Mrs. Simpson in 13 months counting...

Beverley Simpson.

I wonder how long it's going to take me to get used to that name. Will I ever get used to it? I've tried to explain this to Mr. Simpson because he seems to feel slightly offended every time I mention how, "I'm going to be a Simpson..." choking down the gagging sensation and a huge snarl. :) It's not personal. It isn't that I don't want to be a Simpson. I've been a Viljoen for 28 years. It's MY name; the name that was given to me at birth. Why would I want to change it? I love my name.

It's important to him, so, I have agreed to legally change my name but work under my maiden name.


This is how he asked...

It was his 3 anniversary of being in the NYPD and my second to last day at my restaurant. I needed to be at work by 5pm and I'm usually done with work around 12am. I had just started doing Bikarum Yoga every day and I had planned to go to class early the next morning before my last day of work, but he asked me to meet him after work for a drink to celebrate his work anniversary. I thought, "Ugh, I want to go to yoga tomorrow - I don't want to be out late."

I said, "Don't you want to go out with your friends?"

"They are all working."

I proceed to go down the list of people he might not have thought to call. :)

"No," he said, "he flaked on me."

"Ok, but I don't want to stay out too late. Text me later with where you want to go and I'll see you after work."

Around 11:00 at night I get a text from him asking me how the night was shaping out because if we were still crowded then I most likely would be stuck at work a little later then originally anticipated. Luckily, I wasn't busy, so, I told him that we were going to get done with work at 12am. I asked him where he wanted to go, and he said he didn't know.

I said, "Let's go to the first place you first had a drink in NYC."

"That's a good idea. I think it's somewhere around Lincoln Square. I'll head over there early and try and find the place then text you the location."

At 12:00am on the dot I get this text message that says he can't find the place, so, come meet him at the fountain and we will pick a place from there. I told him to go to PJ Clarke's that's right on the corner and I'll meet him there. He told me to stop being so difficult and just meet him at the fountain. He then proceeds to badger me with "Are you done yet? Are you off work? Are you heading over?" A little irritated at this point - I reminded him that it takes me a little while to close up the shop.

Finally done with the money and cleaning at 12:38am, I try and hail a cab on 7th Avenue, but Lady Gaga was playing at Madison Square Garden. No cabs to be found. I finally gave in and took the train arriving to the fountain at 12:50am and he had been there since 11:45pm. Whoops! I didn't know he was going to propose I would have hustled!

I had to call him to find him, but there he was right smack in the middle of Lincoln Square with a table that had candles, champaign and music right smack in the middle of the square wearing a suit in the sweltering July evening.

I went over the to the table completely shocked and overwhelmed. We had talked about moving forward and I knew that the time would be coming, but he caught me completely off guard. I was there sporting my Hanson t-shirt. My nails were disgusting, and I had no idea. There in one of the most enchanting places in New York surrounded by the Met, Julliard, South Pacific theatre and a gorgeous fountain he got down on his knee promising to dedicate the rest of his life to me.