Chapter 2 — Part IV
I decided to remarry eventually if I could find the right woman. I doubted that a “Sharon” would just wander into my life, as had happened the last time Linda and I separated. If I wanted a new relationship, I would have to go out and search.
{The account of the events leading to the present circumstances begins here:}
My wife, Linda, and I were separated in contemplation of divorce. She was having an affair with Paul, a married man with two children. Paul’s wife, Regina had discovered the affair and evicted him from their home. Paul and Linda were free to continue their relationship unimpeded, but, according to Linda, Paul was losing interest.
Our daughter, Mary Ann, a high school junior, was pregnant and set to become a single teen mother. Linda and I had developed a friendly relationship and were prepared to assist Mary Ann in raising our granddaughter. Linda had rented a small apartment. Mary Ann was residing with her mother. She often visited me, borrowing her mother’s car. Linda did not own a computer and Mary Ann would frequently come to my place to use my computer for school assignments. Despite the separation, Mary Ann still had two active parents.
I realized the best way to meet a suitable mate is to participate in group activities I enjoy; that way, I could meet people who enjoy the same activities. There was one problem with that plan. What I enjoyed most was coming home from work, sitting in my Lazy Boy recliner, watching TV, and reading the newspaper. How would I meet someone doing that, I wondered? As that thought crossed my mind, I glanced downward and noticed that the newspaper in my lap was opened to the classified ads section. In one corner of the page was a section devoted to people looking for mates. “Oh!” I thought, “That’s how”
That kind of newspaper dating column was the precursor to internet dating apps which did not exist at that time. They had a bad reputation, similar to the reputation held by modern internet dating apps.
In some ways, the newspaper dating column differed from dating apps. There were no pictures, briefer profiles, and no swiping right or left. Unlike internet dating apps, there were approximately an equal number of men and women. If you saw an ad that interested you, you would leave a message on a voice mailbox, including a phone number where you could be reached. The person who placed the ad could decide whether they wanted to contact you.
I read through the ads and picked the one that seemed most promising. I called and left my first message. She contacted me. I arranged to meet her on Friday at the end of the workday, in the center court of our local shopping mall. I told her I would be wearing a Hawaiian shirt and holding a flower from my garden. We had a nice conversation, but I found no romantic connection. We met a few more times but our interest in each other faded.
I did not expect to meet my next true love through this method. I thought I would have fun meeting new people and socializing a bit. That was it. I had a few interesting dates here and there. I met some women with whom I connected more intimately, but our interest only held for a short time.
Spring became summer and summer became fall.
Then I saw Jenny’s ad.
Reading the ad I sensed a cheerful hopefulness emanating from it. The ad stood out from the others. It affected me in a way that I could not explain.
I contacted the voicemail box and left a message, “My wife flew the coop. I’m looking for someone to enjoy life with.”
When I arrived home from work the next afternoon there was a message on my answering machine, “This is Jenny. You left a message on my voicemail. Call me at 5…5…5…1…2…1…2, that’s 5…5…5…1…2…1…2.” She recited the number twice, speaking slowly and distinctly. Most people rattle off the number rapidly. I usually have to replay the tape several times to get it. But, not Jenny. She made sure I got it the first time. Jenny was different. Jenny stood out from the crowd.
Jenny answered her phone. “Hello,” she said. I said, “Hello, this is Estwald. You left a message on my machine.”
Then silence. After a moment I said, “You must be shy.”
“Ask me questions,” was her response.
So, I started thinking of questions, any questions, whatever came to my mind. Pretty soon we were having a conversation. Jenny didn’t have a car. She worked Saturdays but had Sundays off. So I suggested we meet Saturday evening, rather than my usual Friday. She agreed and expressed her appreciation for my thoughtfulness. To me, it was just common sense.
Since Jenny had no car, I suggested picking her up at her apartment. I assumed she would have an alternative suggestion: a public place she could get to without a car. Surprisingly, she agreed to have me pick her up at her place.
I arrived at Jenny’s apartment Saturday evening wearing blue jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. The weather was milder than normal for mid-October. She answered her door wearing blue jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. We drove to a local college town about 40 miles from where we lived and went for a walk. We walked for hours. Afterward, we sat against a tree trunk, under the stars, by a peaceful lake.
She still tells me that our first date was the best time she ever had. On subsequent dates, I don’t remember making any special effort; we would just enjoy each other’s company. She is that rare gemstone you sometimes find in a pile of rubble.
Jenny and I still enjoy walking together. We also spend time at a local bookstore that has a coffee shop inside. She drinks hot chocolate since she doesn’t care for coffee.
I was beginning a new life. Linda was gradually fading from my consciousness. I began to think of her as a generic relative, like a cousin who happened to be the mother of my daughter and the grandmother of my granddaughter-to-be.
{Chapter 2 — Part V:}
