Friday, February 14, 2014

Happy Valentine's Day

What an amazing day to write a love note. February is a big month for me. It is the month I went on my first date with my soul mate. It is the month I married him in a tiny chapel in Las Vegas. Elvis was not there. February is also the month I published my first book, Second Chances.

As I think about all the love and joy February and my husband brings me, I'm reminded of how it all began, exactly ten years ago. So today, as a tribute to true love, I will share my own true love story. 

My True Love Story

My husband was my neighbor. I moved to the neighborhood first and a year or so later he built a home across the street from mine. To set some context, I'm a native Floridian, southern girl all the way. He is a very sarcastic New Yorker, a Yankee through and through. And, as it turns out, Southern sarcasm is a completely different language from Yankee sarcasm. This, I did not know at the time. 

While his house was under construction he came to check on the progress one day. You see? I was a crafty person and all the scrap lumber they were throwing away was calling to me. Being the polite southerner I am, I didn't want to just take it from the dumpster without asking. He may have wanted it. So I conjured up the nerve to walk over and say hi and ask him. I was especially shy at that time in my life and didn't trust easily. Initiating a conversation with a stranger was WAY outside my comfort zone. When I finally asked him about the lumber, he rambled off something sharp and snarky about not really using it for crafts but needing flooring for my attic. Well, I never! My southern girl hackles came up and I was genuinely offended. How dare he accuse me of lying. I'm sure I was mumbling that very sentiment as I stomped away, never to speak to him again for the next six months. Rude, frustrating, really tall and hot...rude man!!!

Six months later I was home alone and got a knock on my door. After months of cold shouldering each other, I was a little shocked to see him on my porch when I opened the door. 

"Do you have a pet carrier?" he asked, all six-foot-four inches of him towering over me. "I need to take my cat to the vet." 

He had a cat? That explained a lot. I certainly hadn't pegged him as a cat person. I guess having two large dogs, he assumed I had a pet carrier, too. "Nope," I said. I wanted to give him a snarky reply about not really having a cat and wanting to use it for something else but I'm not witty like that on the fly. "Sorry." I shrugged. "You might want to try the other neighbors." 

I shut the door, he left and I went back to whatever it was I was doing before I was so rudely interrupted by my rude, hot neighbor. A few minutes later he was pounding on my door again. 

"They didn't have one," he said when I opened the door. And this was my problem how? We stood there, staring at each other. What did he expect me to do?

"Look," he said in an exasperated tone. "He's stuck in my speaker. I think he's hurt and I can't get him out."

"A speaker?" What the heck does being stuck in a speaker mean? I tried to picture it but got nothing.

"Yeah, I just need help getting him out and in my truck so I can take him to the vet."

Oh, for Christ's sake. How could I not help whatever poor animal had to live with this guy. Poor thing. I grabbed my cell phone, because a girl can never be too paranoid about crazy neighbors, and followed him across the street. Instead of going to the front door, he took me through his garage. A nice bass boat filled the two-car space, along with a few typical guy things like tools and boat batteries.

He opened the door leading into his house and I followed him in. Oh, my god! Nothing. Six months he'd lived there and there was nothing but a few stacks of boxes and a small dining table, piled with more boxes in the main living room. The blinds were all closed and there was no cat or speaker in sight. Alarm bells started going off in my head. Who lives like this? 

He stood by the door and raised his arm, pointing to the back of the house where a long, dark hallway loomed in the distance. "He's back there," he whispered as he pointed into the darkness. Whispered!?!?! What the Eeeeeeffffff?!?!?!?!?! He's going to chop me up into tiny pieces and put me in his freezer!!!

Chills raced across my skin. "Um, excuse me for just a minute." I backed away into the garage and ran back out into the driveway then called my other neighbor for help.  

Yep, My new hot neighbor was an ax murderer. We laugh now, a lot. There were a few other gem moments that kept us apart and added to the crazy neighbor thing. He thought I was off my rocker, too. I think it was a year later, after I had been stood up on Valentine's day, when I got up the nerve and actually asked him out for wings and beer. I actually called my best friend, who was a private investigator, and told her to come find me if she didn't hear back from me by a certain time. We had such a good time I forgot to call her! And, as it turns out, he did have a cat named Rails who was the devil incarnate and gave my hubs and I every reason to fear him. He had been stuck in  my husband's huge bass speaker in his music room. Yes, my hubs was a bachelor who had no need for furniture and played the bass. Still does. HOT! 

That was ten years ago. We haven't been apart since. The universe was against us, but it just goes to show you, if it's meant to be, like life, love will find a way. 

Do you have a true love story? I'd love to read about it in the comments below. I wish you all a life of love and your own HEA. Happy Valentine's day!