I had seen him for months, leaning against a wall, his
cowboy hat pulled low. Thursday nights were college nights and my friends and I
were always there. We danced. We laughed. We had a good time and I eyed the
cowboy in the corner again and again.
One night, he asked me to dance. I
was nervous. He was quiet. We danced then he thanked me and walked away.
Later that night, the bar was emptying
and I was talking to a friend in the parking lot. The silent cowboy pulled up beside us and leaned out the window. Pushing
his cowboy hat back, he looked at me and grinned that lopsided, causing-my-heart-to-pound grin and asked
me for my phone number.
For two weeks, we talked on the phone. He asked every time if I would go out with him but I said no. I had sworn off dating. I had been hurt and disappointed. I was tired of it all. But he wore me down. Finally, I agreed to go.
Six months later, he got down on one knee in the same
exactly place we met. Eight months later, we were married, just two young kids
with not a penny to our name.
It was hard at first. I worked and supported us while he
went to school. But we stuck together through thick and thin.
We had two children. We’ve traveled around the U.S. and world.
He hunted down Starbucks for me in places like London and Dublin. I hiked
behind him in the Grand Canyon.
He’s my manager, my account, my cheerleader in this book
world. He supported me without question and believed in me when no one else
would. He’s talked me off the edge of despair
when I’ve felt down and been there to bring me back to earth when I got over my
head. Without him, I don’t know where I would be. He’s my best friend. The guy
who has been by my side and stuck with me through it all. A great father. An awesome man. He was my inspiration
for Cash (Promise Me Once, Promise Me Forever) and my sounding board for many
more.
I love you, John. That night you asked me to dance was our beginning. But each
day with you since then has been our romance.
