Tuesday, July 18, 2006

How Did You Meet The Love of Your Life?

In the romances we write, one of the crucial parts of the story is always how the hero and heroine meet for the first time. I thought it might be fun if we all shared how we met the heroes in our lives.

I wish I could say the way I met my honey was romance-worthy and straight out of one of our novels, but the way I met my husband is as crazy as I am - which, now that I think about it, really shouldn't surprise me.

At the time I met Blue (my husband's nickname) I was a single mom in my thirties living in Murphy, NC (population 2,000) where the only single men my age were: a) the gay mortician, b) a sweet guy with no front teeth who owned the local gas station,
c) a former football hero who was mentally still stuck in his glory high school days, and d) one of Murphy's two police officers who not only resembled Barney Fife, but actually acted liked like the character.

In other words - the pickings were slim.

Which actually suited me just fine. Any single mom will tell you that trying to work, keep the lights and the water on at the same time, and raise a sixteen-year-old daughter alone leaves little time for a social life. I was truly happy with my life, pleased that I was rasing my daughter in a wonderful small-town atmosphere, and totally relieved that I was safe from any messy relationship complications.

Until fate stepped in and shook things up.

It was October 1985, and one of the girls who worked at the dentist office with me decided to have a Halloween party. That sounded like fun to me, until she mentioned her husband (who worked out of town) was bringing a friend home for the weekend to go fishing in the abundant mountain streams our location provided. The guy was my age, divorced, AND he needed a date for the party.

BLIND DATE! No how, now way! I promptly told her. I'd never been on a blind date in my life. Heck, over the last five years I hadn't been on ANY kind of date.

Ironically, it was my daughter who finally persuaded me to go. "You don't have to marry the guy," she'd told me, "just go to the party and have fun." Of course, many years later my daughter admitted she was only trying to get me out of the house so her boyfriend and some other friends could come over - but I didn't know that at the time.

I went to the party - dressed as Gene Simmons from KISS (my daughter's favorite band at the time). My face was painted black and white, and I was dressed in jeans with leg warmers (also popular at the time) and my hair was teased out as far as we could get it. A pretty sight - I WASN'T. And poor Blue (not the dress-up for a Halloween party type) simply wore a cowboy hat and had a bandana tied around his neck - very conservative.

Blue admits he didn't quite know what to think of me at first, but the good news is that the conservative cowboy and the nutty punk rocker had a great time at the party. Two years later (the year my daughter graduated from high school) we were married.

Next year in 2007 will be twenty years for Blue and I.

I'm still, of course, nutty.

And thankfully, he still puts up with me. :)

So, how about you? How did you meet the love of your life?

Candy Halliday

2 comments:

Elizabeth Hoyt said...

Ooo! Fun question, Candy, and I loved your story! Here's mine:

It was the summer between my junior and senior year of college and I decided to take an archaeology field school course. The dig was in the middle of a corn field in SW Wisonsin, we were digging in CLAY, and the TA was this jerky guy who spent all day striding around the dig with a frown on his face. Turned out the dig was the subject of his dissertation and he was taking it pretty seriously.

Flash forward nine monthes and I'm taking a lab course from Mr. Jerk. Three hours a week I sit around the archaeology lab with this guy, measuring and cataloguing points (arrow heads) and it turns out that he's not such a jerk after all. Then one day he oh so casually tells me that actually, technically, he's not the one grading me and therefore it isn't an ethics violation if he asks me out. Well, how could I resist such a smooth operator?

Six months later we were married.

Diane Perkins said...

I met my husband in a mental hospital....

I was working as a psychiatric aide and he SAID he was, too. After a brazillion years of marriage I'm wondering if he had been kidding me.

Seriously, we first met when we took a group of patients to an ice cream parlor-this was in the days of long hospitalizations- and he didn't have any money with him but wouldn't borrow from me (give up ice cream? He must have been crazy!)

On our first date to a bar in Georgetown, he also didn't have enough money. I was smitten!