What's Going On Isn't What You Think Is Going On

      I was feeling overwhelmed. My book Smart Women Make Their Own Rules was in its final stages of printing, plans were underway for signings and there wasn’t enough of me to go around.  How was I going to manage all that and a relationship too? 

      “I’m in his sights, I know it.  I just don’t know what I want to do.” I told Smith.  “This is going faster than I thought.”   

      “So why are you resisting what’s happening? He’s offering you what you want. What’s going on?”Smith asked.   

      When feeling out of control, I resort to getting order by making order out of chaos.  An energy zapping messy office bookcase was the target.  At completion many books were stacked up to go to Goodwill, notebooks were tossed and old journals were set aside for my old journal ritual. 

      Journaling is a marvelous tool. I started the practice when my marriage was falling apart, life was too painful and I was at my wit’s end.   As life changes, journal pages fill and they rest on a shelf until ritual time. The ritual is quite simple: I burn each page, scattering the ashes in a special place in my garden.  

      In the cover of darkness, I sat in my garden and watched flames consume each page.  One page was different with columns on it vs. the paragraphs that cleared my head.  “Hmm, I’d better set this one aside and read it later. It looks too different.” I thought. 

      In the light of my cozy room I read the set-aside page. It was titled My Man – 2004.  In two columns were lwords - the values and traits I wanted in my man.  As I read it, I was awed.   I couldn’t believe it!  I wrote it in ’04 and here I am in 2011- reading each word that described Admiral.  

      “So why am I hesitating?”  I ask myself.  “Smokie, you don’t feel like you deserve this guy.  Look at your self esteem.  You asked for this man and here he is.  You are so worthy of this guy.  Get over yourself. “ 

New Friends among Forever Friends

      A few days later Admiral and I attended a fund raiser for Children Inc. to see Seldom Scene, whose banjo player was a college friend.   People that had blown me off chatted easily with me – because I was Admiral’s date. “I remember the time you landed your helicopter on my dock! It was most exciting.” one snooty gal exclaimed.  When I told Admiral how suddenly I was okay to talk to, he laughed and said “Sounds like ‘em.”
      We flew to Raleigh to celebrate the birthday of one of his first grade friends.  I love private flying – no rude TSA! Classmates howled as they recalled Admiral’s antics. There’s a lot to be said for one who has friends from elementary school.
      The next day we returned to Richmond in time for another of Admiral’s friend’s birthday party who goes to my church. Richmond’s small world makes life easy often.  More stories came out about midnight takeoffs to the Bahamas from Florida, how he helped people sleep because he fixed their boat air conditioning on sultry hot nights, and rendezvous in exotic places on his magnificent yachts.   Always the gentleman, he stood by quietly and smiling as people told stories on him with delight.
      The  Smart Woman’s tradition of going to the Urbanna  Oyster  Festival  with friends was coming up.  “Do I invite Admiral?  What the hey, let’s do it." I thought.   Not only did he gladly accept my invitation, he used connections to arrange a splendid parking place inside the tiny town where parking miles from the action is the procedure.  One more time he shows he’s my kind of guy. 
      Wandering through shops, looking at the sites and eating oysters is the activity.  As we chatted and strolled through an art show, he asked me what I was looking for on match. “My last first date.” I replied.  Grinning widely, he said “Me, too. “

When is 'no big deal' a big deal?

      Weeks later over dinner Smith said "Sounds like you're softening on Boats.  You're really enjoying his company now." "Yes, I am.  He's so kind and dear.  He's really a dear man.  Our conversations are so open and honest and from the heart.  No holds barred.  I call him Admiral because he's all about boats. And we agree politically." I said. "But I'm still not sure."
      During another boat outing Admiral said “There’s something I have to tell you. It’s no big deal but you need to know.”  My stomach clinched and my mind raced with all kinds of ideas about what dreaded thing he’d say.  Finally I said to my gremlin Bitch, “Silly girl, be quiet and listen.” 
      Admiral continued “Some time ago I had a cancer diagnosis. I went to the best surgeon and he told me they got it all. Seems it’s back now and I’m looking at radiation. It’s no big deal.”
      “Oh my! I’m so sorry to hear that. What can I do for you? How can I help you?” I asked. Selfishly I was relieved to know my mental gymnastics were just that.
      “I have a doctor’s appointment next week.  I’ll probably have treatments. I hate that it means I may have to be here in cold weather.  I really don’t like cold weather.” Admiral said matter of factly.
      “No one’s going to the doctor with him and that’s not right. This is big and I can’t let him go alone.  I’ll ask him if he wants me to go.  I don’t want to push in where I’m not wanted, tho” I told Kathleen, my mentor in all things single.
      Several days later I was sitting across the desk from Dr. Roundface with Admiral with a list of questions to ask in my Mother mode.  Dr. Roundface covered all points and Admiral said “When do I start? I want to leave for warm weather soon and treatments are keeping me here too long.”
      When I and friends need reinforcement, I email a prayer request to girlfriends to pray for the person and the situation.  Such a note promptly went out requesting prayers for my precious Admiral.  Kathleen’s email came back  “Precious.  Hmm.  Sounds serious.”

