She came highly recommended – like a great book, a fine restaurant, or a good plastic surgeon. Her name was Delilah, and our mutual friend, Nina, wanted to hook us up.
She described Delilah as a great beauty, with intellect and insight.
“She’s your muse,” said Nina.
I wasn’t falling for the hype. I didn’t want to go on a blind date. But Nina wouldn’t let up. She was sure that Delilah and I were perfect for each other.
I sighed and told her I’d think about it.
“Don’t think about it. Call her,” she insisted. “Fate doesn’t wait.”
All couples have the story of how they met. Ours comes with a small bit of fate – if you even believe in that sort of thing. It was Christmas-time and the charity I worked for was throwing a small bash to thank our local volunteers and meet some of our vendors. It even included an uptight board member or two. My future husband-to-be was not officially invited. He had other plans that night; however, his date canceled at the last minute to finish her holiday shopping. So, he called his good friends, Peter and Jo, to see what they were up to. Jo, being Jo, invited him to join them at my party. They were only about 15 minutes ahead of him and, she cajoled, the charity was chock-full of single women. She was not lying about that. Ten of the eleven employees were young women. Of course, since she had never met any of us, she did not vouch for our attractiveness.
As my husband and I celebrated our 14th anniversary, I realized that my first marriage lasted exactly 14 years. Heading into our 15th year, I have every expectation that I will beat my personal best. And things look promising. So after a total of 28 years in marital experience, you would assume I've learned something about love.