Seven

Another Tradition

"SlingShot?" Hart asks when we arrive at the touch of sunset to Kings Island.

"Slingshot!" I say totally pumped to be going on it for the second time this year. Hart grins and we head over to the ride. I never really understood why the rest of the group doesn't go on some other ride while we ride Slingshot. I mean they just stand there talking to each other while we scream our ears off. It's almost as if they're waiting for something to happen. Hm.

"Do you ever get tired of this ride?" Hart asks as we load in.

I look at him funny. "Of course not." I say. "Every time I ride it I get a new thrill." I say in a gaze. I'm looking in his eyes, but it's hard because the blazing sun is making a halo around the frame of his face. It makes him look kind of prince-like.

He waits for the employees to back off before saying anything. "Bridget, do I give you a thrill?" He asks finally.

His right hand is now on mine. I think about it, but only for a few moments. "Every day!"

He smiled and just sat back in his seat with a smile on his face. Hm. The people haven't started counting yet. That's weird.

"Do you remember when it scared you to ride this with me?" He asks.

I laugh. "It wasn't you, it was the ride. I called it "The Ride of Death!" I continued to laugh.

He nods like that makes sense. "I said that this could be a tradition for us. Do you know what another word for tradition is?" I shake my head. "Habit." He answers. "And the thing about a habit is," He looks deep into my eyes. "It's addicting. This tradition stuff wasn't about the ride; it was about riding it with you." I notice that his hand is shaking holding my hand. "I love you." He says gently.

I stare at him when my eyes well up with tears.

"Marry me?" He asks struggling to pull a small box out of his pocket. I start crying as he slips it onto my ring finger. I can't even reach my eyes to wipe the millions of tears that are falling out of them because of the straps holding us in, but I can still see the hint of tears that are forming in his. He is such a softy!

"I love you too!" I cry. He raises an eyebrow hopefully. He is still shaking. "Yes!" I scream.

His hand stops shaking as a huge, stupid, love-struck grin appears on his face that reaches from ear to ear. I can't help but think how good of a husband he is going to be, and how I just can't wait to live the rest of my life with him at my side.

The next thing I know we are being thrown into the air. I could ever forget the rush of that one moment. I was crying. I was screaming. And I was in love.

When we get off of the ride he puts his hand around my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. "Do you think making this more annual would make it better?" He asks me a second later.

I smile. "Like a tradition?"

"Yeah, it could be like our thing. You, me, this spot." He takes my hand "It can be our autumn tradition."

I hope you have enjoyed My Summer Tradition. Part of this story actually happened to me, and the other half is completely due to my overactive imagination. Please review if you have any comments regarding this story or my writing in general. Thank you for reading.