Alexander and I had out first date the Friday night of Labor Day weekend. If you know me, you know that my parents have a summer home on the Cape where I have spent the last 30 summers of my life*. Memorial Day weekend signaled the beginning of summer and Labor Day weekend, the end of the season. I never missed either weekend on the Cape. Tradition. When I accepted the date with Alexander and told my parents I would be coming to the Cape on Saturday instead of Friday after work, they already knew that this guy rated higher than anyone else in my life ever had.
Alexander arrives on my doorstep with flowers in one hand and a book in the other. I love to read and he knew it so he brought flowers as a typical first date gift and the book because, "any guy can bring a girl flowers but only a guy who pays attention to conversation would bring you a book". Yup, I was smitten.
Off we went for our waterfront dinner where half way through our appetizer, chatting and laughing it struck me - I like this guy. As in really liked this guy. After dinner we walked around the quaint historical New England town, got ice cream, sat on a park bench and people watched. Friday night bled into Saturday morning on that seaside bench.
Alexander asked if I wanted to go for a hike on Saturday. I quickly agreed. Then we had dinner Saturday night, brunch Sunday, boating on Monday. Yes, all Labor Day weekend we hung out having a fantastic time, falling in love.
Of course my Mother, brother, and friends had been calling my cell and house phones all weekend to find out where the heck I was. They all knew I had the date Friday night but when I didn't call to say how it went or show up Saturday at the Cape - people started to panic. I didn't call because funny thing about falling in love - it is true that nothing much else matters. When I wasn't with Alexander that weekend, I was thinking about our dates and what I would wear the next time I saw him.
By Monday night, my Mom left me a voicemail, "CeeCee, this is ridiculous. Where are you and why aren't you answering the phone?!?!? I'm about to call the police and am going to tell them I'm afraid you got 'Scott Petersoned' but I can't remember your date's name and I don't want to be that woman on the nightly news who appears to have no idea what her daughter was up to." That's right, my Mom used Scoot Peterson as a verb - as in she thought my date murdered me and disposed of my body. Did I mention she watches a lot of Nancy Grace? Classic Mom.
So, before the search party was sent out for me, I called her with my exciting love tale and got an earful about her fearing me being Scott Petersoned. To this day, whenever Alexander and I are driving someplace new or he takes me on a different route I tell him not to get any ideas about Scott Petersoning me because my Mom will be all over it.
Good to know Mom's got my back.
*One hot summer day, if you find yourself on the Cape and want to teach your kids to water ski, need a place to park to go to the bay, need to use a bathroom, want to take a dip in the pond, kayak, or are in need of an afternoon gin and tonic waterside with some of the best conversation with the best neighbors and friends you'll ever find - call us. Once you experience my Cape life, you'll never want to leave. And yes, I am aware that I have a charmed life and how lucky I am.
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