I worked for a woman who told my teenage self that there was someone for everyone, if you are paying attention and grab them when they come into your life.
I met him because I was dating the guy who lived across the hall from him in the dorm.
I saw him from time to time on campus and thought he was cute. He had a Southern kind of accent… And those amazing blue eyes.
We shared our first kiss before we ever had our first date. He invited me to his birthday party in the dorm. I was late for a date with someone else so I could accept the invitation to go to his party first. He walked me to my car and kissed me. It was remembering all the specifics of that kiss – on that February night standing next to my green Gremlin in the cold outside Scott Hall – that scored us big points in the Newlywed game we played at the church Sweetheart Banquet years later. When both of our answers matched exactly, the preacher said, “It must have been some kiss!”
In the fall, I stopped to see my friend, Susie, in that same co-ed dorm. She wasn’t in, but when I cut through the guys’ side, there he was. I must have been remembering that kiss. I invited him to come home with me for lunch, even though I was still dating someone else. He said yes. We had to make a detour on the way to my apartment, to the grocery store to pick up something to make for lunch – chicken noodle soup, bologna, bread and barbeque potato chips. If he thought it was odd that I had no groceries after inviting him to lunch, he didn’t say anything.
We had a nice lunch, sitting at my table in front of the big picture window of my first floor apartment. My landlord walked by and waved. He went back to the dorm after lunch. I was still thinking about him, when the guy I was dating called. He screamed, “You had a man in your apartment!” My landlord was his brother-in-law so news like that didn’t take too long to be delivered.
The long story made short is I called him sobbing about the break-up. I guess he felt sorry for me. In between sobs, he asked if I wanted to go out with him that night and forget my troubles. I said yes. On the way out the door, I dumped my penny jar in my purse. Much to the dismay of our waitress, we paid for our pitcher with two hundred pennies. The date was just what I needed. He was fun. He was smart and charming and those eyes… And the kiss six months earlier was only a preview of those to come.
After our impromptu date, there was no one else for either of us. Although, there was one old flame who like to borrow albums from him so she could see him alone when he came to get them back. Her taste in music must have changed. When I picked up the borrowed album, instead of him, she never borrowed one again.
About the middle of this month, my husband said he wanted to do something romantic – just the two of us – instead of our regular monthly dinner with friends. I was surprised. We’d already had a romantic celebration on our wedding anniversary earlier this summer in St. Louis, where we honeymooned forty-three years ago. My husband, who doesn’t like to make plans too far in advance, had a plan. He took me to a nearby big city to a fine dining restaurant for dinner and we stayed overnight at the hotel across the parking lot from it. My romantic husband planned a celebration for the forty-fourth anniversary of our first date. The night I had the good sense to grab the one who was meant for me and I haven’t let him go.