When First They Met (2 page)

Once the game started, I could see he was as keen on the sport as I was. When the referee made a bad call, we both shot to our feet, ready to give the official our opinion about his eyesight problem. Pete Carroll, the Seahawks head coach, must have heard us because he immediately threw in the red flag, challenging the penalty. It took several minutes while the replay ran on the huge jumbo screen. It seemed the rest of the stadium agreed with us as well. By all that was fair, the penalty was reversed.

As if the two of us were personally responsible, Paul turned to me and I turned to him and we high-fived it. He smiled at me and I smiled back. I should have known then that my heart was doomed.

The Seahawks won the game, thanks in part to the reversal of that penalty. Whether we could claim any credit for that or not, Paul and I were convinced we’d saved the game.

I did my best to play the hostess with the Andersons, but they were enjoying the game all on their own without any help from me.

As people started to exit the stadium, the Andersons turned to thank me once again. Paul stood behind me.

“Will you let me buy you that beer now?” he asked.

I hesitated, pondering if accepting his invitation was the right decision or not. He’d already told me he would be in the Seattle area for only a few weeks. I’ve had friends who’d struggled with long-distance relationships, and frankly, I just wasn’t sure it was the wisest thing in the world to get involved with a guy in the military.

Even now I’m not sure what made me say yes. Then again, maybe I am. I’d been drawn to Paul the moment I laid eyes on him. Deep down I had the feeling I’d regret walking away and so I accepted his invitation.

If I had drawn up a list of the qualities I sought out most in a guy and labeled it from one to one hundred, Paul would have easily scored a ninety-nine.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s have that beer.”

We started to walk toward a local sports bar with Mike.

“I’ll catch a ride back to base with Jeremy,” Mike said and waved us off.

“What if he doesn’t connect with this other guy?” I asked, concerned that Mike might be stranded.

“Not to worry, he already set it up.”

“And exactly when did he do that?”

Paul chuckled. “Early on.”

That was interesting. “Hmm … were you that sure of yourself?”

“No,” he admitted, “but I was hopeful.”

We sat in the sports bar with the huge flat screen and watched the interviews with the players and the coach. We’d already discovered that we were both big football fans, so we started off talking about our favorite players and teams. I knew quite a bit about the Seahawks, seeing that I’d been following them since I was barely old enough to understand the game.

“Did you know the average player is only in the league three point two years?” I asked him.

“You mean other than the quarterback?”

“Don’t forget the kicker. They tend to last longer.”

“Right.” He seemed impressed I knew as much about the game as I did.

“Do you like Mexican food?” he asked.

“I do. Cheese enchiladas are my favorite.”

His eyes rounded. “Mine, too.”

“What about Chinese food?” I asked.

“Love it.”

“Your favorite dish?”

He hesitated. “I tend to enjoy the spicy food the best. If I had to choose, I’d say Szechuan chicken.”

Now it was my turn to be surprised. “Mine, too.” This was getting spooky. I reached for a napkin, dug a pen out of my purse, and started writing.

“What are you doing?” Paul asked.

“Okay, I’m going to ask you a question, and when you answer I’m going to show you my answer and see if they match.”

“Okay, ask away.”

“Your favorite author?” This was an important question. I’d dated men who had never read a book. Reading was a passion of mine and I couldn’t imagine being involved with someone who didn’t understand the importance of books and stories.

This seemed to be a difficult question. “Male or female?”

“Male.” I assumed that would be easier to answer.

“Pat Conroy.”

My mouth sagged open. I turned the napkin around and showed him my answer. It was the same.

We chatted about
The Prince of Tides
for ten minutes and then two other books by Conroy. Apparently I had nothing to worry about when it came to Paul being a reader.

“Okay,” I said after several minutes. “Here’s my next question and it’s important.”

He sipped his coffee and relaxed against the seat. “Ask away.”

“Are you married, divorced, or separated?”

“None of the above.”

“Why not?”

He grinned and glanced down at the table. “I guess I’m picky.”

Picky was my mother’s favorite accusation. Oh, boy.

“What about you?” he asked, and it was a fair question. “I find it hard to believe that anyone as attractive as you has never been married.”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

I laughed. “I’m picky, too.”

He grinned. “Any other questions?”

Clearly we had a lot in common, but there was more to life than enjoying the same food or reading the same author.

“Have you ever thought about what you want to accomplish in life?” I asked. This would say a lot about him as a person. Some people don’t ever think beyond the next twenty-four hours let alone the next six months or a year. I’ve always been goal-driven, which has helped me advance quickly in my career.

“Actually, I’ve thought about it quite a bit,” Paul told me.

I sat up a bit straighter.

“I take my job with the military seriously. I’ve been given the responsibility to look out for my team, my men in the field, and keep them safe so they can return to their families while still getting our job done. That’s my top priority, right along with protecting our country.” He hesitated as if he’d said too much. “What about you?”

“Oh, yes. I have a detailed list.”

“Of goals?”

It was in a way. “I like to think of it as a life list. As a teenager, I started writing down all the things I wanted to do in life, places I yearned to see, experiences I hoped to have.”

“How long is your list?”

