Anne at the Modern Mrs. Darcy is having another carnival, this one on “Perspectives on Life and Love.”
I already wrote a post (also inspired by Anne) about how I’m not living the story I expected. It picks up when I get married at 29, and then struggle with infertility so I don’t have my first baby until I’m 36.
But why didn’t I get married until I was 29? I knew I wanted to be out of college before I married, but there’s a whole lot of years between college graduation at 22 and marriage at 29 1/2.
When I graduated from college in May I moved to Dallas, the nearest big city. One of my former college roommates was living there and needed a new roommate, so it worked out well for me to move in. She was engaged and would be marrying that December – plenty of time for me to find a job and get some money saved up and either find another roommate or a cheap apartment I could carry on my own.
While my roommate was one of my best friends, I was less than impressed with her fiance. Ok, fine, I didn’t like him. At all. So when he kept telling me about this friend of his that I had to meet because he was so perfect for me, well, excuse me if I was not that interested. Friends with you? Nothankyou.
I was in the wedding party, one of several bridesmaids. Because of my new job I had to cut it close getting to the bride’s hometown for the wedding weekend, and I ended up missing the rehearsal, pulling into the church parking lot just as everyone else was loading up to drive to the restaurant for the rehearsal dinner. The bride hopped into my car to direct me as I apologized. Bad traffic and bad directions had gotten me way behind schedule.
We walked into the restaurant together, and she took me around to introduce me to everyone. I saw this guy standing in line to get some food and felt my stomach flip – who was he, and was he single?
Oh. He’s a friend of the groom. From Arizona no less, so not likely that I’ll ever see him again.
As the bride walks away with me she whispers “he’s the one we’ve been telling you you’ve got to meet – he is perfect for you!”
Guess he’s single then at least. My stomach flips again.
I don’t speak with him that night, beyond that introductory hello.
At the wedding, he’s not paired up with me, instead I’m matched with a shorter guy who I can’t pay attention to as I gaze at the dark-haired man in front of him. I am such a sucker for dark hair.
During the reception I speak with him briefly to talk some trash about his sports team. His college is the current number three in basketball and in their enthusiasm he and the groom keep sneaking away to watch the big game being televised at the bar.
One of the other bridesmaids flirts with him outrageously, and they make plans to meet the next day to tour the city. Everyone is invited, all the wedding party who don’t have plans.
I’m a passenger the next day, and am not fully paying attention to what’s going on, alternating between wishing to meet up with him, and not wanting to see the other bridesmaid flirt with him again. For some reason, we don’t make the meet-up spot on time, and in this age before universal cell-phones there is no way to reconnect or modify the meeting spot or time.
At least I don’t have to see her flirt with him again. She was awfully touchy.
He calls the hotel that night, talking first with her and I hear her offer her phone number. Then she turns to me, handing me the phone – he’s asked for me. We speak briefly, trivially, and then I say goodbye, never expecting to hear from him again. I specifically don’t give him my number.
It’s a long drive back to Dallas and my empty apartment. Back to my crazy work schedule and no time to meet anyone.
A few days later I get home from work with no plans for my evening when my phone unexpectedly rings. I debate with myself if I should answer it or not. Eh, why not.
“Hi, Sheila? I met you at the wedding last week?”
How on earth? The bride and groom aren’t even back from their honeymoon, he can’t have gotten my number from them.
He’s not yet back to Arizona, instead he took the chance to travel further East first and visit his extended family. He’s calling from his Aunt’s house in Indiana, about to head home. He wants to stop by Dallas on his way and see me…