Our First Night Together

Now-Husband and I met ten days before this night, and fell in love at first sight. The 7th, 8th, and 9th nights I slept in his apartment on a blanket on the floor because I would not share his bed. I wanted him to respect me.

On the tenth night, I arrived at his apartment in a trench coat and teddie. He had Enya playing in the background, soft candle light and he was wearing nothing but a grin and 3-year old dirty-gray colored briefs that hug precariously on one hip, the elastic shot to hell.

The party began. Soon, I was lying with my soles to the ceiling, my shoulder-length hair draped in every direction. The fire alarm went off. I opened my eyes and he asked me how I was making that awful noise.

Just then we both saw the two-foot high flames at the ends of my hair. The candle on the nightstand and the pillowcase my head was on, touched. He twisted and punched out the flames with his hands, still...attached...to me, laying one elbow on my breast. Ow!

That ended that party. We had to open up the apartment and use the front door to fan out the smoke. The pillow was ruined, but my hair did not catch fire, thank goodness. We still have that pillow, the plastic zipper black and curled. That's how we started our lives together.