken with me.
"Sure, maybe some of them were latching onto me because I'd made it big, but that was not for me to judge. They asked to be my friend and I was happy to accept them. I even had some nice IM conversations with some of them. Kids say and do some really hurtful things. They have no idea what they are doing, or how it affects the person they are doing it to. All we can do as adults, is to give them the opportunity to 'make it right.' That can be as simple as accepting their friend request. In the end, don't gloat. Show up at your reunion as a successful person and loving wife; nothing more. Your actions will speak for themselves."
Vicki looked at me intently for several seconds before replying.
"I think I understand you even more now." she said softly. "At first, I thought you were being nice to me just to take advantage of me, but I didn't care. I just wanted someone there to make me feel special.
"But then, I realized you weren't like that. You had plenty of times when you could have used me and left me, but you didn't. And now, you asked me to be your wife. Even I know that is not something you ask someone unless you mean it. It means I'm special. I never thought I would be special to someone, but I'm special to you."
"Yes you are." I responded gently. "You mean the world to me. I know that for most of your life, people were probably being nice to you for other reasons, but I was nice to you because I wanted to be. That's just who I am. That's why I shared my story with you as well."
Vicki nodded.
"I know, and that is why I love you so much and want to be your wife. I promise, I will always love you. I will do anything you want because I love you."
I looked intently at my fiancee and smiled.
"I know that. But I will never pressure you to do something you don't want to do, just because I want it, okay? I might ask, but I won't pressure you if you aren't comfortable with it."
"I'm hungry!" Vicki burst out, suddenly seeming completely oblivious to my response. "I made us lunch."
"Yes you did, Sweetheart." I replied, accepting the change in our conversation. "I'm hungry too. Let's eat then."
Vicki beamed at me and opened up the backpack with our lunches inside. She pulled out several sandwich bags and doled them out. We both ended up with two sandwiches and a Ring-Ding.
"Ham and cheese," she informed me proudly, "on white."
"No mayo, right?" I inquired.
"Of course not!" she retorted. "I worked in fast food, remember? I know better than to put mayo on a sandwich that isn't refrigerated."
"That's not what I meant." I replied gently. "I told you I'm allergic to eggs, remember?"
Vicki clamped her hand over her mouth and nodded.
"I'm so sorry, Jack!" she gushed. "I totally forgot! Oh thank God, I didn't use mayo. I could have killed you!"
I smiled at her overreaction.
"It's okay, Sweetheart." I assured her. "It just makes me break out in hives is all. This looks delicious though. What's on it?"
"Just mustard." she replied. "Ham and cheese with mustard. Like you'd get in your lunchbox when you were a kid."
"Well," I replied wryly, "not like I got in my lunchbox when I was a kid. My mother had it in her head to make my lunches 'healthy.' The problem was that they were just plain disgusting. Imagine roast beef and Swiss ruined by putting it on whole wheat bread."
Vicki wrinkled her nose.
"Eww, yuck!" she responded. "I'd trade!"
"Oh I tried, believe me." I replied. "All the other kids had real sandwiches in their boxes. No one wanted to trade my nasty peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat for even a simple baloney and cheese sandwich. They had good stuff for dessert too; doughnuts, Frito's and potato chips. They'd never trade any of that for my dried-out peeled carrot or celery sticks. Most of the time I just ended up throwing my disgusting 'lunches' in the trash, and watched everyone else eat their normal, edible lunches made on white bread, and then enjoy their real desserts afterwards. What I would have given for a Hostess pie, or even an apple!"
Vicki looked intently at me for a few seconds before replying.
"I'm sorry, Jack." she replied. "I can't imagine having to try and eat that stuff, only to throw it away and have to sit there and watch all the other kids eat their normal lunches in front of you."
I dropped my head for a moment before replying.
