For the last five years, I’ve spent time cooking for the OPC annual singles retreats at the Machen Retreat Center in McDowell Virginia. Mostly, it was a fun way for me to meet other of a like mind, though I never really looked for a potential spouse there. I cooked for what began as a two day retreat for twenty five people once a year, and eventually grew to such heights that we changed it to forty people twice a year. The spring and fall retreats were really just a chance to escape the city and enjoy my friends in the mountains, until last year’s fall retreat. Thats when it all changed. My legendary clumsiness and lack of athletic ability led Fitzs birthday frisbee to the roof, when I noticed some strange man in a flannel chopping wood just to help out. Surely he would help a poor delicate woman who couldnt climb to such tall heights and retrieve the toy for her precious dog...My damsel in distress plan firmly in place, I walked over to plead for help. Adam of course was incredibly helpful and sympathetic to my plight, and we spent the next four days talking and getting to know each other. We went for lunch on the last day, when we walked his grandmothers property along the river and promised to see each other again soon.

We spent the next few months driving back and forth between Columbia and Knoxville, meeting each other’s friends and families. Adam showed his dance skills at a dear friend’s wedding, and I made lots of food to make sure he knew what he had to look forward to.

We visited each other’s family for Christmas and New Year’s, and Adam had his first real Philly cheese steak. Another first was checked off when we both got a nasty 24 hour bug, during which Adam said he “wished he wasn’t sick so he could hold my hair back”. I told him this was very much not necessary, as I’d rather him never see me that way. A few days after New Year’s, he asked my dad’s permission…

We finally made arrangements to go out for a walk by the river and dinner; Adam told me I should do my nails, I was certain this was IT. When I asked where we were going, he said that he felt like barbecue. It didn’t exactly scream romance, so I figured he would be another time. Thankfully, I’d already done my hair and nails. We walked along the Tennessee river and he asked if I was happy. (A ludicrous questions because I’ve never been this happy. I didn’t know it was possible to be so happy.) When I said I was, he got down to one knee and pulled an emerald box from his pocket. Inside was a gorgeous emerald cut ring that he designed himself. Naturally, I said yes and we spent the rest of the night grinning like absolute fools.