You may want to relax there in front of your computer, maybe grab a nice, fuzzy blanket and a cup of hot cocoa. I don't care if is IS the middle of summer. Nothing beats hot chocolate and a good story. :)
(Disclaimer: Quotes aren't word-for-word. My memory isn't THAT good. It's just to help the reader get the jist of what was said as well as good storytelling.)
It was a beautiful Sabbath. I'd attended choir, been uplifted by wonderful speakers, and partaken of the sacrament. My family and I also went to my grandma's house for a traditional Sunday family get-together. Nothing could get better, right? Well, perhaps not, but I was also invited to a surprise social for a friend in the ward's birthday. Turned out she didn't like surprises. Go figure.
So there I was, sitting in the half-darkness of evening, crammed with a group of people into a corner and rather excited to finally be part of the "surprise" part of a surprise party. I backed up, a rather silly grin on my face, when *bonk* I bumped into somebody behind me. Trying not to be embarrassed, I turned around to apologize and surprised myself by not recognizing the crash victim. I'd only been in the ward for a year, but I was very active in all the activities and events that went on, so I felt I knew everyone. Or, at least enough to know who was new and who wasn't.
Then there was my perception of guys. You see, even when I was little I couldn't care less what a guy looked like. (Don't roll your eyes, it's true.) As a matter of fact, I found good-looking guys to be arrogant and annoying, mostly just because of the mobs of girls that seemed to follow them everywhere. Unfair? Yeah, probably. This perception also caused me to have no thoughts about this guy I'd bumped into whatsoever other than the desire to help him feel like part of the group. Well, that and I was waiting for a missionary I thought couldn't be topped. So all my "romantic energy" was focused elsewhere. Seriously, it didn't even register that this guy was good-looking... Until he opened his mouth.
"Whoops! Sorry about that." I said.
He grinned. "No problem."
A bit of silence. (We were still waiting for the guest of honor)
"My name's Regan Jensen, by the way."
"I'm Mario Guerra."
Italian? (Actually, he is 1/16 or 1/32 Mexican) I smile. "Mario, huh? Bet you get a lot of jokes. How do you say your last name again?"
"Guerra. G-U-E-R-R-A"
"Wait, so Gwerra?"
"Nope, just Gehra. Makes it easier."
"I see."
I went on to find out that he'd moved in the month before and had been homeschooled. That piqued my interest. It had been a while since I'd met another homeschooler, though I was still a little wary. Some homeschoolers did bare minimum studies before playing video games the rest of the day, which is fine, just not the type of person I would have been romantically interested in. Then there were other homeschoolers who had a bit of an elitist mentality. Understandable, since they were very intelligent people, but still not someone I'd be interested in.
This guy, however, was neither. We could talk about the same books (the ones with great morals and teachings without being utterly dry and solely intellectual), had many of the same ideas, but what really started to win me over was when he started to tell me what he wanted to do with his career and why.
"I'm selling alarm systems right now, but I'd like to get into something called wholesaling," (This took me forever to understand what it was) "and then retire in five to ten years to start my own company. I just don't want to have to worry about money and be able to focus on more important things, like my family."
Yeah, the guy knew exactly what to say.
We talked the entire night. I hinted at needing a ride home and he volunteered, asking me out for lunch that Thursday. (I worked in the evenings and so couldn't do dinner)
You know, I wish I could say that our first date was magical and that we knew right then that we wanted to marry each other, but what's a good story without plot twists? The date was a disaster. Mario Guerra, the man who can talk to anybody, couldn't get a word out of me. I was shut as tight as a clam, scared stiff because I knew I liked him and feared the thought of having to not only write off a missionary I'd been friends with since I was eleven, but wondering how the heck I'd have time to date anyone with my crazy schedule as well as remembering my last two relationships that hadn't turned out all that great.
