How I Met My Man P2

I sighed and settled back into the bus seat. Three hours on a bus was well worth it to see my older sister, her husband Jared, and my brand-new niece who were in Utah for a short visit. The only drawback was that Megan and family were staying with her in-laws, so to visit my niece I had to hang out with a bunch of strangers. Yeehaw. I wasn’t very excited about that part, but a new baby and my sister made it worth it.

My niece, Danica, was adorable and I hogged her as much as possible—but with Jared’s whole extended family around I eventually had to give her up. With no baby to occupy me, I started making snide comments to Megan and we amused ourselves by giggling together.

It was during a little whispering session that I noticed two young men enter the room and sit down on the floor by the wall opposite me. I was sitting on the floor by Megan in front of a couch. I recognized one of the young men. He was Jared’s youngest sibling—Matt. I had met him at the wedding. The other boy I did not recognize and believe me, if I had met him, I would have remembered. Guaranteed. He was so good-looking I was salivating just looking at him.

Casually I leaned over and whispered to Megan, “Who’s that guy with Matt?”

I was not casual enough. Megan grinned in a very obnoxious, older sister, you’re never going to hear the end of this, sort of way. “Why do you want to know?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t recognize him. Is he a relative?”

Megan smiled, “He’s my nephew.”

“Nephew?!”

“Yeah, but he’s older than Matt. He’s Jared’s oldest sister’s oldest son.”

I processed that. These are the kinds of things that happen when a woman has ten children over a thirty-year span.

I eventually figured out the relationship and whispered, “What’s his name?”

“Tim.”

Oh.

Oh did not begin to cover it. Sometimes you become attracted to a person over time (never much time in my case) and sometimes it just hits—boom, and all your senses are on high alert and you start daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss the guy and you’re imagining a secluded corner and trying to figure out how to introduce yourself all at the same time.

To sum up—Tim was hot. As in breathtaking. I noticed right away. Right away. My heart didn’t return to normal speed for a very long time.

Tim and Matt stayed sitting by the wall and I stayed by Megan, trying to be subtle while I stared at him. Eventually, he and Matt left. Major bummer. I was even less excited moments later when Megan announced that I was going out to dinner with her and the whole Barney clan. Another yeehaw. But then . . . I found out Timothy was going too. Suddenly, dinner sounded like a great idea. I spent the whole forty-minute drive to the restaurant trying to figure out how I could fix it so I sat by Tim during the meal. Tim, unfortunately, was not in my vehicle, or I wouldn’t have been able to breathe properly, let alone plot.

Megan made my plotting completely unnecessary because she's a much more effective instigator of action than I’ll ever be. To be quite frank—she’s bossy. There was an hour wait at the Chinese restaurant. I was standing by Megan and Tim was sitting down in the waiting room. Megan nudged me, “Go talk to him.” She might have noticed I was blatantly staring again.

I hedged, not because I didn’t want to but because it was awkward with Megan watching like a hawk. Not to mention Timothy’s entire extended family was also there. Tim’s good looks convinced me. So what if we were being scrutinized on all sides? The boy was hot. I walked over and sat down.

I remember little of that first conversation. I do remember how much I loved his nose. It was perfect. Charming. Beautiful. Wonderful. I love Timothy’s nose so much that I wrote a brief poem to honor it:

Tim’s nose is a little grace,
That makes my heart race.

I also remember his hands, his voice, his eyes. And I distinctly remember when he said he was 19. Pre-mission. A baby.

I was so disappointed. There was no point in dating him then. Tim was obviously too young. Unmarriageable. I had been dating only returned missionaries with marriage in mind for the past three years. I did not want to date boys that had to leave for two years. I was so sad! The anguish! I would have to part company with his nose.

Then we discovered that we’d been in the same grade at school. I was a little relieved. That wasn’t so young. Only eight months younger than me. By the end of the meal—somehow we’d ended up sitting by each other—I had convinced myself that Tim’s being pre-mission was perfect. I had recently disentangled myself from a bizarre relationship with an RM (returned missionary) and I was tired of serious relationships. I convinced myself very quickly that a fun fling, that hopefully involved some fantastic kissing and much gazing on Tim’s nose, was exactly what I wanted and needed. No marriage pressure. Just fun. It was not a hard mental somersault to make with Timothy sitting right there beside me.

Thanks to Megan’s machinations, Timothy and I found ourselves in the same mini-van on the way home. Tim didn’t say much, but he grinned at me periodically so I had hope I was reading the vibes correctly.

When we arrived at Megan’s in-laws, Timothy sort of hung around until everyone else had gone to bed. I made very sure that I was around where Timothy was hanging. Eventually we found ourselves alone. On a couch. At his grandma’s.

And I found out that he could talk. It’s true! It was lovely—and all for me. Tim doesn’t talk for just anybody. We sat on the couch and talked until three a.m. about everything under the sun. What I was studying at BYU, when he was leaving on his mission, his family, my family, and anything and everything in between. Tim even managed to convince me to show him how to dance. Ah, dancing. Dancing involves touching, so I am a huge fan.

It was magic. Dancing to no music at 3:00 am with Tim, and Tim’s hands and smile and nose.

Around four am, Timothy went to his own house and I fell asleep on Megan’s mother-in-law’s couch. I am positive my dreams were happy ones.