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“Andy and I are having a BBQ and we’d like you to come.  It’s July 3^rd.” 

 My best friend, Eileen, was engaged to Andy and living with him.  They lived on the top floor of his two-family where Andy had built a nice deck out back off the kitchen, perfect for a summer barbeque. 

I can’t go.  My parents are coming up to visit.”  Sad to admit, but every summer, my parents would drive up from New York to deliver my air conditioner and then return in the fall to retrieve it.  My small condo didn’t have much storage space.  My mother realized that if they stored it for me, that would build in two visits I couldn’t refuse. 

“Bring them!” 

The thought of bringing my parents to a BBQ made me feel like 3 or 4 years old, instead of the 34 I had just turned in May.  My still-single status seemed more glaring as my mother silently despaired that I, along with my two brothers and sister, would never marry.  All our lives, both parents had never pushed us to marry as the be-all, end-all goal in life.  Instead, they’d say “Be happy”.  But as we crossed into our 30s, my mother changed her mind.  Her friends were having grandchildren and I think she felt left out.  At least my middle sister had married and had two kids, taking the pressure off us.  I had waited this long for the Right One and I’d wait longer, if necessary. 

Eileen and I then had the first disagreement in our 10-year friendship.  “Bring them!  I want them to come.” 

“I’ll be the only one at the party with her parents!”  I whined.   

“No you won’t.  Renee is bringing her two kids.”  She laughed.  They were 3 and 5 years old.   

“What if there’s a guy there?”  But I had already met all of Andy’s friends when he assumed the role of my personal yenta. There was no one left.   I agreed.

When my parents arrived, I laid down the rules.  “You can go, have a beer and burger, then leave!”  They agreed. 

July 3^rd was a sunny, summer day.  I walked in, ahead of my parents, through the kitchen, and out onto the deck where the party was.  I scanned the deck for any new men.  Nope. 

The smell of burgers and steaks barbequing wafted in the air.  Eileen had arranged a picnic table with an assortment of summer salads.  The crowded deck was perfect for a singles scene, but my parents wanted to sit down.  Parking ourselves down on a bench, near the table with the salads, I sat between them.   

After filling up our plates with food, my mother wasted no time.   

“What about this one?” she asked, pointing with her eyes to a guy across the deck while she ate her hamburger.

“No.”

Seconds later.  “What about this one?”, pointing not discretely at all to the man who was Andy’s next choice.   “Ma!” I whispered, exasperated, “he has a girlfriend.  Sitting right next to him!” 

She finished her burger in silence, seemingly discouraged, then made one more try 

“What about that one?”

Hmmm… where did he come from?  I had never seen him before.  He wasn’t my usual slick, corporate type.  More outdoorsy and rugged.  Plus tall.  Good.

“Go talk to him” my mother prodded. 

“No!”

Suddenly, my father, sitting on my left, said very quietly, not even looking at me, “He seems like a nice guy.”  Something in his voice touched my heart.

“How would you know?” He just shrugged. 

“Ok-aaay.”  Anything to end this useless matchmaking!

Standing up, I began the walk over towards the grill where he was standing.  What was I going to say?  Spotting a bag of marshmallows on one of the tables, and Hershey candy bars, and boxes of graham crackers, years of Girl Scout training kicked in and, my back to him, I quickly constructed some gooey treats.  Swirling around, I smiled.

“S’mores?

I cringed, but the mystery man seemed amused.  And hungry.  Our eyes connected as he reached for the plate and, at that moment, I felt like fairy dust fell down from the heavens on us.  Or was it his blue eyes sparkling?  It felt like were alone on that deck.  Right then, I knew, somehow, deep in my soul, that he was The One.

His name was Joe and, turns out, he was a skiing buddy of Andy’s.  In fact, Andy had invited Joe on a winter ski trip I went on that February, but Joe had cancelled at last minute.

We chatted for a while, until some other girl interrupted, and began flirting with Joe.  Annoyed at his politeness, (or maybe he liked her?), I returned, pouting, to my parents, sitting on the bench, like basketball coaches, eager to hear the play-by-play. 

After relaying the events, I scanned the deck again for him.  He’d left!  The next day, I called Eileen and Andy to say thanks and to investigate.  “What was the name of that skiing friend of yours again?”

Andy caught on immediately.  “Now that I think about it, the two of you would make a perfect couple. 

I met Joe again three weeks later when a trip to the beach got cancelled.  Eileen said she and Andy were going hiking with some of his friends in the New Hampshire.  “Want to come with us?”

Immediately suspicious -- Andy had told me that Joe had a camp in New Hampshire – I asked, “Is this a fix-up?”  Eileen reassured me it wasn’t.  When we drove into an old, run down summer camp.  A bearded bear of man ran out and redirected us.  “Everyone’s staying at Tully’s.” 

I knew it!  This was a fix up!

When I walked in and saw him --- unshaved, possibly for days – and the shock in his eyes, I realized he had no idea I was coming.  As the crowd of crunchy, granola types crowded his house, an older woman about late seventies approached me. 

“Hi. What’s your name?  What do you do?  Where do you live?” 

I told her.  “That’s only two miles from my son, Joe.  Joe!  Come over here.” And she introduced us, not knowing it was a re-introduction.   

Looking at me, she turned to him and said, “I think you should ask her out for drinks.”  Then she paused.  “No, drinks and dinner.”  She walked away.

The weekend was hectic.  I hiked with the friends while he entertained his mother, along with his sister and brother-in-law, his sister, and her two sons.  There was such a crowd, we never got to talk. 

Sunday night, he asked for my number.  I also took his.  Monday night, I sat waiting for the phone to ring, certain he’d call.  My stomach knotted.  I called Eileen.  “Wait a while. Don’t call him and scare him off” she warned.  I called anyway. 

He sounded surprised, but pleased.  “I was going to call you, but was just balancing my checkbook.”  We made a dinner date for that Thursday.  After dinner, he kissed me for two hours.  I didn’t stop smiling for days.

Twelve years and two daughters later, we’re both smiling.  And every July, we break out the s’mores and celebrate.

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