The (Rest of the) Story of September 7

It was noon on a Wednesday. I had come back to my apartment in between an 11 o'clock class and a 1 o'clock lab. After having lunch, I pulled my trash bag, tied it off, and headed downstairs to the dumpster.

It was somewhere around the third to the last step that I looked up and saw her coming.

Like everyone does at a college of only 1,600 students, I spoke. Probably something uber-cool along the lines of "Hey."

But she went a step farther with her reply. I'll never forget the ring of her sweet voice..."Hi, Todd."

I went a few feet further before it registered. That girl just said my name. Hmmmm.

Immediately the gears started turning. Who was Jenny Tidball? I knew who she was, but what was she about? Who was she friends with? Where was she from? More importantly, who was she dating and how was I going to move in on him?

The answers came over the next few days from the usual sources...friends, classmates, her sorority sisters. From Little Rock. Education major. Seriously sweet. Most importantly - single.

Our paths would cross again over the next couple of days...like Saturday afternoon when I ran into Jenny with Rebecca and they laughed at me for leaving early to "get a good seat at the game," and by the OBU/Henderson Game that evening, I could not take my eyes off of her.

I called her on Monday evening around 7:30 to ask her out. Suzanne answered. I didn't tell her who I was, or what I wanted, just that I would call back. Over the next fifteen minutes - in what could only be described as a fury of phonecalls, runs to so and so's apartment, and estrogen-laced mass hysteria - Jenny discovered (even small liberal arts campuses in the early 2000's had caller id...) that the phone call came from two doors down from her friend, Sarah.

Moments later Sarah's roommate came running to my door to let me know that Jenny had figured it out, she was home at the moment, and she was surely expecting me to call again.

I can only thank the Divine Hand of Providence for this all to have happened, because in those few moments, it occurred to Jenny that I was probably calling to ask her out. She had a few moments to prepare...to not be caught off guard. And more importantly, she had a chance to decide to say "Yes."

Our first date was pretty low-key. I had been cautioned by our mutual friends not to come on too strong. No flowers. Just dinner and a movie.

So, feeling like Mexican was a safe choice, we headed to Benton and Cafe Santa Fe. I knew right away that she had a sense of humor. She seemed to be quite amused with the massive Chimichanga they served me. Our movie wasn't such a good choice. Captain Corelli's Mandolin. Completely stupid. Completely opposite of our taste.

The end of the date was where I knew something had happened. No, it wasn't with the goodnight kiss - which, again operating under the advice of our friends, did not happen - but rather on the drive home. We were talking and laughing so much that we completely missed the exit on the freeway.

I walked her to her doorway, said goodnight, and we parted ways.

September 8 was complete agony. Not wanting to call (again with the friends' advice) until Monday, I casually kept an eye on her parking lot for most of the afternoon and evening. Her car was gone. I was unaware that she had decided to drive home to Little Rock on Saturday morning, and that possibility never entered my mind. All I could think was that she wasn't home and she must be out on a date with another guy. How had someone not snatched her up? I must me competing with someone and her friends just didn't tell me. As it was, she was at home discussing me with her sister. "He's going to call me again...he's going to want to go out again. What do I say? What do I do."

Her sister, cutting right to the chase asked her, "Does he repulse you in any way? Does he seem to have questionable character? Is he ugly? Does he seem to be morally challenged?"

Thanks to my future sister in-law, Jenny was able to prepare for the inevitable second date.

Still, while she was at home soliciting advice, my world was complete agony. All day.

I had plans to call her on Tuesday. Give it a few days, call her, see if she wants to go out again, etc etc etc.

Tuesday was September 11, 2001.

What kind of low-life calls and asks a girl out on the day the world is ending? Or the day after, for that matter?

I waited until Thursday. Again, she said yes. This time we started with Miniature Golf, then went to dinner. We had such a great time at dinner that we went on to a movie.

Those of you who remember the days after September 11 will recall that the networks quit showing violent movies. Everyone was so overwhelmed with terror that mental health professionals recommended a break from guns and explosions.

It was a Saturday night, and Jenny had told me that she was going to Hot Springs with some sorority sisters to see Zoolander.

I was at home in my apartment, flipping between seven or eight feel-good movies...You've Got Mail, Father of the Bride, Family Guy, Sleepless in Seattle...it was crazy.

My phone rang. It was Jenny, calling to ask me if I had seen all of the great movies on at the same time. We talked about it for a minute, laughed about how we were both flipping from channel to channel, and I then asked her why she was home and not with her friends at the movie. I asked her if she wanted to come over and watch something, and she did.

Hours later, her sister discovered that she had ditched her friends to (hopefully) hang out with me. When Jenny told her this, Holly stated - very simply - "My work is done."

And with that, we were inseparable.

Thanks Suzanne for saying "I don't know who it was but he sounded really cute!" when you told her someone called.

Thanks, Sarah and Shannon, for playing the part of the silly girls running back and forth from our apartments.

Thanks, God, for putting me (trash bag in hand) on the course to intercept the love of my life en route to the dumpster.

Thanks, Ouachita Baptist University, for being the kind of environment where you meet your future spouse.

Nine years, and it just keeps getting better.