Needless to say, we were both pretty dang frazzled by the time he took me home. In fact, he told me later that he didn't intend to ask me out again. Fortunately, the memory of the one person he couldn't get to talk stuck, even if it was in the back of his mind.
I moved on and we didn't see each other until weeks later at a house warming party. But that was as unfruitful as our date, seeing as another guy was flirting with me. I did catch Mario staring a few times, though, and kept wondering what he was thinking about. The other guy asked me out for gelatto, and I agreed. Nothing came of it. Then, a miracle happened.
One of the young women my mom had taught in Utah had became so close to our family she was like an older sister. She was getting married at the end of July and would I like to be one of her bridesmaids? Would I like to? The answer was a hands-down yes! Could I? Probably not, since all of my money was going to my "Europe Trip" fund and I was very close to reaching my goal. What if she paid for my ticket? Count me in!!
The dress was sent, the ticket info collected, my days at work miraculously covered, and I was off to Utah! The wedding was beautiful, the times with old friends awesome. It was a vacation I sincerely needed. How much? I didn't know until my trip home. You see, I'd spent the last night at the missionary's family's house, since the sisters and I were good friends and I used to babysit them every once in a while. So yeah, I needed a friend while at the airport, someone I could vent to. All I had was a book, so I tried delving into that.
It must not have been working very well, because I did look up at one point in time and who do you think was standing right in front of me?
Naw, you'll never guess.
I promise, I'll give you twenty guesses and you won't figure it out.
Mario? Huh. You're right. But I couldn't believe it. In fact, my exact thought was. No way.
We sat together while waiting for our flight and I found out he was on his way home from his brother's wedding in Illinois. What I didn't find out? He'd caught the garter.
The "coincidences" don't stop there. I'd been reading this book called The Jackrabbit Factor for the past few days. A read given by my mom. So I was starting to try out its theory. You'd have to read the book to really understand it, but let's just say I no longer believe in coincidences. :) Also, our seats were pretty far apart, but when we got to my row there was this lady there in the seat next to me and she looked pretty worried. She told us that her boyfriend was afraid of flying and asked if she could trade seats with Mario, whose ticket happened to be the seat next to her boyfriend. Mario agreed and said. "Isn't that a funny coincidence."
And I, knowing full well how he'd interpret it, said, "I don't believe in coincidences."
We talked the entire plane ride and I introduced him to my family when he caught a ride home with us. Unfortunately, I had to wait another month before he asked me out again. His phone had been stolen and with it, my phone number.
During that month, my mom was starting to worry about me, since I was now involved in two jobs, directing a musical, and a writing class. I was best friends with my visiting teachers, but she said I needed to have some guy friends, too. That was another Sunday and, as I was driving to church, who should I see on the way but Mario.
My thought? He'd be a perfect guy friend.
He got my phone number that day and invited me to a game/movie night he was having with a few people. He said a few people. He didn't say it meant just the two of us. So I brought what I thought to be a good group (meaning multiple guys and girls) Sunday movie about a Quaker family during the Civil War Era. Not the best date movie, but hey. We had fun anyway and built an amazing Jenga tower of awesomeness. We decided to do it again the next week.
The next week, he asked me out. I told him I was uncertain since I still felt like I was betraying the missionary, but, sure enough, the next day I made my decision and invited him to Family Home Evening with the family to let him know. We dated for three and a half weeks, but no matter how I fasted or prayed, I still didn't have an answer to the question I knew was coming after our first week together. In fact, it wasn't until we made a trip to Oregon to visit his family, the first day there, the day before he asked me to marry him, that I knew. I knew so certainly that it was difficult to imagine life any other way.
We married six weeks later, just in time before the next semester of school. Which we didn't end up going to after all since we felt better about moving to Texas first to make enough money so we didn't have to worry about expenses.
Now, almost ten months later, we are expecting our first baby and I fall in love with this amazing man more every day.
May you never doubt, little one. Your parents are completely and irrevocably in love.
