Stories of Love | My Love Story

My girlfriend and I were riding around town on her old, red moped. Much to my consternation, she was driving. I was almost a year older but apparently that didn't mean anything when stacked against ownership. Oh well.

It was an early Spring day in Indiana. The azure sky and mild temperatures were a welcome break from the interminable winter. Short sleeves and a cowl neck along with jeans were my chosen uniform of the day. After riding around for a while and seeing nothing of interest, we stopped to make a new game plan.

"Where should we go?" I asked.
"I know a hill close by. Let's see what this hunk of junk will do going down hill", Libby said.
Bored, I quickly agreed.

She headed for the edge of town, out near the reformatory. I hadn't been there myself but knew my dad played golf at a course near the reformatory. Sure enough, she turned down the lane that read Smithtown Country Club. It wound around a bit and was lined by majestic old trees. It was more of a feeling than an observation but I felt like we were going downhill. The old moped whined as if picking up steam.

All at once the view opened to an old building I assumed was the clubhouse and then it looked -- from my vantage point -- as if the road stopped in mid air.

Image Credit

With the engine whining and the tires rolling faster, we left the pavement for only a few seconds. When the tires again touched pavement, it wasn't pavement anymore. It was loose gravel. Libby tried hard to control the moped while I simply held on for dear life.

In the end, the gravel won. We laid in a very unladylike heap at the bottom of the hill next to the Pro Shop entrance. Neither of us said anything. I figured Libby, like me, was taking inventory of her body parts. Our thoughts were disrupted when a guy came running out the Pro Shop door.

"Are you guys alright? Anybody hurt? I called 911" he said in a shaky voice. In my semi-dazed state, I recall noticing his eyes -- they were blue. They were dancing wildly with concern but they were beautiful.

I don't remember everything that happened that afternoon. Suffice it to say, the impact of the accident along with the haunting blue eyes -- I was a mess.

After a trip to the hospital, x-rays, assorted bruises, road rash (in a delicate place thanks to my cowl necked shirt), and crutches for 6 weeks, my body was back to normal. My heart, however, had not forgotten the blue eyes.

image credit - Morguefile

My dad had begun to talk about a guy he wanted me to meet. He had met him at the infamous golf course and thought we were a good match. He was the club golf professional. Interesting... I was pretty new to the game but I did enjoy golf.

Daily, dad would inundate me with comments about this guy's virtues, personality and good looks. I would roll my eyes and go hide in my bedroom. What self respecting 20 year old wanted their dad to pick out their soulmate? Geez!

Finally, after a few weeks of badgering, I agreed to call him (mostly to shut my dad up). While at work that day, I rehearsed what I would say on the phone when I called -- editing and re-trying different versions. I'm weird that way. I was uncomfortable with making the first move but with dad pushing it seemed my only option.

Close to quitting time, I had memorized my final draft of the call dialog. With shaking hands, I dialed the number to the golf course.

image credit - Morguefile

The phone was answered on the first ring, surprising the carefully planned dialog right out of my head.

"Smithtown Country Club, Tim Speaking. How may I help you?" he said.
"ahhhhh, is Tim available?" was the only thing I could think to say.
"Speaking" he said.

I took one, long, deep breath and dove into a soliloquy something like this:

"Hi Tim. You don't know me but I'm Bill Jones' daughter. You know, he plays golf out there and calls you 'Knight Rider'?. I'm sorry to call you at work but dad didn't have your home number. Anyway, he wanted me to call you and see if maybe we could get together sometime. He seems to think we are a great match.

I know you work a lot of hours but I am pretty flexible on a time. Maybe we could go to a movie, get something to eat or just hang out -- I don't care -- whatever you think. "

I had heard a few "a-ha's" and "yeses" but continued to barrel through my monologue right over the top of them. After I finished, I collapsed against the counter like a deflated balloon.

There was complete silence for about 10 seconds during which time I figured I had blown it. My mouth has a tendency to do this sometimes -- especially when I am nervous. My heart was in my throat doing a wild percussion solo when he finally spoke.

"Sure, that sounds good to me. Just one thing -- who'd you say you were again?"

image credit - Morguefile

We agreed to meet in the parking lot of a local restaurant that night. I had arrived early so I wouldn't be the one looking for him. We described our cars to each other so I knew it was him when the black Pontiac Sun Fire pulled up next to me. I gathered my purse and my courage ready to exit the car.

The only light came from the lamp post I had parked under. When I emerged from the car, I could see the silhouette of a man's shape making its way over to me. I pasted on a smile and waited for him to join me. I wanted to see what my dad had gotten me into.

As the light illuminated him, I ended up looking into the beautiful blue eyes I remembered from the moped wreck. I remember thinking to myself "It's him! Oh my gosh!"

Later that night, I arrived home to a dark house. When I came out of the bathroom, ready to head to bed, I heard my name. I pushed open the door to my parents bedroom and stuck my head in.
"What'd ya think?" my dad said.
I smiled in the darkness and said "I'm in love."

I could just feel my dad smile.

Three months later, my dad was getting ready to walk me down the aisle of the church to blue eyes. Just before our cue, he grabbed my hand and asked if I was happy. I nodded with tears welling.

"See, father really does know best" he said with a wink and a smile.

image credit - Morguefile

Squidoo is a FREE format that offers you the opportunity to write about your favorite niche topic and make an income or donate to charity at the same time! What could be better?
Click the Squid for more information...