When he showed up at my grandfather's house, I was looking pretty cute. (If you don't believe me, you can ask him.) If girls were spiders, the way we dress is our bridge. This is why it is relevant to mention that I was wearing a pair of black strappy sandals with a little kitten heel, and denim capris. And my hair was fantastic - I had pretty much the best hair dresser in the world, and had gotten an amazing hair cut right before I left Kentucky. I say that this is relevant because it was at this moment that it occurred to The Hubs (for the first time in our friendship) that I was a girl. (I think its fair to say that I am his only female friend that he had never made a move on, ever.) Although I didn't realize it at the time, this was an important shift in our relationship.
Being po' folk, we went to a park in Oxford, Maryland, which has an amazing view of the bay and is a nice place to walk. We talked for hours. Then we had dinner with my sister and her husband at Applebees. Before he left, he invited me to come visit and have dinner with him and his room mates at his house. Having very little better to do (most of my time was taken up with work at the public defender's office, or work at Starbucks), I agreed.
I had fun hanging out with him. We went to a local park, and walked around the lake. Once again, we talked. We talked for hours. We ate dinner at Houlihan's (home of the ginormous bottle of alcohol that was so impressive, I had to send a picture of it to my law school friend and future bride's maid, R.) The whole time, we just kept talking. I'm not sure I've ever spent as much time talking before or since.
We stood outside at my car as I was leaving, and talked. We talked about everything: families, religion, education, goals in life. For a few more hours, until it was dark and I was freezing. I knew him well enough to see the tell-tale signs of interest growing - apparently, his crush started in Oxford Park, but I didn't know. What surprises me to this day was that he refrained from saying anything that night, discretion generally not being his modus operandi.
The truth is, it was that afternoon that I consciously decided to begin weaving my web. I don't know that I've ever mentioned this to him (hi, honey!), but during our long conversation that day, I weighed and measured him, and evaluated his suitability, and concluded that he'd do. And knowing him so well, and knowing myself, I also knew that if I took this step - if I decided to date him - I was going to marry him. I may have engaged in a little "frame building" - subtle flirting.
I also knew it was going to be a week or so before I saw him again, so after the appropriate amount of flirting, I headed back across the bridge. And followed the visit up with a campaign of increasingly flirtatious (modest, but flirtatious) text messaging. I think we even talked on the phone once or twice. The next weekend (June 20), we arranged to meet at Oxford Park again.
And a couple of weeks later, I posted this: Hooookay.
|As it turns out, I weave a pretty good web.|