This is a picture my dad took of us in 1973 when we were three years old. Mark is riding my tricycle and I'm riding his Big Wheel (which had that cool brake on the side!) When my grandparents moved from Pleasure Avenue on the bay they still rented across the street (the bottom floor of a duplex where our first apartment ended up being upstairs) so Mark and I stayed in touch. He gave me my first kiss in 1982 at 9 years old after explaining the birds and the bees to me (which I didn't fully understand at the time but made my belly feel weird). He smelled like the oranges he'd been peeling as we'd watched King Kong in the den of their house.
My grandparents ended up renting several streets down for a few years so we lost touch until the summer of 1986 when our family was invited to the Williams' house for Night in Venice, the annual boat parade. I was scared to death to see him...but there he was. I remember him being perched on a piling watching the parade, unaware that he was also watching me! As the night went on he grew bolder, took a few pictures, and we ended up talking. We "dated" for the rest of that summer, kept in touch during the year, and dated again the next summer before 9th grade. He took me on my first real date to a movie theater. He smelled like chicken, having spent the afternoon at Campbell's Seafood House when his job had something to do with peeling chicken skins. After one particular date, for whatever reason, we didn't speak again until 1996. There hadn't been a fight or anything...I guess we just grew up and moved on.
During the 9 year absence, he grew into a beautiful man that I spied serving at the Crab Trap on Easter when our family went to eat. He never came over to the table so I wasn't sure he even knew I was there (he did, in fact...he waited until I'd gone to the bathroom to come over and say hello). Within the week I'd written him a letter, sent cookies, and we agreed to meet for dinner a few weeks later "just to catch up" (he had a girlfriend, after all). That dinner was all nerves and information as we pretty much opened up about ourselves and put it all out there. I was breaking out of my confining Liberty years, seeking to find myself within safe standards but feeling like I'd missed out on a lot (of what, I wasn't sure)...he was winding down from several years of carefree living and, perhaps unbeknownst to him, seeking some kind of stability or something different. We seemed to meet in the middle. Within a few weeks he'd broken up with his girlfriend and thus, we were an "us".
That summer was one I remember fondly. I wasn't working aside from a few babysitting jobs to keep gas in my car and had begun grad school (via VHS tapes) so I had all kinds of free time. I spent every available minute I could at the shore. Being with Mark had opened up a whole new world of things. I rediscovered meat (having restricted my diet to chicken and seafood only for years) and the deliciousness of Market Cart lunches. We made a few traditions, one being that I'd arrive at his house mid-morning with a coffee, peach Snapple, and Junior Tasty Kake to welcome the day. We'd spent the day hanging out, doing this and that until he had to go to work, where upon I'd "do school" in his room and hang out with his family many times until he was finished working. I'd pick him up, often around midnight, and we'd hang out till the wee hours, often drinking wine on the dock and pondering the mysteries of life.
I attended my first Catholic mass, as was his background. I was standing next to his mom, confused and in awe of all the responses and stand up/sit down/kneel rituals I wasn't used to. When it came time to say the Lord's Prayer I was relieved that there was something I knew so I said it with gusto, unaware that there is a pause for the priest after "but deliver us from evil", my hearty and solo "For Thine" resulted in Mark's mom grabbing my forearm in a vice grip to silence me. I attended parties--family gatherings, a toga party (shut down by the cops even), Night in Venice...We church hopped, Mark understanding that faith was important to me and we discussed the Bible/God etc. often. We saw Tony Campolo twice at the Tabernacle, the second time being the one where Mark made a decision for Christ. We ate at all kinds of restaurants where I discovered appetizers--something I don't really recall ever having eaten before when dining out. We rented more movies than I can remember, watched Discovery channel, and learned that when alligators wanted to get frisky they raised up their heads to show their throats (which became a secret sign for us, ha ha!) We sat on the deck with various varieties of folks, during the day and at night...we fished, we visited, we fooled around, we talked and talked and talked...and talked some more. By mid-September, after I'd caught the bouquet at my brother's wedding the week before, we were engaged.
That was the summer of "us"...learning, discovering, weighing out, chancing, challenging, and settling. I came away from the summer of 1996 about 20 pounds heavier, $2,000 poorer, but a whole lot fuller and enriched. I also came away in love and with an assurance that I had met (again) the man that I would marry. And now, 19 years later (!?) we are still "us"...different and yet the same. One of our mantras ever so often to each other is, "I like us"...when we're being goofy or just hanging out, being lovey or running errands...Yes, "us" is good..."us" is great...and I thank God every day for "us".
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