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The first thing your eyes come to rest on, as you enter the house from the attached garage, is the kitchen table. On the table was an open bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, a single glass and a card. The card read "I'm trusting you so please don't let me down. Pour yourself a glass of wine and come up to the bedroom. I love you." And it was signed Bert (my wife's name is Bertha, but God help you if you ever call her that). My curiosity aroused, I poured myself a glass, grabbed the bottle, and headed for the upstairs bedroom. The first thing I noticed was the quiet. Usually Bert had the radio going upstairs, the CD player blaring in the family room and the living room TV cranking out something - quiet was not Bert's forte. When I reached the top of the stairs I heard a smacking sound - something like the sound you make when you smack a fist into the palm of your hand. Closer to the bedroom I could hear some low grunts and then a low, drawn out "Oh God yes" that almost sounded like a hiss and then I was in the doorway. In an instant a plethora of feelings swept over me - shock, surprise, disbelief, happiness, and yes, even a small bit of anger.

Bert and I have been together the better part of ten years now, married for five after living together for five before that. When we first got together the odds were totally against us; Bert had survived two failed marriages and I had managed to retain my sanity after three. Everyone we knew said it would never work, but we had managed to surprise everyone, including ourselves, and we were still together. The key to our longevity has been complete absolute honesty with each other, about ...

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