This is the continuing story of how my husband and I met and fell in love. To read from the beginning, start here and work your way through:
Now.. Where were we?
Ah, yes. I had just broken up with my ex, he had informed me that it’d be okay if he came home and I wasn’t there, I broke into a panic-induced sobfest and called the one person that I knew I could depend on:
Crying, I packed some clothes, my tip money from work (I worked as a waitress), and some cosmetics and toiletries. And I waited for Josh to come.
A while later, I heard the familiar grumbling of the engine on Josh’s white truck pulling into my driveway. I gathered the things I had packed, plus the money from my tip jar (I was a waitress), kissed my cats goodbye and left. Josh informed me that I was going to spend the night at his parents’ house until Tim got a room ready for me at his place. I instantly became nervous, because I had never met his parents before. I thought it was incredibly sweet and generous of them to offer a room to a girl they had never met before, and on such short notice. We made the trek to his mom and dad’s house, and the whole time Josh made light chit-chat and jokes in an attempt to cheer me up. I was miserable, however, and barely heard a word he said. I asked him if we could please go somewhere and eat, because I was starving. He said yes, but he wanted me to meet his parents first before they went to bed. He looked at me and his tone became quite serious.
“Now, I want to warn you about my parents.”
I looked at him.
“You see, my dad may be sitting around with bare feet.”
Well it’s his house, of course he’ll be sitting around with bare feet. I thought, but said nothing.
“And I don’t want you to be alarmed,” he continued, “because his toes are webbed.”
I looked at him for a second. Josh has always been a “storyteller”. The first time we met, he told me he was born in Costa Rica.
He turned his eyes back to the road.
“And my mom, well. She’s really fat. She’s like 300 pounds. And she is about 4’8″.”
I knew then he was screwing with me in an attempt to cheer me up. I let him go on.
“She has a glass eye, you see, and speaks in a very deep voice. But she’s super nice, and one hell of a cook.”
The tension in the truck broke slightly, and I was able to crack a smile.
I met his parents that night, and both were amazingly sweet people who greeted me like they’d known me for years.. And there were no glass eyes or webbed toes to speak of. After the brief introduction, Josh and I headed to IHOP for a late dinner. I remember it began raining, which was just perfect in my mind. I felt gloomy anyhow; like I had my own personal little black raincloud hovering about me ala Eeyore.
I don’t remember much about the dinner that night, though I do remember at one point an entire glass of ice water managed to be tipped over and knocked all over me, soaking my belly and lap. With a sigh, I accepted this as The Worst Day in History. We headed back to his parents’ house for the night, where he showed me the guest room and we said our goodnights.
I fell asleep that night, feeling sad and lonely and wondering about my future. There was no doubt in my mind that we were broken up, and broken up for good.. But I was still worried about what I was going to do, and where I was going to go from here.
A few hours later, I awoke to what would, years down the road, become a familiar sound but at that moment it was a cacophony of chaos and confusion descending upon my half-asleep brain. Chiming, dinging; ringing noises filled the house as I ascended from my sleep. What in the holy living hell is all that noise? I sat up in bed, disoriented and completely forgot for a moment where I was. I blinked around in darkness, trying to pick out familiar items around me and failing. As I woke up, I remembered that I was at Josh’s parents house and that the noises I was hearing were various clocks going off throughout the living room, hallways, and dining room. There must have been 5 to 10 that went off all within minutes of one another. I rubbed my eyes and wondered how anyone could possibly sleep through that.
I eventually drifted off back to sleep, and slept through ’till morning.
When I emerged from the guest bedroom, Josh’s mother was awake and moving about the kitchen. I glanced outside and noticed that Josh’s truck was gone. A quick look at the clock told me that it was around 9:00 AM…. Josh was gone for work, and I was alone with his mom. Awkwardly, I stood in front of the guest room wondering what I should do. Should I turn back and flee into the guest room until Josh could come home and retrieve me? Should I sit at the counter and try and fill an awkward silence? Would this woman whose guest room I’d just slept in give me the third degree? Would there be a round of 20 questions, and judgements? As I debated, Josh’s mom turned around and looked at me. She smiled, and said,
“Good morning honey. Do you want something to eat?”
I felt instantly at ease, and oddly enough..