When we left off in Part 1, Jordan had just arrived at my parents' house, and my dad was striding across the yard toward Jordan's truck. My dad is a nice person, and he and Jordan get along really well, but when Jordan saw my dad making a beeline for him, he started sweating.
"Hey, guys," said my dad. "What..." He paused. "Oh sh--." My dad doesn't usually curse, but desperate times and all that jazz. "Uh, come on in."
They'd planned on Jeff staying in the car, but my dad was staring them down, and neither felt like they could say no. So they both got out and followed my dad into the house.
"Look who's here," my dad said to my mom. "It's Jordan."
"Jordan?" she said and looked behind him toward the truck. "Is Amanda here?"
"No, she's... not," Jordan said.
Then realization dawned on her. "Oh." She turned around to look at my dad, but he had walked into the kitchen. He returned ten seconds later with a full glass of wine. My dad is not usually a cursing wineo, but desperate times and all that jazz.
"Let's get this over with," he said and took three large gulps. Then my mom started crying. While this was happening, Jeff was standing awkwardly in the doorway, and my sister had come out of her room.
That's how Jordan ended up sitting in my parents' living room, talking to them about proposing to me, with Jeff and my sister sitting awkwardly to the side. After it was over, my dad told Jordan that if he ever hurt me, he'd break his kneecaps. Then he reminded Jordan that he owned several hunting rifles and wouldn't hesitate to "make it look like an accident."
Calm down, Al Pacino.
Jordan nodded and assured my dad that if he did do anything to hurt me, he'd be smart enough not to let anybody find out about it until he was halfway to Mexico.*
*There's a 99.43% chance he didn't really say that.
The deed being done, Jordan and Jeff headed back to Oklahoma. THEN, Jeff had his friend, let's call her Jenny, write on his Facebook wall. It said something like, "Thanks so much for the guitar! You're the best!" This was in hopes that I would see it and think, I guess they really did go to Texas to drop off a guitar.
After that, all Jordan had to do was sit back for the next two weeks and pretend like he didn't know what I was talking about when I told him my parents had gotten their Christmas tree (he'd already seen it) or that my dad had put lights on our house for the first time ever (he'd already seen them) or that my mom had gotten her hair cut (he'd already seen it).
And all my family had to do was play it cool when I told them that I would TOTALLY know if Jordan was planning on proposing and that there was no way he was proposing at Christmas.
So we all spent the day in Chicago on December 26, and Jordan proposed at the Bean while my dad and sister hid behind a bush and took creeper pictures. It's a running joke in our family that my dad is terrible at taking pictures, so the fact that he actually got a shot of Jordan down on one knee is the crowning photographic achievement of his life.
And then a few months later, Jordan and I took engagement pictures with some friends of ours. In some of them we actually smiled. In this one we did not.
And the rest, as they say, is history.