One December Night

The average temperature during a December day in the Chicago area is somewheres ‘round freezing. The nights are significantly colder, natch.

I had been invited to a “party” by long-time friend. She had had a brainstorm. Her close friend had lost her husband in months past and this friend had been having a rough go of it...just weeks ago shattering her elbow in a slip on ice at her local “gas n’ gulp”. So this long-time friend calls me to cajole me into attending a mid-December soiree expressly designed to introduce said close friend to a number of eligible bachelors.

Categorically speaking, I was, I guess, an “eligible bachelor” (at that point in time, anyway). You see, I had suffered through a divorce many months ago. I was tall, thin, well-paid, sober, reasonably healthy and somewhat sane. I guess that’s all it takes to be “eligible”.

I felt no great interest in attending the planned “meet ‘n greet”. I was kinda jaded. Not just jaded, actually...wounded...deeply wounded.
I demurred...but did not decline.

That weekend night found me footloose, so I ventured forth to my long-time friend’s abode.

I rang the doorbell and was greeted at the open door by a skeptical gal with an arm wrapped in a sling. She seemed unimpressed. She was the hostess’ close friend...and I was the dazed “bachelor number whatever”.

The evening was pleasant enough. The host and hostess were dear friends. They were/are intellectuals, gourmands. Any evening spent in their presence was guaranteed to be filled with provocative conversation, beguiling victuals and exquisite liquors.

Long past midnight, the host (three sheets to the wind) cracked open a tome of Lithuanian poetry and read a verse that took my breath away. “Skeptical gal” exhibited the exact same reaction.

I offered to drive her home. She accepted my offer.

And so it came to pass that I transported her home...on a December night when the thermometer registered a temperature in the mid-60’s...a phenomenon I had NEVER experienced before (or since).
We were both transfixed. Somewhat flummoxed and dumbstruck.
We spoke in whispers...enveloped in magic.

And so we sat outside in her backyard sanctuary through the warm, dark night hours leading us to dawn. Both marveling at the mystery and strangeness of it all.

And I asked her if she would like to see me again.

And she said “No”.

And so it began...

The story of the love of my life...

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