My husband and I met as kids. Yes, kids. Both of our mothers worked at the same school and they often brought us to school a little early, before the other students arrived.
I actually don’t have many memories of Stéphane as a kid. I was only 5 and he was 12, so it’s not like we spent a lot of time playing together or hanging out. We were just 2 kids whose parents’ happen to work in the same school and we happened to be there.
As we got older, I learned to recognize him as the brother of one of my classmates. But still, there was very little interaction between us. We knew who the other person was but beyond that, we were strangers.
Years went by and I started taking piano lessons. One day, I arrived a little early for my lesson, so I sat outside the door like most 10-year-old children. I listened to the beautiful music came from the small music room. I had never heard anything so beautiful in all my life. When the music stopped, out came a tall dark haired teenager. He walked past me on his way out the door and I realized that it was he who was playing. After that, I went to my lesson a little early every week just to hear Stéphane play. Occasionally, the teacher would even let me come in the room and watch. Those were always my favorite days.
No, I didn’t have a crush. I was just really impressed with his ability to play and wanted to hear someone who was actually that good.
The years past and he stopped taking lessons, as he went off to university. I took lessons for a few more year but decided to focus on ballet and dance.
Time went by. Occasionally I would see him around town. I got a job as a cashier at the local grocery store. I would often see him there helping his mom with the groceries or picking up his sister (who also worked there for a while). I was always friendly when I rang up his groceries. And once he asked to borrow a pen and a calculator (I don’t know why). But he was still just one of those people you see, you know who they are, but you don’t really know them.
That all changed one day in October 2009.
I was sitting in the middle of a very boring university lecture on American history and politics. I decided to be a bad student and check my Facebook. I noticed I had a message and clicked on the little icon. This message appeared.
Would you like to go for a friendly coffee sometime? I’m busy this week but maybe next? How’s everything going?
I was a little taken aback. It was out of the blue. I didn’t even know how to respond to it. I spent the rest of class just staring at it. What was a “friendly coffee”? Is it just coffee? Is it a date? I had no idea. I even asked some friends in my next class about it and they were equally confused. I went to work that night and asked my supervisor (she also knew Stéphane). She got so excited and told be that if I didn’t go, she would fire me. After work, I responded and we set up a date for the following Wednesday.
We met at a little coffee shop and ended up having a 6-hour conversation. As I drove home that night, I couldn’t help but think that was something special about our little “friendly coffee” date.
There’s more to our story!