I found my future husband holding a sign on the side of the road

Before I start telling stories of all my dirty little secrets (Don't get excited, they won't be Fifty Shades dirty), I wanted you to get to know my dys'fun'ctional family.

My husband's name is Grant.  I've known him since I was 5 years old.  Grant used to hide under the table and watch me practice dancing at his mother's dance studio.  In junior high, Grant was my boyfriend and took me to the fair.  I remember him holding my hand because his pinkies were crooked. He swears he kissed me, but other than the deformed pinkies, so either he has me mixed up with someone else (He said that's why he called all his women 'baby', to keep from calling them the wrong name) or there was nothing memorable for me at least.  As time went on, we went our separate ways, but always were friends but nothing more.

I'll skip all the gory details of my first marriage and pick up the story 10 years later.  I was going through a gut-wrenching divorce and was on my knees praying that God would give a a concrete sign that I was doing the right thing in getting a divorce.  In the middle of my prayer, the phone rang and it was my ex, drunk and cussing me like so many times before.  I got off my knees, dried my eyes, and said, "Thank you, Lord," and that was that.  

My niece called me the next day and asked me to go to her dance recital.  I had a date lined up for that night, but decided I would run by the recital for a minute before heading to Tupelo.  Well, I ran in and sat down next to my brother and sister-in-law, quickly looked around, and saw Grant sitting a few rows behind me watching his daughter dance.  My sister-in-law whispered and told me that she thought his wife had left him and I should give him my number.  Well, I thought about it the whole time I was there, and when I left I stopped by his seat and dropped the 'I'm single and ready to mingle' vibe on him.  He told me to call him sometime (like I would EVER call a boy first) and I gave him my number and said he could call me if he wanted to go out but I wouldn't call him.  I headed to meet my other date and didn't think about it again. 

Well, the other date was just a 'meet for drinks' and he was a joke, very cute and very smooth, but I was on a mission for a husband, so I wrote him off and thought of Grant again.  I had known him all my life, he would be the perfect 'break-in' date, after all, I had been with my ex 13 years, I needed to wade before I swam, so I decided when he called, I'd go out with him.  He didn't call- not that night or the next day.  I got to thinking if he didn't hurry up, my kids would be back from their dad's and I wouldn't be available for another week, so I broke my rule and called him.  As soon as he picked up the phone, I said, "My kids will be back in 2 days, so if we don't go out tonight, we won't get to go out." Oh, Lawd, what jingle bells I had grown!

I get all cute, shaved legs, put on matching undies (like it mattered, he'd never see them on a first date, blah, blah, blah), and….nothing…..waiting…..waiting….45 minutes later, he shows up.  I wanted to give him a 'who the heck are you, I'm very desirable etc. etc' but when I opened the door, I had to reign myself in because I almost laughed in his face.  This guy I knew for nearly 3 decades, the most preppy, athletic, all-American looking guy EVER and he is standing there in painter's pants, a t-shirt with a gecko on it, and open-toe sandals!!!  Despite the surfer dude being late, I got in his Malibu (yeah, surfer dude drove a Malibu) and sat on a PILE of papers in the passenger seat that he didn't bother to move before he got there.

The date went great.  He found it amusing that I told him I needed to interview him to see if he was husband worthy before I spent time dating him.  I explained that I was approaching 30 and had 2 kids, so I was looking for a husband, not a good time, I could find plenty of one and not so much of the other.  He caught on quickly and decided to interview me back.  Since we met all the important criteria, we moved forward at lightening speed.  3 months into the relationship, I got cold feet.  I had just gotten out of a long relationship, never lived on my own before, never went to a bar legally (illegally we won't talk about), and all the other things that happened in the lives of people between 15 and 28 that weren't married with kids.  I broke it off.  

I called him on the phone, said I wasn't ready to give my heart to anyone, and hung up.  He called, I didn't answer.  He came by, I didn't answer the door.  That was it for me.  The next morning, I headed off to work.  I got off the bypass on Veteran's and as I approach the baseball fields, I see a blue car….then I see a guy standing on the road…..and there's a little girl there too….he's holding a sign….It's Grant!!  I slow down and read the sign.  It simply said, "I love you."  Beside him was his little girl and she had picked flowers and made a bouquet.  I stomped on my brakes, turned into the parking lot, and that was it for me.  At that moment, I knew that for better or worse, no matter what, this man would never break my heart.  

3 weeks later, he gave me a ring.  1 week after that, I gave up planning a wedding because every place I picked he had been with some hoochie or another before.  1 week after that, he told me he had the wedding planned and all I needed was a dress.  5 months after my break-in date, we were married in Lake Tahoe.  Now, don't get all gooey on me because it wasn't all hearts and flowers.  Grant was late getting us to the airport and we sat not speaking for 5 hours waiting on another flight.  I thought it was a sign from God that we weren't supposed to marry.  He thought it was a sign from God that the plane would crash, so he basically saved my life.  13 years later, it seems we both got our signs wrong.