“How I met your Father” …As I might say to my children in the distant future.

How to tell this without beginning with my entire life story… Dale and I had each finished an LDS mission at the end of the year 2007—Dale at around Thanksgiving, and me just after the New Year. Dale immediately jumped back into school, where he would stay for a marathon 4 semesters before taking a break. I spent 8 months recouping at my parent’s home, enjoying sunny Southern California, and working part-time in a civil service job, trying to get back in the pace of Social Work. Dale had been beefing up his social life in Utah when I came into the Roman Garden’s complex, determined to maintain my Los Angeles Mystique and finish my last 8 months of school.

Short story is that we were in the same apartment complex and attended the same congregation. Long story is more fun to tell…

I was coming home from a long day of school and internship when one of my roommates called me up to play games in a guy’s apartment. I was feeling thrashed from a long day of rush, and the best way to purge a busy day is with a rigorous evening of successful flirting! After changing into one of my new, cute outfits, I went to the designated “guy apartment” ready to break some hearts!

I knew of this apartment. One of my roommates (Janae) had a long and confusing history with one of the other guys there, and I had heard ALL about it J. I had heard of Dale through a “pie party” I’d walked through earlier in the month—but it was so crammed with people, black lights, and loud music, that I’d only said “hi” to the people I already knew. I also knew that the guys living in that apartment didn’t usually flirt or stand welcoming at the open door when you “happened” to walk by. I walked into the apartment feeling ready for a challenge!

Let the Apples to Apples Commence!

I knew all the girls there, and had more fun with them than the guys. The host was busy being animated with a group of other girls, and didn’t look ready or interested in meeting me. I went for Rob first, noticing him sitting alone and perhaps ready for some one-on-one conversation. I wasn’t really paying attention to the game much until I started winning. That’s when the host started addressing me personally. Hello Dale…

I enjoyed the game from there on out, exchanging energetic quips with the most competitive members of the group. When we started watching a movie afterwards, Dale ended up sitting behind me, part of the jumble of legs I was leaning against. I collected his foot and started massaging it. Hey, that’s what I do! Ask any of my previous roommates or social circle. They’ll tell you “Alana is a touch-y gal, and if there’s a foot around, she’s probably massaging it.”

It was a school night, and “Second Hand Lions” just wasn’t enough of a temptation to keep me from getting a full night’s rest, so I left, but not before Dale could ask for my number. I got a text while preparing for bed (ie gabbing with roommates) 15 minutes later stating “You are way too cool not to ask on a date next week. Pick a day and you won’t regret it.” Now the lameness of being asked out over text message was negated by the direct nature of his request and the immediacy of his recognizing that I’m SO cool! I picked a day and he responded “Great! You seem like an adventure.” I was excited about him.

When the appointed evening arrived, I had been analyzing my three current guy interests all day—in true single student fashion—deciding which wisp of an option was most worth my devotion until it sputtered out. While emotionally preparing for all possibilities the evening might present, I wasn’t sure about starting something with Dale and “giving up” on these other guys until I opened the door to my apartment saw the look on Dale’s face. When his eyes focused on me, he stilled and said, “You look great.” Every girl likes to be told she looks nice, but I could tell Dale was impressed with me, which made me want to be out with him.

We went for an evening walk in a baseball park. He had asked me what I want to do, and I had asked for simple. It was a mid-week date. I had work the next day, and I also get nervous when guys plan to spend money on me before we know each other. This was perfect.

We got to talk off an empty field of bleachers, walk down a lane through a field, and sit under the moonlight. Dale was a good conversationalist. He didn’t seem bored or need to be entertained. He was interested in what I had to say, and asked adventurous and provocative questions. The questions weren’t so un-usual as the way he listened for the answers and actually cared about what I had to say, whether or not it was witty or entertaining. Dale actually wanted to know who I was, and wanted to know what my responses were to “why did you choose Social Work” or “how did you like your mission?” Later when we were sitting on the jungle gym swings, I realized how we could relate on things that were tender, and how he would never judge me. I remember my defenses melting when I realized I didn’t have to be afraid.

He had such positive regard, optimism, and humor in the face of ridiculousness, that I found myself agreeing to continue the date late for iced cream and a movie at his place. He even agreed that if I was too tired to watch the whole movie, he wouldn’t be offended if I fell asleep on his couch. He had rented Iron Man just for me, and gave me “two hockey pucks” size of my favorite iced cream. We were lounging on the couch watching the movie when he held my hand. After the iced cream interruption, he picked up my hand again, in that gentle way of asking permission. After I got too tired (I had early mornings that year), Dale set my head against his chest and slowly stroked my curls so I could rest.

I am not a first-date hand holder. You never know what hand holding means to the other person and it’s generally good to wait and see if they are going to ask you out on more than one date to allow your heart to get caught up with your entwined fingers… but after that first date I was hooked. We had our second, third dates and so on, but I was just waiting for him to be as interested in me as I was in him. As soon as he made up his mind, he never ceased to surprise me with his tender concern and interest in my life. I’m glad he became my husband.