We pulled in front of the house, just a few minutes late, and noticed three cars parked in front. All three were minivans. Uh oh. At this point in life, Hubs and I both drove sports cars. Two doors, that was our limit. I will cut the story short and tell you how it was a very painful evening for us. The three couples were old enough to be our parents. One couple had grown children our age, and let us know that. But at prayer time, they were so thankful that God finally brought another couple to their study. Their exuberance and thankfulness was enough to make us squirm. Maybe we were just unthankful. Still resolved to make married friends, the next week we attempted the study again. Well, not really. We parked on the cross street, and waited and watched for 15 minutes past the start time. The same three minivans were parked in front of the house. Yep, we drove away. Newly married, we did not want to hang out with people old enough to be our folks. We have often laughed about that night, and dubbed it "The Stake Out."
Two years later, Hubs landed a job inside the D.C. Beltway. I had never lived anywhere except three cities in Southern California. This was no small move for me. This was a coast to coast move for a California girl. And I did not want my life to change. I was used to Hubby traveling 50% of the year. I still wished for married friends, though I had none. I was used to life. I loved my workplace. I loved our rental house a few blocks from the beach. On the weekends we drove to see family in San Diego, Phoenix, Las Vegas, and San Luis Obispo areas. I traveled every now and then on business trips with Hubby. I had no desire for change. None. But it was inevitable. When the final news came that our move was definite, we had four months to prepare for our move. At night for nearly four months we prayed for our new life. And one consistent prayer request was to make married couple friends in our new place to call home, Northern Virginia.
Well, the story is a long one. I shared some of the story before. But the short story is that we found ourselves at a church with a class called Teammates, and first were greeted by LL and her husband. Yes, we knew them B.K., before kids. However, the majority of the class was moving out of the transient Northern Virginia area. New couples were moving in. The people that attended this class were other DINKs (double income, no kids) like ourselves. And these people were active! In February 2001, Hubs dreamed up the idea of a Hearts Tournament. We sponsored an event for the Teammates class, without really knowing anyone, except our friends, J and K. I was SO NERVOUS no one would show up. Ha ha, an answer to our four months of praying, our house was full of card players! We made so many great married couple friends from Teammates that continue to be our friends, no matter that almost none of us live in the Northern Virginia area anymore.
An hour before the tournament, Rebekah called for directions. We had never met. I told her there was no way I could give directions to our house "because I am from San Diego," which became my excuse for everything unfamiliar in Virginia. We lived not too far from the "Mixing Bowl" where the highways split into seven directions. Some go clockwise, and some go counter clockwise, and some are inner loops and outer loops. This was totally different than San Diego, where signs north point toward Los Angeles, south point toward Mexico, east point toward the mountains and dessert, and west point toward the ocean. Freeways did not make loops or circles, they were straight shots. She laughed. I couldn't tell if she was laughing at me or if she was laughing with me. Later I learned she too grew up in San Diego! So that was the start of the friendship between the Eekhoffs and the Farmers. A desire in our hearts from nearly eleven years ago to make married peers, that ended in "The Stake Out," remained with us two years later, when we moved. When we met the Eekhoffs back in 2001 we never dreamt we would live in San Diego in 2009, and our eldest children, just seven days apart, would pretend to roast marshmallows in our pool room. And if you know our mutual friend, Michelle, then you know that those marshmallow skewers are actually bamboo sticks she once gave me. And those marshmallows are actually cotton balls.