I was a bit embarrassed to tell him. “At last count, I had over a hundred eighty items written down.”

“Have you accomplished any of them?”

“Actually, I have. I climbed Mount Si, which is close to Seattle, when I was sixteen, and I’ve done it every year on my birthday since then. I haven’t sailed in the South Pacific, but I’d like to do that one day. I did get to New York once on a business trip and I saw two musicals, both of which I loved.” I mentioned three or four other minor and not so minor accomplishments.

We talked more about his job and I couldn’t help being impressed with his dedication to the military and to his men. If I was looking for a man both honorable and decent, then he was staring me in the face. I knew it then and I know it even more now.

“What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever accomplished?” he asked me.

The answer was easy. “Walking sixty miles in three days with the Susan G. Komen Walk to cure breast cancer.”

Paul’s gaze left mine and his beautiful blue eyes filled with sadness. “Any particular reason you chose to do that?”

I nodded. “My aunt Teresa was my godmother. She died of cancer when I was twenty and she was forty-two. She left behind two teenaged sons. It felt like a gaping hole in our family after her death and I wanted to do whatever I could to get rid of that horrible disease.”

“Sixty miles.”

“And I did it, despite the summer heat and the blisters, and afterward I felt like I could conquer the world.” It’d been an incredible emotional high.

“Breast cancer killed my mother. I was a sophomore in college.”

“Paul,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.” I reached across the table and placed my hand over his.

“My dad fell apart after we buried Mom. He quit his job and bounced around from city to city and job to job and then he left the country. He’s living in Australia now. Unfortunately, we don’t have much contact anymore. From what I understand, he’s remarried.”

So cancer had strongly impacted his life, too.

“I’d never had a strong relationship with my father but I was close to Mom. She was the glue that held my world together. After she was gone, I’d hoped Dad and I could help each other
through our grief, but he wasn’t interested. I joined the military and that has been my family ever since.”

“You’re an only child?” I asked.

“I had a sister who died of crib death when she was three months old. What about your family?”

“One brother, Todd; he’s younger,” I said. “He lives in Spokane close to my parents. My dad was one of six children and my mother has three living sisters, so there are cousins galore.” I mentioned how the whole family got together before Christmas every year for baking cookies and making candy, as well as the big Easter celebration Mom and Dad always hosted.

“I’m talking way too much.” Paul made it so easy. He was a good listener; his laugh came quick and often.

“No, please, I’m really enjoying this.”

I continued telling him about my brother and parents. He seemed hungry for details of my rich family life. “Hearing all this reminds me why I’m fighting for our country and our freedom. I wish my own family was more like yours.”

As if he regretted mentioning it, Paul changed the subject and suggested we have dinner. We found a Mexican restaurant he’d heard about close to CenturyLink Field, although I doubted either of us was hungry. We lingered over the cheese enchiladas and talked nearly nonstop until it was almost seven o’clock. I don’t ever recall feeling that kind of instant connection for any other man like I did that first night with Paul.

When we left the restaurant, Paul walked me to my car but didn’t kiss me, although I wouldn’t have minded if he had. In fact, I was disappointed that he didn’t.

“Can I call you?” he asked.

“Yes, sure,” I said and shrugged as if it was no big thing when in reality it was. He waited until I was in my car and had driven away before he left the area. I know because I kept glancing at him in my rearview mirror.

My condo was relatively close. My head was spinning as I came into my unit and turned on the lights. I’d always felt at home and comfortable in my own place, but after meeting Paul it seemed cold and empty. Even that early into our relationship I wanted him with me.

Although he’d asked if he could call and I’d given him my cell number, I had to wonder if he actually would. His life was with the army. He would only be at Fort Lewis another few weeks. Surely he had the same reservations I did.

One thing was sure. I refused to revert back to my junior high days when I was left hoping with all my heart that some boy liked me nearly as much as I liked him. I turned on the television, just for the noise, when my cell rang.

It was Paul.

“I bet you didn’t count on me calling quite this soon,” he said and seemed a little embarrassed. “I wanted you to know how much I enjoyed being with you.”

“I enjoyed it, too.” And that was no exaggeration.

“Are you feeling the same way I am?” he asked.

“I don’t know. What are you feeling?” I slumped down onto my sofa and held my cell close to my ear.

“I’m not sure if I can put it into words. That we were supposed to meet today?” He made it a question, as if hesitant.

This didn’t sound like a line he used with other woman. “Fate?” I teased.

“No,” he said quickly. “I don’t believe in fate or luck or any of that. I don’t hold to signs of the zodiac any more than I do to the advice of fortune cookies. This is different. Way different.”

“How do you mean?” I asked, although deep down I already knew. I understood his hesitation. We were meant to meet that day. And while it might sound dramatic and a bit theatrical, Paul Rose was my destiny and I was his.

We talked every day after that, sometime two and three times. My friends knew that something had changed with me, although I didn’t mention meeting Paul. Not to anyone; at least not right away. I kept that to myself for a long time. It wasn’t a secret I intentionally withheld from those closest to me. If asked I couldn’t have explained why I didn’t want to share that I’d finally found the man I could and would love for the rest of my life.