Chez V: A Short Story About a Short Story

‘Let Us Ask the Heart’

The fact that mr. V and I were married 7 years ago, today, is a minor miracle. On our first date, he showed up wearing sandals with velcro. VELCRO. Not good. I was prepared to walk in the other direction but his self-deprecating wit won me over enough to accept a second date and so on.

There was the time that I was 5 hours late for a date. Why this rigidly prompt man waited for me, I will never know. And then there was the time that I dumped him. Like an idiot. And then I dated someone else for a LONG time. And that prompt mr. V still waited for me, for a year and a half, to come out from under the ether of that other ill-fated relationship, of which he predicted the demise from the outset.

The irony is that he played me like a fiddle. He figured out that I normally pursued edgy, hard-to-get guys but that at the heart of it, I wanted someone to love and pursue me for me. So he shared stories of his misanthropic 20s as a drummer with a purple mohawk in a punk rock band while also sending me emails full of Shakespeare’s sonnets. He did not tell me about his amazing parents, who met in the peace corps in Africa. He did not tell me that he was handy at EVERYTHING because he grew up on a farm and had a pretty normal childhood. He did not tell me that he wanted to get married and have 2.2 kids and a house with a white picket fence. He did NOT tell me that he fell in love with me on our 3rd date and knew that he wanted to spend his life with me. My sister witnessed the actual lightning bolt moment but just thought he was being weird.

Because he knew telling me those things would have sent me running for the hills. Have you met me? I am allergic to commitment. Instead he played me like a fiddle. Plucking here and there to find the right combination of notes that would eventually resemble a song.

In a last ditch attempt to win me back, he wrote me a short story. About a haggard heart who prevailed over the dismissive chorus of thoughts in his mind that had counseled him to cut off contact. A SHORT STORY, PEOPLE. A short story in which the thoughts wisely said, 'let us ask the heart.'

And in the end, it worked. We were engaged shortly after. And married, seven years ago today. Never could I have imagined a more worthy adversary (which is what I considered suitors back in my singleton days), a better best friend, a more steadfast and level headed partner, or a more incredible father.