House on the Rock

We opted for Starbucks on an uncharacteristically warm Sunday in December. I greeted him with a warm handshake because I had no idea what else to do and I had never felt more nervous for anything in my life. I ordered my usual; he already had his drink. Conversation went far beyond TFA - we talked about life and teaching and what brought him to Wabash and how his professor was my assistant soccer coach and his assistant baseball coach was my dentist. We talked about trips and hometowns and school and I realized his eyes were the color of blue that I always said was my favorite but never knew how to describe. I was floored by his kindness and willed the date (?) (business meeting? informational TFA appointment?) to last a little longer. Eventually, we wrapped up our conversation, ended with a side hug, and headed for our homes. The goodbye was ambiguous: would I call him? would he call me? I told him we'd wait and see, and it was Christmas Eve when he texted and asked if I was...

Joe House does not wait for the oven to pre-heat before putting his frozen pizza in, because if it's already slightly warmer inside the oven, why keep the pizza in a cold kitchen? I think that is the only logical explanation as to why he asked me to be his girlfriend after only knowing each other for eleven days. Even though our story technically starts at the beginning of of that eleven-day frenzy, for me, it started almost a year prior. I found a free afternoon at the tail end of spring break and went to a Wabash baseball game to hang with my friend, Tucker, whose brother was a freshman on the team. Tucker kicked back and chugged a half-gallon of chocolate milk while the announcer called the next at bat: #42, a senior catcher who swaggered up to home plate to the rhythm of a walk-up song that changed my world: I've got an old church choir singing in my soul, I've got a sweet salvation and it's beautiful. It was a song I'd heard dozens of times but never eve...