I have never been very good at pulling a fast one- especially when it comes to my wife. She sees thru my little fibs like Superman sees thru Saran Wrap (you’ve never heard that old saying?) and the one or two times I’ve tried to concoct a surprise for her, my efforts have gone down in flames. In fact, I probably haven’t managed to surprise her in any significant way since a certain spring evening back in 1991 when I asked her to marry me . . . a shock from which she is still trying to recover.
But with her 50th birthday approaching in late June, I decided that I had to at least try to put something together that would knock her for a loop- happily, that is. Plan A was to surprise her with tickets to a Brewers game at Miller Park (neither of us have been inside Miller’s front gate, let alone at an actual game) – an outing with her family that would have been a blast. But the only day that would have worked in June happened to be Sunday the 10th, when we had to head up to Waukesha for a graduation party, and although I enjoy days that are double and triple booked with multiple obligations and events, my wife decidedly does not. So that was out.
It was when I took out my calendar and looked over the month of June in search of Plan B that it suddenly dawned on me: June 17th, Father’s Day! My diabolical scheme immediately took shape: I would somehow arrange for lunch at a restaurant which Kathy would think was for a Father’s Day celebration with her family – but when we got to the restaurant, friends of ours would be waiting there, decked out in party hats, singing Happy Birthday to her! <<Insert sound of a mad scientist’s laughter>> Actually, I have to give credit where it’s due. Our dear friend Vicki Repsholdt pulled off exactly this sort of surprise some years ago for her husband Ted’s 40th birthday. When they walked into one of his favorite restaurants in Cedarburg for what Ted expected would be a quiet and romantic dinner, he instead was greeted by the Bergs, Marschalls and Glucks singing Happy Birthday. It was fabulous.
Step one was to enlist the help and cooperation of Kathy’s family, and to make sure that we didn’t end up abdicating Father’s Day altogether. They embraced the idea warmly and were happy to cooperate in the deceit, which amounted to foisting fake Father’s Day plans on my unsuspecting wife. (Polly proved to have a spectacularly impressive deadpan expression when talking about our “plans” the day before- If she ever tires of choral directing, she could achieve great success in the field of espionage.)
Step two was to assemble the friends for the surprise- and while it was mightily tempting to gather the aforementioned couples from Carthage to reenact Ted’s surprise – but this time for Kathy – I knew that there was absolutely no way that all of them would be free on such short notice. So instead, I extended the invitation to a few of our closest friends at Holy Communion. . . (I could have gone BIG but that was too scary) and every single person accepted the invitation gratefully and enthusiastically.
Step three was concocting the LIE. <<again, insert the sound of a mad scientist’s laughter>> The fictitious plan was that we would celebrate Father’s Day at 12:30 at the Yard Arm. I would tell Kathy that Polly had called to propose this, and that it had been Lorelai’s idea, since she loves the Yard Arm, and her grandpa would eat sawdust and shotgun shells if it would make his granddaughter happy. And just to make the deceit even more impregnable, I suggested that Kathy’s dad call us and ask us to pick him up – which made it seem even more like just another Father’s Day gathering. In the meantime, Jean Veltman offered to bring birthday party decorations and favors and Kate Barrow kindly agreed to get a birthday cake. . . and we were set!
Or so I thought.
Sunday, just as I was leaving the house to start the car before we picked up Kathy’s dad, my cell phone rang – and it was Lynn Helmke . With Kathy still in the house, I ran outside and to the side of the house, out of sight, to take the call. Lynn was calling to say that the Yard Arm had no record of our reservation (which I had made by leaving a voice mail several days earlier, which in retrospect was a dumb way for me to do it) and with only one waitress on duty, they didn’t think that they could accommodate all 13 of us. <<insert sound of grown man shrieking>> She said that they would try to figure out another place to go, and I asked her to switch to texting from that point on so Kathy wouldn’t catch on. And I put my cell phone away and came back to the front of the house just as Kathy was coming out. Naturally she asked me what I had been doing, and since I typically have NO interest in our lawn and yard, it’s not like I could say I was checking on how the lilacs were doing. “Nothing,” I tried to say as nonchalantly as possible and off we went to pick up Kathy’s dad. And once we got there, I switched to the back seat, not so much to give my father-in- law the more comfortable front seat but so I could continue to receive and send texts without Kathy catching on. And away we went.
Text #1 from Lynn said “we’re staying here” – which sounded good to me, even if it meant it would take three hours for us to be served. But three minutes later, text #2 said “Spinnakers” – which meant I suddenly had to concoct a ruse to change our lunch destination without attracting suspicion. Our plan, supposedly, was to meet Polly, Mark & Lorelai at the Yard Arm, so I was going to have to pretend that they were calling me to change location, because it was way too busy. So I texted Lynn and asked her to text me again, so my phone would beep again – which she did – and at that point, I had to create one-half of a completely convincing phone conversation with Polly. . . complete with believable pauses to allow for what the other person was supposedly saying. So it went something like this:
Me: This is Greg. (little pause) Oh hi. (big pause) Uh oh. (bigger pause) I think an executive decision is exactly what was needed! (medium pause) Oh, that’ll be great! And Lorelai will love that because it’s out by the lakefront. Cool! (modest pause) Okay. See you soon.
I don’t know how long that “exchange” actually took place, but it felt like hours on end. But Kathy didn’t seem the least bit suspicious, and she changed course accordingly – and even managed to overshoot the place by a block (which is easy to do- a lot of the streets along the lakefront look the same at a glance) which was good because that little extra time probably allowed our co-conspirators to settle in and be ready for our arrival. Then just as we’re getting out of the car, my phone rings and it’s an unfamiliar-looking number- but if it was someone from our group, I thought it was important that I answer….. so I did. Groan- it was someone from a local funeral home, asking me to do music for a big funeral coming up later in the week. So I’m talking to this funeral home guy while we’re walking into this restaurant, which was probably good because it distracted me a bit from the mounting tension. (Otherwise, chances are I would have been a blithering idiot, trying to sound “normal” and actually sounding anything but.) As we finally got to the top floor where the restaurant is, there was no sign of anyone of our group – and for a split second I thought “uh oh, did Lynn say Spinnakers when she actually meant someplace else?” But then I got sight of the silhouettes of party hats on the far end of the dining room, and I knew we were exactly where we were supposed to be. <<insert sound of a HUGE sigh of relief>>
You can pretty much guess the rest. Happy Birthday was sung to my disbelieving wife – a delicious meal was enjoyed by all, followed by cake and relaxation at the Barrows. My wife was the toast of the town and showered with affection and love. We did it! We fooled her! And even though I aged a half century just in the creation and implementation of the scheme, I was thrilled that we did it. And with the surprise completed, I could finally relax and really breathe for the first time in two weeks. <<Insert sound of contended snoring>>
pictured above: This is the group that assembled to surprise my wife. My thanks to them for giving up a couple hours of Father’s Day to be part of this.