I had spoken with my parents by phone not long after I had met Kevin, and said the infamous words every parent dreads,
"Mom. Dad. I met someone."
Considering the fact that I had never had a boyfriend before, I think they took it rather well. They flew me home to Idaho for Thanksgiving to visit and I filled them in on all the juicy details.
They wanted to meet him.
During my trip home I also had to say goodbye to my Pastor and his family, who were moving away before Christmas Break. They had been like my second family for me all through High School, and my pastor's wife, in particular, was someone I often sought advice from. I briefly told her about what had happened while I was away at my first semester of Bible College (I don't think she was surprised) and showed her this picture of my mystery man (which I carried everywhere while I was home, and showed to anyone who would look...)
"Oh, that's Connie's son, Kevin" she said. "He was in our Youth Group when we lived in Lincoln."
Ok. Maybe he wasn't so mysterious. I had forgotten that they had lived in Kevin's hometown for several years.
But really...what were the odds? It really made my head spin. I had wanted Kevin to be able to meet my parents and my Pastor and his wife, so that I had the approval of the people whose opinions I most valued. I knew he would be able to meet my parents eventually, but thought he would never be able meet my Pastor and his wife...
...and they already knew him.
So back to Florida I went, with all this fresh in my mind...and there he was. Only a month from being fair game and looking better by the hour.
That last month seemed to last forever.
We still made an effort to keep things under wraps. But it really was ridiculous. Everyone knew. Just look at this picture someone took of us. I am trying to appear nonchalant (with my crossed arms...ha!) while Kevin is doing nothing of the sort and our friends are laughing at us...
Now lest you think that we were the only couple in such a predicament, I must disclose that there were actually a good number of us. We collectively became known as the 4:31 Club. This affectionate label was in reference to the exact time that classes would end for the semester: 4:31 pm on December 18, 1998. Oddly enough we all had plans for that evening...
The closer we got to D-day, the more Kevin and I stopped pretending we didn't like each other. We still followed the rules, but it was tantamount to telling a starving person not to drool over a huge piece of chocolate cake. It was...impossible.
So we just drooled with our mouths shut.
To be continued...
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