But Grant was a great guy and insisted on not living together until we were married. I lived in my mediocre apartment and he lived in his, four blocks apart. I was the youngest of three and the only girl.įor a year, I'd been dating my boyfriend, Grant, and if my blabber-mouth parents were correct, he was soon to be my fiancé. For someone my age, it was odd to have married parents who still liked each other.
Most of my family lived there, so they appreciated my closer proximity. The ceremony wasn't until the next day, but I'd flown in early so I could go out with her and our friends.Īfter I graduated the previous May, I moved back home to Seattle. We met when we were both attending culinary school at The Art Institute of California in San Francisco, when I was in my second year and she in her first. I'd flown into San Francisco to attend my dear friend, Micah's, graduation.
That word alone made me want to take a shower. There wasn't much that could make me feel more disgusting than a plane ride coupled with that wet and dry moistness you get from being in and out of the rain.
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