When we last left off… Mr. Brown and I broke up. I was very sad.
But I did what any reasonable 20-something would do and I got my butt to the gym. A lot. And I went out with friends. A lot. My dear friend Stephanie and I and her sister found this little sports bar that we made our own and had a standing Thursday night date there. We laughed and drank and flirted. It was a great time and I have so many fun memories of that summer. And I dropped 10 pounds.
I ran into Mr. Brown one day at work and he oh-so-casually suggested that we “get together” sometime. He was being very obtuse about the whole thing. But he did actually call so we did get together. And for a few weeks (maybe two) we hung out again. We had a few fun dates including a drive up to Milwaukee for a meal including pork products, cheese and beer – because really what’s a trip to Wisconsin without those three ingredients. And one night we headed downtown to my old roommate Janet’s apartment for a night of Euchre with her and her boyfriend (who is now her husband of 6 years). We had a great time. Such a great time that I figured it was time to ask where he saw things going with us. Turns out he saw things going exactly nowhere. He enjoyed hanging out but his thoughts on our future hadn’t changed. And so again, we stopped seeing each other. If you are keeping score, this is brush-off #2.
So I moved on. I kept doing my normal things and didn’t worry much about him or any other guy. But then a funny thing happened. And then a not-so-funny thing happened. First, the funny thing… I met someone. He wasn’t husband material but he was fun. And he liked me. And we got together a few times.
What was Mr. Brown doing during this time? From what I gather, he was going out with other girls. Girls that he thought were his *type*. But I suspect that going out with people he had pictured as his type led him to the realization that sometimes what you think you want isn’t what you really ever wanted at all.
Then the not-so-funny thing. Not at all funny actually. September 11, 2001. The world stood still. Like everyone else in the country I spent several days in complete shock and disbelief, glued to my television, not getting much sleep, praying for friends with missing loved ones (I love you AKB!) And then I remembered that Mr. Brown was supposed to be in New York that week and I thought he was supposed to be coming home right around the 11th. So I called his apartment and talked to his roommate and found out that indeed he was booked on a flight home on the 11th but it had, of course, been canceled. Instead he was on a greyhound bus home and the roommate said he’d tell him I called.
What happened to Mr. Brown in New York that day. He was actually in the World Trade Center on September 10th. He and Mark had been on a vacation and that was one of their last stops before flying home. When they arrived at the airport on Tuesday morning someone in the parking garage said the airport was closed. Closed? That seemed absurd. And yet, it was true. The world was a mess and they were stranded in Westchester crashing at the apartment of a coworker they barely new. There were no flights home. There were no rental cars. But there was a bus. A bus that picked them up, drove through Manhattan past the smoldering rubble, upstate and then back across to the Great Lakes region. It took more than 24 hours but they did arrive safely back in Chicago.
And in an unexpected move, I was one of the first phone calls Mr. Brown made after arriving home that Friday. September 14th, 2001. I will always consider that our anniversary. He called and asked me to get together that night. I came over, we ate dinner and in an attempt at irony and humor to lighten the mood we watched Planes, Trains and Automobiles. And it felt like coming home to me. I don’t know if it was the trauma of the week or just that we were both in the right mental state at the right time but things just felt right.
But it wasn’t that easy. I was still casual with the other guy. And over the next week I found that both he and Mr. Brown were calling to go out. ACK! It was like feast or famine for me, I swear. There were either 2 guys or none. But, being the fair-minded person that I am, once I said yes to a date with a guy on a particular night I wouldn’t cancel those plans for a late caller. And Mr. Brown called first. This is not to imply that had he been the 2nd caller that I would have ended up with the other guy – far from it in fact – that guy was definitely not my future Mister. It does mean that he was out of the picture faster than he might otherwise have been.
Things were smooth sailing for us. We were dating. Officially. I went home with him for Thanksgiving and met the family. I went home with him for the extended family Christmas party. We planned a ski vacation to Colorado with his roommate and his fiancée. We went on a long-weekend trip to Galena, Illinois for a prepatory ski trip at Chestnut Mountain.
But nothing ever stays smooth for long, now does it?
1 comment:
YAY!!!
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