Many days had expired since the 5th, and no longer were VST and I under the spell of a magical September night of dancing. Busy with life, we weren’t thinking about what might have been, being too entrenched in what was. Make no mistake about this. We were both starving for love, with deep emotional wounds, and empty places in our hearts. We just hid that underneath very attractive exteriors, buried deep within. Bachelor and Bachelorette, we were.
Receiving my lunchtime update, I took down numbers of new clients from my Answering Service Angel (ASA). Business was picking up, that being a very good thing. In just a few months, Christmas would arrive, along with taxes and the ongoing expenses of owning a very old house. When done giving me contact information, ASA schooled me in the most devilish terms.
“Now. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I know you didn’t ever return VST’s calls. Why is a puzzlement to me. We’ve never met, but, I know your situation. You sound smart. You seem like a good business woman. Intelligent. Savvy. But, you’re as dumb as a box of rocks in the ways of the heart. Joy. This guy’s a nice guy. You need to call him today. I know your schedule and you aren’t too busy. This is rude. It’s insane. Are you listening to me?? I’ve been around the block a few times. Do it TODAY.”
I did listen, after finally hearing her, and she was absolutely right. He hadn’t called back in 24 hours. What was I thinking? I knew him a very long time ago and we were good friends. I needed to find out what was behind that dance. All at once, there was nothing else I needed to do more than call him. So, I did.
Awkward. Chilly. Not very interactive. That was the reception I received for about the first 15 seconds, until the icy conversation melted into something more. With only a little time in our work day, he would telephone later that evening. I would definitely answer the phone.
The conversation went late into the night, with laughter and quiet pauses while digesting stories exchanged. Magic traced the lines between his home and mine. Back and forth like electrical currents. Minutes conversing were stolen at different times of the day, until on Thursday we decided it was time to share a dinner date at my house. It was a weekend the boys would be home and he could meet them. 7:00PM at my old house on the very wrong side of town. I would cook.
Friday morning, with an important dinner date on my mind, I received a call from a desperate CC. She needed a favor. She had a date and her babysitter wasn’t available. Could I please watch her daughter?????? Friday night? 7:00 pm?
My thoughts immediately went into Bestie mode and mom mode. If VST couldn’t handle three little kids all under 5 feet tall, he wasn’t the guy for me.
Yes.
With that, I planned dinner and looked forward to my first date in awhile with a guy that I found not so annoying. The solid friendship we’d formed in high school unfolded as we told stories and laughed like we had years ago. Shared friends and acquaintance were discovered. He worked with my cousin. His workmates knew my family. An intricate web of connections was already in place, as people we knew cheered when they found out who we might be dating.
It’s difficult to plan a romantic evening with two 8 year olds and a 6 year old runnning around. Really, it’s just controlled chaos in a 900 square foot home on a sweltering September night in the central valley of California. Trying to cook in a kitchen with only a swamp cooler for relief made for a sweaty environment. Barbecued Tri-Tip was the main dish with sides of salad and potatoes, with ice cream for desert. Although very old, my BBQ was efficient, and I knew this was one meal I couldn’t ruin.
The boys were excited to be having a party with CC’s daughter. They played together often and always had the best time. They would tolerate an unknown gentleman, but the real fun would be with their friend. We were all excited about our play dates and with the ring of the doorbell, the party began. CC was thankful as she rushed off, looking like a million bucks. As the three kids spun around fast enough to turn to butter, the doorbell rang again.
VST filled the space, as I opened the door. He stood there with one red rose and two John Deere Teddy bears. A girl and a boy. He wore pale blue and a nervous smile. His eyes said everything you would’ve expected. Crossing through the threshold into my world, things would never return to the normal we’d both known just hours before.
Dinner burned. Sadly, the BBQ let me down, while our conversation proved too distracting. But, no one really noticed. It was the nicest dinner I’d shared with anyone in a very long time, while the conversation continued until he left at a respectable 10:00. CC returned to take a very sleepy little girl home, while two little boys snuggled into their beds and fell fast asleep.
I was left to reflect on the wonderful evening we’d shared, minus the burned dinner. Burned food and fires became my trademark over the years, earning me the nickname Torch. Prophetic, he should have noted my lack of abilities in the kitchen, but here were so many other things to observe. Both of us felt the comfortable way you feel with a most trusted friend. Someone who’s significant in your life. A person you hope will be your ally for a long time to come.
So many precious memories from those first little moments come back to me, even now. Eleven days after that first date, he proposed. That question, asked in such a private and sweet way, will remain a moment secret to us until I die. My answer was YES, as crazy as it seemed. Three months later, I walked down the aisle into his arms and we never looked back with anything but grateful hearts that it was us.
Our story is one of millions shared about the beginnings of true love. It’s the sweetest one I’ve been lucky to know or tell, because it was ours. Take some times to memorialize yours on paper. The sights and smells. The sighs and laughter. The glances exchanged. If you can’t write it, think it. If you can’t think it, dream about it. Don’t put it away in a dusty, forgotten place in your heart. Those we lost live on because we loved them so and can tell about it. So, tell. Remember. And smile.
Thanks for reading about a few precious days in my life. I promise, I’ll return to real time escapades and experiences tomorrow! I love you, Readers! Be sure to tell a friend about Grievinggardener.com.