Did I just ask you … ?
When my daughter was little, I was a single parent. My 18-year first marriage had ended in the worst way, with lots of acrimony. There’s no sense in going through all that, though. This is a much weirder, sillier story.
My daughter and I were really good friends with another mom/daughter. The girls could have been sisters, they looked so similar. I’m about four years older than the mom, but we were (and still are) very close. At the time, the mom was pregnant with her second child.
My friend, Sara, had older siblings — two brothers and a sister. She’s funny, kind, and gets my weirdness, which is always a plus in a friend. And she didn’t mind that my job put me in the public eye every day; that kind of thing can turn people off, as you can imagine.
When Sara’s son was about two years old, her younger brother, Matt, went through a bad divorce, so she invited him to come to Denver from Texas. Matt was a goofball, only serious about his faith and little else.
Almost immediately from the time Matt moved to Denver, people started trying to fix us up. Neither of us was interested, so one or the other of us wouldn’t show up to whatever get-together was planned to throw us at each other.
About three months later, Matt and I found ourselves in a situation where we were the only two who showed up for a special event. We were supposed to go with a group, so I showed up in my little red sports car because I knew I wasn’t driving. About 20 minutes later, up comes a big red pickup. The door opened, and Burger King wrappers, coffee cups, and all 6'2" of Matt popped out.
We couldn’t go in his truck, so he folded himself into my sports car, and we were off. We spent the entire day together and weren’t apart from that day. That was on April 1, 1997; it was no April’s Fool joke.
At the end of April, it was late evening, and Matt and I were getting a cup of coffee at McDonald's. He told me his son, who was 18 then, and his son’s wife were moving to Denver from Austin. They would be living with him until they got on their feet.
As I was driving him home, he asked me if I was upset about what he told me. Of course, I said no and answered, “Just so long as they don’t make me a grandma before I’m 40.” We hadn’t talked about marriage, but it had always been hanging in the air. He replied, “Well, I was planning to ask you in a few months.” I said, “Whether you ask me tonight or in six months, the answer will be the same, yes.” Nothing more was said until I dropped him off, and we just exchanged pleasant goodbyes.
I went home, not thinking of anything other than making sure my daughter was in bed and getting into bed myself. I was sleeping soundly when the phone started ringing at 2 am. In a sleep-clouded voice, I answered, thinking it was my boss (he had that bad habit of calling me in the middle of the night, and it was before caller ID). It was Matt.
“Hey, babe. Did I just ask you to marry me?” he asked. “I guess you did,” was all I could say. “Ok, then. Good night,” and click.
Now I was wide awake.
The next day, I went to the radio station to get ready for the show. Tom, my boss and friend, asked me why I was so distracted, so I told him about what happened the previous night. I said I thought I was engaged, but I wasn’t sure. I asked him not to say anything to anyone because we hadn’t told his sister or his son yet.
At 9 am, the show started. The first words out of Tom’s mouth on the #1-rated radio show in Denver were, “Guess what? Sister Laurie is getting married!!!” *facepalm*
The secret was out in a big way. Sara’s phone immediately started ringing, asking her if she knew Matt was getting married. She called Matt’s son to see if he knew, which he didn’t. By the time I got home that night, I had some angry/happy future in-laws and a daughter who was very happy.
We were married 60 days later, but that story — complete with a trip to Breckenridge with 200 radio show fans — will have to wait for another time.
