When a friend of mine was stationed overseas in the army, he met the young daughter of a French farmer. The generous farmer offered my friend, Brian, a home-cooked meal, and he accepted. That evening, and several evenings after, he dined with the family and slowly became smitten with the young girl. But she was only 14, and only Elvis Presley was allowed to indulge such fantasies.
Fast-forward 30 years. Brian was back home in the States, divorced, and the father of two girls. On a vacation to France, he decided to look up the farmer who was, by now, an elderly man, but he still remembered Brian and invited him over for dinner.
“How’s your daughter?” Brian asked casually, as they were sipping port in the family vineyard after dinner.
“You can ask her yourself,” the farmer said.
“She’s dropping her son off later this evening.” Which she did, and she nearly lost her breath when she saw Brian standing in her father’s doorway. She, too, was divorced and had never forgotten her first crush. The years melted away, and now as two adults, they fell in love. This summer marks their 20th wedding anniversary. “It was just meant to be,” Brian often says, sighing.
So leave the phone alone. Get out of the house. Get on with your life and be pleasantly — and genuinely — surprised when he or she really does call.
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