The waitress at Village Inn paced toward our table. Only one other couple sat in her section, but she appeared somewhat distressed and overwhelmed. Her racing speed helped our cause; McSwain Engineering needed Haley back in an hour. Our waitress took Haley’s order: a turkey veggie melt, with french fries instead of the fruit. My turn followed, and I requested the turkey honey mustard club, “without lettuce or tomato, please.”

Haley interjected toward our waitress: “Wait, does that dish come with a pickle on the side? Yeah? Ok, don’t bring the pickle; he won’t eat it or any food it touches.”

That’s all she had to do for me to know. This is my girl right now. If I’m supposed to be with someone right now, and if I’ve met the person I’m supposed to love right now, I know who it is. She was sitting across the table from me, helping me complete my lunch order, protecting me from ever-disgusting pickle juice.

I didn’t know how to react. So many thoughts went through my head. I could tell her everything about her I’ve prayed for and dreamt of this entire summer. Instead, I chuckled and said, “Haha, thanks sweetie.”

I wanted to say so much more, but that’s all I can say right now. Thanks, sweetie.