We got lost on this road, three times.
Twice in the dark and once in the daylight when we were running on empty and desperately trying to find a gas station within 10 country miles. We finally did thanks to the kindness of our cabin host who happened to be on the road just as we were passing.
After we found gas we spotted signs for a fair.
He won me a prize and I gushed like a school girl and I realized this was a first.
“No one has ever won you a prize at a fair before?” He asked while taking in the sight of his girlfriend giddy as hell and even jumping up and down a bit. “Geez… who you been dating?”
“Not the right ones,” I said back.
We got lost on the way home, again. The directions were one road off and our iPhones were dead, as they’d been for days. Finally we made it home to our cozy cabin
that we realized was looking incredibly messy – evidence that we just didn’t have to care. A good place to be, no doubt.
I whipped up a delicious cabin feast that impressed John beyond belief, prompting him to call me “a natural” in the kitchen. My little sister, who may be reading this, probably just choked up the exquisite gourmet dinner she just made. But hey, this looks pretty darn good doesn’t it? Huh? Huh? Come on, Anna, you should call me now and tell me so.
After dinner John Bear, a city boy through and through, built his first fire without burning himself. I was proud.
Finally we both sat down with our wine.
We gazed into the flames and daydreamed about what it would be like to bring Benjamin and maybe some other kids out here someday.
“But they’d all be sleeping in the guest cabin,” he said.
And then, within minutes of each other, John and I both spilled wine on ourselves. We weren’t even slightly tipsy and I think it may have been at this point in the trip that I realized we were running into one too many fated snafus. All of them were minor, barely even changing the course of events or bearing any major consequences but each one a tiny test on our patience as a couple.
The forgotten CDs and book, the getting lost thing, the wine spilling thing and something else I have entirely neglected to mention – the teaching your boyfriend how to drive stick in a pink car with flowers on it thing.
By the time we traded this bridge
for this bridge
with this view
we were ready for whatever New York City wanted to throw at us, but mother nature and a giant pothole decided to screw with us instead.
To be continued…
[If you missed the complete round of photos from this series in the story – click here to view the photo album. There’s an entire new round of photos and another post on the way.]