Yesterday, Ed and I celebrated the twelve-year anniversary of our first date. I pointed out the significance of the date to Ed and he got a little misty eyed and said, “Yeah, I remember that night so clearly. It was like I was being arrested that night. Three months later, I got arraigned. And then in late July, I was sentenced to a lifetime of incarceration.” I looked at him and smiled and said, “You say such sweet things to me!” So he raised his eyebrow and said, “You know, if I’d committed murder, I’d already be eligible for parole.” He’s such a sweetheart!
I met Ed because my mother knew
he was a sucker he would be a good man for me. Mom said to me that there was a cute young lawyer who was just out of law school and she knew he was single because he didn’t bring a girlfriend to work or church with his parents, so I needed to get dressed up in my new blue suit and come to church with her. So I did. I didn’t get to meet Ed that day, but he did see me from across the church. After church, Mom dragged me over to Ed’s parents and introduced me as her daughter who was of legal age and who would soon be able to bring in a respectable income. No, really, that’s almost what she said verbatim. Several weeks later, Ed came by Mom’s office to ask if I would think he was too old to date. Mom said absolutely not even though I’d never dated anyone nearly as old as he was. Ed got my phone number, along with half a dozen other ways to get a hold of me because Mom wanted to make sure that we started dating. He called me a couple of days later and we talked for about an hour on the phone. We arranged to go out the very next night because all first dates should happen on Wednesdays. Ed picked me up in his white Dodge Ram. We talked non-stop for the hour drive down to Dallas. We had a three-hour meal at a fabulous steak house which was shockingly empty and had the most fantastic meal I’d ever enjoyed and we talked the whole time. There was never an awkward silence. Or maybe I am incapable of keeping my mouth shut. Either way, there was great conversation between us. And, I managed to only drop three pieces of silverware! We then headed over to a theater to see the worst first date movie in the history of movies. The last thing you want to see on a first date is marital discord and faked murders. It just doesn’t set the right mood for romance. You also don’t want to fart in a theater where you and your date are the only ones in the theater, especially on a first date, but I think Ed made up that part of the first date. Or I blocked it from my memory. Either way, I think Ed engages in revisionist history. So after the horrible first date movie (which was a decent movie, just not for first dates), we started the hour drive back home with me yakking his ear off the whole time. Towards the end of the drive, about ten miles from our town, Ed had to pull almost all the way onto the shoulder of the highway and I barely noticed because I was still talking and maybe because I was still a little tipsy and he asked if I’d noticed the SUV weaving all over the highway so I shut my mouth finally and watched as the SUV swerved and weaved and we were glad that there was so little traffic because the driver surely would have hit anyone who got in her path. The SUV went over a hill and within seconds, we saw headlights bouncing all over the night sky as the SUV rolled over and over. Ed slowed his truck to a crawl as we approached the wreck and we were both sure that we were about to see someone critically injured or dead. Instead, the driver opened the door and got out. She was limping and we went over to help her. The glass had busted out of most of the windows, but she was largely unhurt. We stayed until the ambulance came to take the young woman to the hospital and then proceeded back to my house. Ed walked me up to the front stoop and gave me a gentlemanly hug and asked me if he could take me out on another date because he had enjoyed talking to me. At least, that’s the way I remember it.