I Married Him Twice - Chapter One

The first of a three chapter story.

It wasn't long after I'd met my Beloved Mystery Man in Milan, that I knew-- over salad-- I'd found my soul mate and was hopelessly in love. But I didn't let on to anyone, especially him!

While we were still in the “just dating” stage of our courtship, we were not seeing other people. But, we played the “dating” game with him calling me for a “date” numerous times a week and every weekend. I liked being “courted” and the relationship evolved slowly, but at a pace we were both comfortable with.

Neither of us was anxious to jump into a serious relationship, but there was no denying the spark between us. So we made a point of taking our time getting to know each other and building a trust and a meaningful relationship one “date” at a time.

Then, out of the blue, I got the dreaded phone call no daughter ever wants to get. My Dad was on his way into surgery for just-discovered cancer. The words still ring in my head leaving me reeling with helplessness. I was at work when the call came in and remember sitting at my desk for a full hour not knowing what to do. Then I called Beloved and cancelled our date for that evening. My Dad’s illness was simply too shocking, too painful and too personal for me to cope with. My usual instinct to “withdraw” and “put my guard up” immediately kicked in.

Beloved was having none of it. Instead, he said he would meet me at my apartment at 7:30pm which was when I usually arrived home from work. He greeted me in the driveway with open arms and no judgment as I cried uncontrollably.

Being “weak’ was not my usual self and I was embarrassed to be so needy and weepy in his presence. Despite my feelings for him, we’d only known each other for ten months and I’d never cried in front of him before. Eventually he helped me up the stairs, unlocking the front door for me, then settled me onto the sofa with a blanket and a glass of wine. When he disappeared out the back door I wasn’t phased and thought he’d had enough drama for one night.

Thirty minutes later, I dried my eyes and found the dining room table set with my favorite salad from a local gourmet restaurant. Beloved knew I had not eaten all day and this was my version of “Los Angeles comfort food”. It was one of the kindest and most thoughtful things anyone had ever done for me. It took a while for my first bite, but eventually I calmed down enough to start eating.

That night, as I told Beloved stories about my father, whom he’d never met, I knew I was in love. Of course I was also devastated and pushed the feelings as far back in my mind as I could, but it was very real and there was no turning back for me.

A few months later, for Valentine’s Day, I gave Beloved a beautiful salad bowl, which he thought, based on his expression, was a strange gift. No, I did not explain the significance of the salad he’d brought me, and insisted I eat, on that fateful night. It wasn’t until years later, after we were first married, that I told him this story of exactly when I knew I was in love with him.

Dad eventually recovered from this go ‘round with cancer but it was a long and difficult haul for him. Sadly, it was not the last time I got one of those awful phone calls about Dad’s health. Each time, over the next five years, Beloved brought me another salad and held my hand through the process.

Stay tuned. Chapter Two on Wednesday

Welcome to The Fifty Factor - Joanna

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