I remember the first time we were truly alone together. We were driving to Historic London Town for my first site visit and a meeting with the Education Director. I had known you for maybe a week. As I climbed into your silver Honda Accord, you apologized for the dog hair. I found out later that you cleaned out your car at lunch time after it was decided that you would be driving.
We talked about your dog, Cali, and my dog, Scout – discovering that we both adore retrievers. The conversation flowed. You asked what other jobs I’ve had. I immediately provided you with a (too) detailed account of every job I’ve ever had, including the summer I did not have a job because I was traveling on some grants.
What struck me about you, and still continues to strike me, is how comfortable I feel when I am with you. Yes I was slightly nervous to ride in the car with you, as evident by my thorough tale about my past jobs, but I never felt like I had to pretend to be someone I was not.
We arrived at London Town and were shown around the buildings and a wonderful new exhibit. Clearly in the beginning stages of a severe crush, I was very conscious of where you stood, what you said, and when you smiled. I felt as if I was constantly dancing around during our tour in an effort not to appear too besotted. I limited myself to covert (or at least I hope they were covert) glances at you about every couple of minutes (or seconds…).
You drove me back to my car that day. We lingered, neither of us wanting to say goodbye.
Friday arrived and the interns gathered in the lobby to walk into Annapolis together. I tried not to seem overly excited when I saw you push open the search room door to join the growing group.
After a beautiful walk, the group of interns and staff arrived outside the gates of the Government House.
Once inside, I somehow ended up in your tour group (one of two interns among a group of Archives staff). In the dining room, you took the time to point out a fountain to me. I looked in vain out the window but I do not think I ever saw it, though I told you I did. I remember trying not to grin like a fool after you did something as little as pointing something out to me.
The group of us walked to the State House and had a very neat tour given by Archives staff. The best part was our chance to go up into the dome to see a gorgeous view of Annapolis.
After our tour, it was definitely time for lunch. Kathy and I joined you and some colleagues for lunch at Chick and Ruth’s on Main Street. You ordered a crabcake sandwich and a coke. I ordered grilled cheese and a refreshing glass of lemonade. We dawdled at lunch and met other coworkers at the docks to see the HMS Bounty.
Somehow on our walk back to the Archives, we both lingered behind the group to walk together. You asked me about my horses and actually seemed interested. We talked more about Cali and your background. When we reluctantly entered the cool lobby, you asked me, quite out of the blue, if you could drive me to my car at the end of the day. Of course I agreed.
The hour eeked by. I anxiously checked my computer clock waiting for the numbers to show 4:30. I could not stop smiling and thinking about why you offered to drive me to my car. As you know, I overthink everything, so of course the gears in my mind were whirring.
I cannot remember what we talked about during that short car ride, but I remember reluctantly climbing out of your car and waving goodbye. It was official – I was smitten.