My oldest son is getting married in less than two weeks. That and the romantic comedy novella I’m currently at work on have me thinking about how people meet and fall in love. One of my favorite romantic comedy movies is the classic When Harry Met Sally, and one of my favorite parts of the film shows clips of elderly couples telling stories about the first time they met. The stories are sweet and funny, and it just makes me feel good to watch them. (And they make me laugh!)  It’s nice to know that in an age when divorce is more the norm than the exception, love can last and does for some people. (See a video of the film clips of the couple stories at the bottom of this post.)

My husband, Jeff, and I met in the spring of our senior year of high school. We were both seventeen. We attended different schools in the same city. One of my best friends dated a guy on Jeff’s golf team. My friend thought we’d be a good match, so she gave Jeff my number. He called one night, and we talked for maybe an hour – an hour I still vividly remember. I was in my bedroom, lying on my orange vinyl beanbag chair, twisting the phone cord around my wrist. (Yes, this was in the days of bean bags and landline phones with spiral cords!) I don’t recall everything we talked about, but I do remember thinking he was funny and maybe a little bit spoiled. And I remember that he said he’d come by my house after his golf practice the next day. I told him I had to work a shift (at Taco Bell!) after school, so he asked what time it ended and said he’d come by after that.

The next day, I freaked out! I’d never even seen this guy before, and he’d never seen me. A million “what ifs” ran through my mind – none of them good. So, immature seventeen-year-old that I was, I didn’t go home after work. Instead, I went over to my friend’s house – the girl who’d given Jeff my number. In the meantime, Jeff showed up at my house, and my younger sister answered the door and had to tell him I wasn’t home. To this day, she talks about how skinny he was in his cut-off jean shorts. 😊 Long story short, my friend called her boyfriend, told him what was up, and he and Jeff came to her house. It was easier, for some reason, having my friend and her boyfriend there when we met. I remember liking Jeff’s smile and thinking that he was easy to talk to. That was unusual for me – finding it easy to talk to a guy I’d just met and feeling totally at ease just being myself.  Oddly, I also remember what I was wearing – brown jeans and a stretchy yellow and white shirt, brown boots. The four of us went riding around in my friend’s boyfriend’s car. (Riding around was a “thing” then. Is it still?) We ended up at a Dairy Queen where we all shot paper bullets at each other through straws. Seriously. What can I say? We were seventeen. Later, back at my friend’s house, Jeff and I kissed for the first time while sitting in the car in her driveway. The next day, my friend told me that Jeff said he thought I looked like Olivia Newton-John. (The young version, like, back in her Grease days.) I didn’t mind hearing that! As they say, the rest is history. We’ve raised two kids, been through a lot of ups and downs, and had some great adventures.

The romantic comedy novella I’ll be releasing before Christmas is entitled Take A Little Risk, and the couple in it meet in a very unusual way that is somewhat more interesting and funny than the way my husband and I met. (I mean, I think our meeting is interesting and funny, but I’m prejudiced.)  I recently saw the final cover for the book, and it’s so fun! I’ll be posting it here soon. When the ebook is ready, I’ll be giving it away FREE to everyone who joins my newsletter, so if you’d like a copy sign up here!

In the meantime, I want to hear how you met your significant other (or a prior significant other). If you’d like to share, send your story to me at  with the subject heading: ‘Cute Meet.’ Even if your meet-up wasn’t “cute,” I’d still love to read about it!  I’ll be posting about your stories in the weeks ahead right here. Don’t worry; I’ll only use first names, or you can give me fake names to use. I can’t wait to hear your stories!



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