C
COVID-19, a love story
HOUSE
We fell in love just before Covid came along, and we moved into our house together in April 2020. We moved into a giant house, like one I'd literally driven past 1000 times since I started driving in 1997, and one that I would see and think, "Man, the people living there must have it all."
I'll be the first to admit, I don't have it all. However, I think I'm close. My husband and I knew each other in high school. We never dated, and we didn't really know each other well or hang out, but it just feels like our souls somehow always knew.
It would have been great if his soul had let mine know. Maybe I wouldn't have spent the first two decades of my adult life screwing around. In fairness, I wouldn't have had my daughter if he and I had gotten together sooner, so no harm no foul. Plus, I think our souls needed their wild oats sewn before they were ready to settle down with one another. Nah, I wouldn't change a thing.
WORK
He'd planned to work from home even before Covid, with the exception of when he travels, which isn't much. A couple nights a month, which only just recently picked back up. I'd expected my normal commute from the suburbs and into downtown. But I had the delicious pleasure of working from home with him. Rolling out of bed, coffee together, our Jeopardy calendar, a kiss before he headed down to his basement office. I work from the kitchen to look out at the water - a gorgeous lake view. Lots of pinching myself, especially those first few months.
ENGAGEMENT
We knew we'd get married, and we tried to go ring shopping the same weekend restaurants started closing down in March 2020. We managed to get in for some browsing in May. I looked at a couple I thought I'd like. I'm not a jewelry person. He ordered one, and I knew it came in, because we barely leave the house without each other, and he told me he was going to buy a garbage can, which seemed odd. And he was gone forever and I thought, well, he just obviously MUST be picking up my rock.
Again, not a jewelry person. I didn't need it to be a rock.
It was a rock.
I thought he'd hold off until vacation. I didn't need the perfect popping of the question. I never thought I'd want to get married again at all, but I didn't mind him asking.
One random Friday in July, we went and bought 6-packs of our (hard to find) favorite beer, ate at one of our favorite burger joints (it was featured on Diners, Drive Ins and Dives, guys) and went to our favorite hole-in-the-wall bar.
Fiance drove, and we returned home and retired to our basement bar, playing all the songs we knew we wanted to hear on our eventual wedding day. I picked Dan + Shay's Speechless for one of my choices. He hadn't known the song when I'd first played it for him, but by then he knew the words.
We were on our barstools and singing to each other like we always do. We faced each other and I put my hands on his legs and felt the bulge. Not the "I'm happy to see you," bulge, but the, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you" bulge.
He knew he was busted. He'd gone to get the ring at some point while I was using the restroom. It had been in his office. He pulled out the box. He said he couldn't wait any longer.
In true Leigh H. B. fashion, I immediately said, "No! No, baby."
I only meant no because I thought I was too boozy. And I wasn't expecting it, and I'm used to being in charge of my engagements, or at least I was the first time around.
But what I meant was yes. A resounding, how is this my life?! YES.
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