Love Story Part 9
The doorbell rang and I quickly touched up my make up. He was here. My heart raced as I heard my mom answer the door. There was muffled small talk before I climbed up the basement stairs to the first level. My cheeks flushed just thinking of the last time I had seen him the week before. He had driven two hours to take me out on a date. Two hours worth of gas, two hours of time, and another two hour drive on the way back home. Since then we had talked on the phone every night and the more we chatted, the more attracted I was.
"Danielle! Danny is here!"
My mom shouted as I neared the top of the steps. Yes I still lived at home. I had just come home from serving an 18 month mission for my church two months prior. I recently started a full time job at a local sewing factory (One of the last ones in Pennsylvania I suspected, since everything seems to be outsourced out of the US these days.)
I rounded the bend and saw him sitting in the living room with my mom, carrying a single pink carnation in his hand. He stood up when he saw me.
"Hi"
He said, greeting me with a hug and the flower. I thanked him nervously and scrambled away for a vase for my flower. He looked even cuter with a striped blue and white shirt which made his oceanic eyes sparkle brighter.
Everything was a blur after that. I remember saying good bye to my mom, while we drove off to a quaint river town by Jersey, called New Hope. We walked to art and antique shops and lovely overpriced products, laughing and joking all the way, linking fingers and cupping hands.
I remember strolling into a handmade furniture store and creaking up the steps to the second story, dying to plant a kiss onto his plump pink lips. We were the only ones upstairs, just us and the delicately carved creations. I'm not sure what was said, but I recall curling into his arms and reaching up for a kiss. Thankfully he returned the gesture. Mmm, it was nice.
I was rushing again, trying to speed my way through a relationship. I used to be different. There was once a time I waited to kiss anyone or determine whether I truly liked them after the third date. We hadn't gotten half way through the first date and I was already handing out kisses. I was in trouble. I liked him...a lot. And I was very attracted to his easy going personality and handsome good looks.
We had a nice dinner outside on the veranda and walked some more, getting to know each other's likes and dislikes, hobbies and goals, life's dreams and failures. I was hooked. The ride home, the kiss at the door, the phone call on his way home, was perfect.
That evening I lay on my pillow content and lost in the day. How could I feel so different from a week ago? Was this it? Was he the one?
"Danielle! Danny is here!"
My mom shouted as I neared the top of the steps. Yes I still lived at home. I had just come home from serving an 18 month mission for my church two months prior. I recently started a full time job at a local sewing factory (One of the last ones in Pennsylvania I suspected, since everything seems to be outsourced out of the US these days.)
I rounded the bend and saw him sitting in the living room with my mom, carrying a single pink carnation in his hand. He stood up when he saw me.
"Hi"
He said, greeting me with a hug and the flower. I thanked him nervously and scrambled away for a vase for my flower. He looked even cuter with a striped blue and white shirt which made his oceanic eyes sparkle brighter.
Everything was a blur after that. I remember saying good bye to my mom, while we drove off to a quaint river town by Jersey, called New Hope. We walked to art and antique shops and lovely overpriced products, laughing and joking all the way, linking fingers and cupping hands.
I remember strolling into a handmade furniture store and creaking up the steps to the second story, dying to plant a kiss onto his plump pink lips. We were the only ones upstairs, just us and the delicately carved creations. I'm not sure what was said, but I recall curling into his arms and reaching up for a kiss. Thankfully he returned the gesture. Mmm, it was nice.
I was rushing again, trying to speed my way through a relationship. I used to be different. There was once a time I waited to kiss anyone or determine whether I truly liked them after the third date. We hadn't gotten half way through the first date and I was already handing out kisses. I was in trouble. I liked him...a lot. And I was very attracted to his easy going personality and handsome good looks.
We had a nice dinner outside on the veranda and walked some more, getting to know each other's likes and dislikes, hobbies and goals, life's dreams and failures. I was hooked. The ride home, the kiss at the door, the phone call on his way home, was perfect.
That evening I lay on my pillow content and lost in the day. How could I feel so different from a week ago? Was this it? Was he the one?
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