To Earnest, with Love

I got married for the insurance.   I was just-turned 40 and being activated for the second gulf war and it occurred to me that if anything were to happen to me while I was on AD (in my ultra-dangerous job of writing regulations in DC) I could at least leave the man I loved a little bit of cash to help him raise his son.  It was finally a reason for marriage that made sense to me.  Of course, although he had asked me to marry him at least a half-dozen times in the first two years we were together, after being turned down cold every time, my not-yet hubby had quit asking nearly a year before.  Quitter. So, it was left up to me to do the asking, which I did late one morning as we were leaving the elementary school where we had just enrolled his son in 3rd grade.  I turned to him as we were walking down the sidewalk, with cars whooshing past us a few feet away, and the heat blasting up from the pavement (it was August in New Orleans) and said, "We should get married."  Very