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How She Met

The Man Of

Her Dreams

by Robin Smith

December 18, 2018

When I first saw him, I let out a low whistle.  He stood powerfully overseeing the moving of my personal possessions like a general directing an army.  He was tall with massive shoulders and skin that glistened in the sun.  I was dressed in faded jeans with sweatshirt to match, while every inch of my hair was encased in a roller.  I moved quickly to improve my chances of being noticed.  The rollers were scattered as I searched fervently for comb, brush and perfume in the already packed and I made a second “debut” on the rear porch landing.

This time, he was barking orders and the sound of his voice was like that of a roaring lion overseeing his domain.  A neighbor walked by with a two year old toddler and he stooped to shake hands with the little guy, which succeeded in impressing me even more.  There was something about a man who likes children.  It speaks to a gentle spirit and a loving kindness.

As I stood there watching him, my mind raced to think of a way to get his attention, for it had been a long time since I’d had anyone appeal to me so strongly.

Not only was he handsome, but was rumored to own a fleet of moving vans with no wife to share his success with.

Suddenly, my sister’s voice broke my concentration and the sound barrier, urging me “to get a move on.”  Hurriedly, I moved mechanically with one eye on him and the other on the boxes.  As I toted my load, my mind continued to work on “acceptable” ways to make his acquaintance.

Then it happened, as is expected with a preoccupied mind, I missed the bottom step on the back porch and tumbled to the ground with my most prized lamp cradled tight in my arms.  The fall was scary, but the thought of breaking my lamp was devastating.

As I sat there, on the ground, surveying myself and the lamp for damage, a hand appeared to help me up and it was him, who had been momentarily forgotten.

“Are you alright?”he asked with a concerned expression on his face.  “I’m fine.” I replied, as I stared closer at him.  His teeth were sparkling white and his eyes were penetrating.  “Good,” he grinned, as he carefully extricated the lamp from my arms.  “This was too heavy for you anyway.  That’s what you got me for!”

Suddenly, the opportunity burst forth in my brain.  Pouting my lips, I diverted my eyes and pretended to mumble, “Sure, but where will you be when I have to unpack all this stuff.”  Shifting his body to face me, he stared into the depths of my eyes.  Smiling shyly and speaking softly, he said, “I could be wherever the unpacking is being done, if I’m invited.”  Silence hung between us as we stood there, staring at each other.

Brazenly, I stared at the hairy curve of his upper lip, with my lips slightly parted in anticipation.  Crazily, I hoped that he would hear my unspoken wish and close his mouth over mine.  Slowly, his hand began to move toward my face, cupping my chin in his palm.  My heart fluttered as he leaned to kiss me.

The heavens opened as time stood still and allowed us to explore each other in the bright of day.

“Do they know each other”…”I’ve never seen him act like that!”…”Who is she”…were the whispers we heard in that split second of a kiss.

“I’m gonna marry you,” he whispered as he gently pulled away, with a gleam in his eye.  “I’m gonna marry you, too,” I mimicked with girlish laughter.  And marry we did, ten months later on the isle of Barbados and ten years and three children later, I still get excited when I hear his voice barking orders at the kids.


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