I’ve been on the phone for hours with Chey. She’s ripped. (Not the 5 beers and two shots ripped, the beating heart pulled from your chest ripped). Her boyo proposed. Her dance-together, grill-together, laugh until you cough or choke together, have mad passionate-the-neighbors-will-report-us-sex boyo. He comes with luggage. A lot of it. I tried to explain to her the difference between a lot of luggage and really, really BIG SUITCASES. That’s another post.
Finally, I pulled the ole soul mate sticker out.
“Yeah, Yeah, we are” “But we’ll always be broke” “and what if……?”
(This is where I think I should be hearing Danny’song, Loggins and Messina... if he really is her soul mate….but that’s just me. I listen. …
“I dunno, baby.” “But here’s the deal, if you love this man and he’s the one you choose, I love him and I wanta like be your maid of honor. Don’t throw the damn bouquet at me, but I wanta be your maid of honor. And if you think it ain’t right, I’ve got your back. And if you ever just wanta poke his eyes out.…. I’ll do it…..”
(I’m supportive like that, go with the flow…….)
Damage control is always saved for later.
He beeps in.
The Soul Mate thing got me going. Hell, you don’t always know it. I don’t know why I even asked her that. Sometimes it just grows. Love does that. Sometimes it just slap knocks you down.….Sometimes you’re wrong. And sometimes you’re right.
These are the soul-mates I know….
Nana and Popdaddy
There are not enough words, enough languages, to begin to explain their connection. She, in her go-go boots and yellow patent leather pocketbook and he, white haired and proper in his three piece suit. Him at the 2:00 card table with his Mona Lisa poker face, and her at Rosie O-Grady’s betting bartenders for rounds.
“Never wear panties to bed” she said. ( Our eyes the size of Oreo’s. )
"Let me tell you one thing child, when you're young you have resources but you don't have the balls to use
them. When you get older, you have the balls to do anything but you don't have the resources.” she said. (Skinny’s string bikini)
They spent lifetimes together. These two opposite sides of the coin. She’d smile at him with flirty eyes and he’d Mona Lisa her back. Soul Mates.
Kimbies and Papa
Oh, love grows. Nah. She didn’t know it the night they met. Or on the ride home, her hand clutching the aimed cannister of mace at his 15 -years -older face. We made her ride with him. He grinned. God, he loved her immediately. Even if she was gonna douse him in chemical rejection if he made the first wrong move.
I witnessed their soul-matedness grow. Watched it. Felt it. Was standing in the hallway for monumental growth spurts. Stop signs. U turns. Dances. Hugs. Silences. Soul Mates.
John and Linda Lou Lollipop
Innocents, in love.
How could they have ever known? All of this?
29 years later?
The phone tweeps. It’s Chey. “He’s coming over”.
" Damn, I think. That means she won’t be meeting the fireman on Friday. "