A Courtship

Today is our anniversary.

And so I present to you...

a courtship.

In five acts.

Act I:

The Professor and I met our freshman year of college, except here's the thing: I don't actually remember meeting him for the first time. He does; for me, he was just always there, part of an extended group of friends, a nice guy but not anything I was romantically interested in. I was dating someone else, and also if you had asked my future husband what he thought about me then, 11 years ago, he would have simply said, "She's loud. Cute, but loud."

Well. I am pretty loud. I'll give him that.

I wasn't interested in him, but I caught on pretty quickly that he was a set-in-his-ways, focused kind of guy who was easily flustered by out-of-the-ordinary things. Like cute, loud girls. Who yelled--nay, bellowed--his name from across campus whenever he was spotted. Every dang time. And every dang time, I'd watch him stop in his tracks, jerk up his head, turn every which way, and then finally spot me and give a large, languid wave hello. Later, when we were becoming an item, I learned that this simultaneously completely unnerved and thrilled him. I just found joy in watching him get flustered.

Act II:

Cut to September of our sophomore year. My boyfriend and I had just broken up, and while it was absolutely the right thing to happen, I was pretty sore about it, as you may expect. One evening one of my friends, Courtney, said she had to take The Professor (who was simply The Student then) to our homegroup leader's house to give back some tool. Actually, I'm not really sure of the details, I was confused about the errand even then. I was fancy free and suddenly it crossed my mind: That kid. He's pretty cute. I could hang out with him. He might be a nice friend to have on my side.

I insisted we take my car and showed up as a cheerful, oblivious third wheel. (The Professor and Courtney both later admitted that they would have never worked; they were seriously way too alike.) We took the tool (a saw? why did a college student have a saw?) and then pestered The Professor to tell us if he had any money. He sheepishly admitted that he had a twenty, and please understand that right there and then I was very impressed. I mean, I had like two bucks in my checking account, and this kid had riches untold. Whoa. Pay attention, Christine.

We insisted he take us on a group date to Steak N Shake, where he bought us cheese fries and I hopped around like a crazy person because the shoes I had borrowed from Raechel, my roommate, were too small and giving me foot cramps. (Note: Rae, your feet are like two whole sizes smaller than mine. What in the heck was I doing wearing your shoes?)

When we were all in my car The Professor spotted a book, Spindle's End by my favorite author, Robin McKinley, and immediately snatched it and began reading the description from the book jacket in a high, singsong falsetto. I laughed and pretended to be offended, but I did notice when he stopped fooling around and quietly began reading the description in earnest. I didn't know it then, but I had found a kindred spirit.

Act III:

I must have made a good impression with my fantasy novel and my crazed Steak N Shake jumping, because this kid started taking an interest in me. In fact he attempted to call me, but in that day and age before cell phones, he had to rely on the student phone directory. Little did he know that there was another student in our grade who had my same name (first and last), and so of course he called her and left a message with her roommate. She never did get back with him. Likely she understood the mix-up before he did. She and I got used to this sort of thing over the years.

Clearly we had a psychic connection, because I called him a short while later without knowing about the previous, mistaken phone call. We agreed that this was funny and also amazing, and then set a date: Barnes and Noble.

So we went. And we left the bookstore amazed, each more than a little hopeful, because here were two people who had read, read a lot, and, as it turned out, read almost exactly the same things. We sat in the children's section for over an hour, crouched on the floor, pointing out titles, remembering characters, and over and over again confirming that yes, we had both read that one, now what about that one? Oh, that one too? Like a thousand times? One of my favorites too.

I had long ago resigned myself to never finding someone who shared my desire to always be reading. I would never find anyone who read for pleasure to the same degree that I did, nor would I find anyone who read from the same genres. To this day I have only met a handful of others who have the history of reading that I do, and all of them are women with the exception of The Professor.

So. I had found my book soul mate. That much was clear.

Seriously. Christine. Pay attention.

Act IV:

Fall break was coming very soon, and we made plans to meet up at an outlet mall in between his house and my friend Sally's house in Michigan, where Courtney and I were staying. Just before fall break I contracted pink eye (ask Rae sometime about how I woke her up that morning frantically calling my parents), which, as you know in college, is a tragedy, especially as I had to forego my contacts and wear my rather owlish, high prescription lenses.

Very embarrassing.

The Professor heard of my plight and took pity on me. He decided that the best way he could show solidarity and kindness was through--you guessed it--a book, and gave me a copy of The Princess Bride. I had of course seen the movie approximately 738 times, but had never realized that it was a book. I was touched and delighted that he had loaned me something so important to him, since he did tell me (rather gravely, in my memory--he didn't lend books easily back then) that it was one of his all-time favorites and that he thought I should have it for fall break.

I read it every waking moment during fall break, in between a dozen loads of laundry that Sally, Courtney, and I had brought to Sally's folks' house. In the middle of fall break we met The Professor and his best friend at the predetermined outlet mall, where we all hung out lightheartedly and I bought a red, pocketed scarf that was to be my signature winter item for many years. Later I learned The Professor had brought his friend to meet me and tell him what he thought of me. I guess I did okay; said friend was our best man.

Act V:

We all returned to school after fall break, and that first evening I called him and told him I had loved the book and wanted to get it back to him. He was in the middle of studying and said I could bring it by the library; I threw him off course for a few moments by suggesting he give up studying and meet me at the coffee shop. (One thing you should know about him: My husband is a focused person who very rarely does things spur-of-the-moment.) We met, chatted about the book and our breaks, and then the rest, as they say, is history.

Epilogue:

We dated all of our sophomore year. Before Thanksgiving break he said goodbye to me at the back door of my apartment, then kissed my cheek. Before I had time to react to this first kiss (whoo, cheek!), he had run halfway across the parking lot and was giving one of his signature languid waves.

I loved him for a very long time before he would admit the same to himself and to me.

We both applied to study at Oxford and both went the next September, the fall of our junior year. He had, unbeknownst to me, picked out and purchased a ring before he left. His mother brought it, wearing it on her finger on the plane, when our families came to visit in November. He proposed to me on December 6, 2003, just a few days before we returned to the States.

We had a long engagement, which we considered shortening before facing the realities of no money. We graduated and then had a two week break before the wedding. In those two weeks we had to find an apartment and a job for me, and then get our belongings from four separate states (Illinois, Michigan, Kansas, and Texas) to our first home in Oxford, Mississippi. We were young and so of course we managed to do all of it successfully.

And then we were married on May 21, 2005.

And we haven't looked back.

photos courtesy of Brennan

Happy anniversary to the hands-down most awesome guy I know. I would like for us to fill our home with books for the next multiple decades.