*** And so, our story continues…from my husband’s perspective.
As we neared the Thanksgiving break, I decided to email her.
I am free after school to help you with the kids, if you still need help.
HER: The kids would need help and they would greatly appreciate your expertise.
Hmm. Ok. The kids? Why are we talking about them? Well, I showed up after school and she promptly escorted me to the copy machine. The kids needed copies. So, after standing over the dumpy, chugging copy machine for an hour, I returned to my future wife making fun of my last name—our last name.
I could tell I was going to have to pick up the pace.
ME: I think it’s best that you give me your number, so we can work out the details for practice more easily.
The minute I had her number, I texted her and asked her if she wanted to get some coffee after practice.
HER: I don’t drink coffee.
ME: How about a muffin? They have delicious muffins. Coffee cake.
HER: Is this a date?
ME: It is a professional outing.
HER: Are we going to discuss the National Academic League?
ME: Of course.
Of course, I had no attention of discussing the National Academic League, the kids, the croaking copier, the school, books, reading or any of the like. I wanted to know about her. I wanted to let the warm fireplace and soft acoustic guitar of the coffee shop take us away.
So, on a sunny and frosty day in December, we drove separately to our “first date.” And in the back room—a box of sunlight—we sat across from each other and talked.
In the toasty sanctuary of the cafe, my future wife refused my offer of a coffee cake muffin and looked at every beverage option as if it were poison. Yet, once we sat down, we had instant chemistry.
Talking was easy and we seemed to play off each other, to know how to load each other’s punch lines. The conversation was light and we quickly started to form a long list of inside jokes.
It seemed only natural that we go on another “date.”
The thing was we couldn’t call it a date because we were coworkers. It would be “inappropriate” to go on a date, so we settled for a “professional outing.”
I hardly knew what that meant under the circumstances, but she seemed more comfortable with that. So, I set about looking for a perfect location for our professional outing.
Settling on a restaurant that seemed like casual fine dining, I made my move.