Delicious

I think it’s time for a sweet story.  With fall upon us and all the delightful tastes and smells that come with it, I’ve been thinking a lot about pumpkin pie.  Now, if there’s anything you need to know about me it’s that I love, I repeat LOVE pumpkin pie.  It’s oh so delicious and mmmmmmm. YUMMY. So this story is about a boy, a dance, and a pumpkin pie.

 February 2008 and the snow was a mile high.  Goodness, Rexburg gets so cold in the winters.  Honestly, if you’ve never lived in Rexburg I’ll tell you that it’s just like the over exaggerated movies.  You know, when you open the door all the flurries of snow come rushing in and you have to use all your strength to shut it again because the wind is blowing horizontally.  Yep.  Been there done that.  SO, like I said, it was February and if you wanted to drive anywhere you couldn’t because, well, your car was buried in five feet of snow.  There is very little to do in Rexburg in the winter when it’s so bitter cold.  I saw people getting creative with snowmen, and snowball fights, igloos, and jumping off third story balconies because, hey, you’ll land safely in a snow bank five feet below.  Just walking to class, you had to bundle everything in warmth from head to tippy-toe.  If I left my hair down and kind of in my face, I would have icicles in my hair by the time I got to class just from my breath.  I know some are wondering why I ever even chose to gain my higher education in Siberia…I’m wondering that, too!  But in all honesty, Rexburg isn’t that bad and the cold becomes bearable.  Kind of….

My favorite activity at the time was to go country swing dancing.  If the snow and wind weren’t howling so hard, I braved the weather in my handy leather boots and danced the night away to country tunes.  Unbelievable, since I don’t even like country!  But I’ll tell ya, dancing to it is so much fun.  And if a guy can at least two-step to “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” with me, I’m immediately in heaven.   

I usually went to the weekly dances prepared with a man at my side.  I’d take a friend or someone from church, or someone’s brother.  But every now and then, when no one is available, I would go by myself and find some hunky young man to dance with.  It was delightful, giddy fun! 

 I was without a partner for the country swing dance one week.  I went through my phone to see if I could find at least someone to go with me.  No…not him…nope…next…nooooo.  WAIT.  A name suddenly popped up and I thought he would be perfect!  This young man had already taken me out on a few dates.  He was funny, and charming, and incredibly nice.  I enjoyed going out with him and I know he enjoyed going out with me, so obviously I thought it a safe bet to call and ask him to come with me.  I called.  No answer.  So, I left a message asking him if he wanted to go country swing dancing with me.  I crossed my fingers and hung up, hoping he’d call back again soon.  

I waited a few hours, and he didn’t call.  I started to feel stupid for even asking!  You know what I mean:  the more time you have to think about it, the worse the circumstances seem and then you start worrying, and then panicking, and then wishing you weren’t even alive!  Well….I didn’t get that far. 

Finally he called. 

And do you know what he said? He said NO.  BIG FAT N-O.  He explained to me that he doesn’t like to dance and would rather he not come with me. 

 

Well, fine. 

I went by myself and had a pretty good time.  A few cowboys twirled me on the dance floor and a few wanna-be’s stepped on my toes.  Still, it was good fun.  I felt silly for a while for asking my friend to come with me.  It’s not easy being rejected, even if he is nice and it’s just a silly little dance.  Overall, though, it was just another good Wednesday evening trying my hand at something more exciting than homework.  

As I walked home in the bitter cold, I heard giggling girls coming from my apartment.  I walked in and my roommates pounced on me yelling, “Look on the table! Look on the table!”  I went over to the kitchen table and found a still warm, fresh, homemade, scrumptious pumpkin pie….heavenly bliss! Where did it come from?  My roommates’ reasons for giggling became apparent when they yelled out his name, “Max, Max, Max!”  Really?? The guy who turned me down for dancing made me a pie?  I immediately called him on my phone and he quickly picked up. 

“Max.”

“Yes.”

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Yes.”

“Ha.  Thank you! Why?”

“I wanted to apologize for not coming to the dance with you when you asked me to.”

SMILE SMILE SMILE 

“Wow. I really love pie!”

“My sister helped me make it.  I hope you enjoy it!”

“I will!”

YUM.

How wonderfully sweet is that?  He turned me down, but he apologized by making my favorite pie in the short amount of time that I was gone.  It made me so happy; I think we had at least five more dates after that!  To this day, I still think it’s one of the nicest things anyone has given me.  Not just because it’s my favorite pie (although that helps), but also because he took to time to make it as an apology.  That’s one outstanding young man in my opinion!  

Even to this day, I still smile thinking about it.