Boats, Planes and Convertibles

   “What can you lose?” Smith said to me over dinner one night.  “He sounds nice. Accept his next date and have fun.  You don’t have to marry him.”
    Taking Smith's advice with a fun what-the-heck-can-I-lose? attitude I accepted his next date. It was truly amazing.  At 0-dark-early Boats picked me up and drove me in his antique Model A to the small local airport.  With only a purse and picnic lunch I had prepared in hand he flew us to another rural airport where we got in his cute convertible and drove 20 minutes to his boat!  My head was reeling.  Was this really happening to me?  Pinch myself!
    At the helm  Boats skillfully guided his 35’ power boat from its slip to the open waters of the Chesapeake Bay. Did I say it was a childhood playground for both of us?  The October air was warm, boat traffic scarce.  “Be careful.  Don’t lead him on.  Be clear that you’re looking for friendship and fun.  Sounds like you’re in his sights.” I thought.  
    I asked “Where are you headed?”  “Well, you said you’d like to go to Tangier Island for a day trip so that’s what we’re doing.” he replied.
    Conversation centered on his world built for two, his collection of antique cars he restored himself, numerous boats and planes used for his business and adventures on the water.  The scenery was watery and chanting was esy as I sat by him in the double wide captain’s chair built for two.
    Tangier’s harbor is quaint and colorful, lined with work boats, buoys and stacks of crab traps, tools of the many watermen who ply the waters pursuing those local crustaceans.  
    With his boat tied up at a dock, we strolled along the streets of Tangier, dodging golf carts, bicycles and the occasional truck, taking in the small community.   We talked about life as we grew up, our adult lives with spouses and life today as singles.   "You've been single too long" Boats said.  I didn't know what he meant and I did think about living alone so long I get set in my ways like concrete. 
    Our picnic lunch we consumed onboard after an ice cream stop on land and watched boats come and go.  The ride back to the marina was quick and easy. 
   The boat was putty under his control, docked flawlessly in its slip like it’d never left.    After a short ride to the airport (no security checks here), we were taking off again in his plane.  Destination Richmond  before sunset.   From the air we found many private grass airstrips, cultivated farm land and forests, traced rivers flowing to the Bay, discussed clouds and continued playing ‘Do you know…?’ 
    Boats landed his plane for two flawlessly, taxing to the hanger where we disembarked.  The ride to my house in his Model A was delightful.  He recounted driving it across country from Washington,DC to Seattle with his grandson a few years earlier in the Great Race.  He declined my offer to come in after he deposited me and the empty picnic basket in my home. 
    As I closed my front door, I was reflecting on my date with Boats, a most unique successful man with plenty of toys that ignite my sense of adventure.   As he drove away, I heard  “aahooga”, a fitting “Good night” from an old car in mint condition with a delightful outrageous man who likes to play behind the wheel.   Smith’s advice was spot on – have fun with the guy to have fun with.  

