Every Friday evening, a group of us from work would meet downtown at the local watering hole and lament about our week over a cold beer. On this particular night, my friend Mike was late for the gathering, due to running home to his brownstone apartment to change. When he finally joined us, Mike shared with the six of us a quick story of running into a guy unloading cardboard moving boxes from a car.
It ended up that he was the new tenant in the third floor apartment of Mike’s building and had just moved from out of state. Offering a helping hand and a welcome, Mike invited him to meet us for a drink when he finished. The new neighbor thanked Mike and said that he would meet up with him later.
“I don’t remember his name. Vinnie, Vince, Vic…something like that. I wanted to be neighborly, so I invited him; but I doubt he will show.” Mike said as he ordered his beer.
Mike barely gulped the first swig out of the green bottle before he choked out “Hey! He showed up! That’s him,” pointing in the direction of the door.
My attention moved toward the entrance of the bar. As a handsome, dark-haired, olive-skinned man walked in the door, time began to slow. It felt for a moment that I was surrounded by a bubble where all sound became muffled. Instantly, my breath caught in my throat, creating a dry pocket or lump of air that could neither be exhaled nor swallowed. The flush of chill, the kind one feels when fever sets in, raced from the bottom of my spine to the top of my head, leaving in the wake goose bumps that extended to my fingertips. My cheeks became warm and my heart began to pound so hard, I thought that those around me could hear it. My mind’s only thought: that’s him.
He walked over to my friend and with a quick smile of recognition, they shook hands. Mike draped his arm over his new friend’s shoulder and announced: “This is the guy; he’s my new neighbor!” and looking to his left said “Glad you could make it!”
Introductions began to make their way around the table and one by one, hellos and names were exchanged. When it came time for us to share, my eyes gazed into the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen. I melted into their warmth and kindness. He had an easy, almost shy quality to his hello. “Hi, I’m Vic” he said with a smile, extending his beautiful hand. My mouth was bone dry, yet I was able to mumble a “Hi!”
I placed my hand into his and then the whole world shifted.
This post is linked up with the Red Dress Club. The first and last (bold) lines were given to us and we were to fill in the rest.
I chose to write about the first moment I saw my husband. It is what began a love story that has lasted for twenty years. He is the love of my life and I am blessed every day.
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