Like Two Dogs Meeting in the Park

       Lunch with a stranger is awkward at best, especially when you're sizing each other up with the dating agenda.  Boats took my coat to hang up, pulled my chair out for me to be seated and asked the waiter to bring some water. He got points for that.
      Throughout lunch we discovered we grew up 4 blocks from each other, went to the same church and he delivered my family's newspaper.  My brother's best friend grew up next door to him.  We spent childhood summers at the river (a Richmond tradition). Being older than I, our paths never crossed.  What a small world - so like RVA.
      After graduating with an engineering degree (I' ve never been able to talk to engineers or make sense of what they say) he began a business making gizmos for yachts.   I'd heard of the business last year from a church member who was moving to Europe to handle the company's Middle East business.
      He sold that business after decades of bounding success, retired and started two more businesses which he gave to key employees.  (Dang!  How generous. I'm impressed.) He told me about his suburban house, winter home in Florida (he hates cold weather) and his future plans. 
      His wife died suddenly in April (they just married the previous December) and now he's single again. He likes being married.  I felt a catch in my stomach when I heard that.  A rule of mine was at least 2 years being divorced or widowed and here I was with a guy whose wife passed away 6 months ago! Yikes! 
      He had gobs of fun toys - motorcycles, antique cars, and boats (How does he have time to play with all of that?) He said his world was built for two and he was one looking for his two.   More points for having a clear goal.  
      "Do you like to garden?" he asked.  "Well, I have a little piece of dirt I dig in." I answered.  He has extensive gardens his next-to-last late wife planted and admits he barely knows one plant from another. 
      We played "Do you know.." and shared stories of match dates. His humor was delightful as he described the match gals and his adventures checking them out.  They sounded too familiar.  It's affirming to know the guys get a similar menu as the girls.   
      I thought "OK. You've done your career. I just wrote Smart Women Make Their Own Rules; the Professional Woman's Guide to Igniting your Power, got a new coaching client and have a keen focus for my future.  You're kicking back and I'm rolling. I don't see much future here."  
      Three hours later Boats walked me to my car. For some reason I kissed him on the cheek. What was that about? I wondered.   He waved as I drove by going to have dinner with Kathleen and tell her about another match date gone south.
      Daily Boats called and emailed me.  Checking caller ID I didn't answer his calls and returned emails 24 hours later.  He was relentless.   Guess he didn't have the same experience as I.

He Really Did What He Said

“ Yes. This is Smokie,” I replied to the man’s inquiry when I answered the phone. 

“This is Boats, from match.  I answered your email the other day saying I’d call when I got to town and so I’m calling.”  It was 10:30 Sunday morning.  Usually I'm at church til 11:30.  Is this Divine Intervention?

He continued “Will you fly to Williamsburg with me for lunch today?” 

“I would love to” I answered quickly.  Then I thought  “How did he know I love flying in little planes?  Oh, no! Suppose he’s Jack the Ripper and I’m in the plane. He could kill me….. You’d better rethink this.”
He continued “ It’s 10:30 now. There’s a window between 11 and 3 so I’ll pick you up.”

“I going to Charlottesville for dinner with friends and I don’t know what time I have to leave.” I said truthfully.  “My friend’s calling later to tell me when to meet.”

“Here’s my number. You call me when dinner plans are settled.”  he replied, clearly a man on a mission. 

With his number jotted on a napkin, we hung up.  I was thinking “Wow! Fly to Williamsburg for lunch is nuts. You can drive there in an hour; how’d he know I love to fly in little planes?” 

I recalled Boats' conversation with Kathleen, my match mentor and friend I was meeting for dinner that evening.  With 3:45 as my departure time, I called Boats back.

We agreed to a lunch meeting at 12:30 at a place his friend owns.  I declined his offer to pick me up – a bad idea for a first totally blind date.  And he could be Jack-the-Ripper.

In front of the restaurant I saw a short man in a yellow jacket and funny cap. “Is this he? He doesn’t look like what I remember. Wish I'd read his profile better.” I thought.

As I approached, he said “I’m Boats. You must be Smokie.” 

“Guilty.” I answered playfully, as we sized each other up, just like 2 dogs in the park.

What did your last Hail Mary get you?

“A girl’s gotta eat, you know.” was my mantra and check point for match guys.    Lunches and dinners with several men were interesting and tested my powers of observation, to say the least.  There was Swimmer, who had shoulders like Arnold Schwarzenegger .  His wife’s death was lengthy and very bad dinner conversation.  He talked about redoing his house to keep busy.  From the shirt he was wearing I can only imagine what his house looks like. 

I called Talker.   He answered his phone while leaving the grocery store.   He ranted with political opinions about every local, state, and national politician.  Attempts to change the subject were unsuccessful as I could barely get a word in edgewise.  After 35 minutes, I was a wild woman, more than ready to get off the phone. His groceries were put away and he was now ready to walk his dog.  Not wanting to be rude (it must’ve been the proper southern upbringing) I jumped in and said quickly “Thanks for taking my call. I won’t take more of your time.”   As I pressed the end button, I heard “Please call again.”

With 2 hours left in my match subscription it was time for my final play.  Not much had changed except an adventure with my intuition and some dinner dates.  With 30 minutes free to wrap up, I scanned the top 6 guys on the list of people who had viewed my profile.    Three met my top 6 checks.  A hasty note to each with “Hi Handsome” in the subject said “You peeked at me.   It’s my last day on match.  Check out my profile and if you like what you see, contact me. Here’s how. ” with email and phone added.   As I hit the send button to each, I said “Wishing you a great life with the gal of your dreams.” 

I had no expectation of results from this Hail Mary. Yet I had to take advantage of one last opportunity  created months earlier when my subscription began.  I had nothing to lose and everything to gain.  And there was no Plan B.