10 years ago, on a rainy night, something epic happened…

I’m listening to jazz and soaking in today’s milestone. We are halfway to meeting our baby girl. I am halfway into my pregnancy today.

The scent of my veggie dish, a charred zucchini, sweet potato and chickpea with lemon, olive oil and all the spices, wafts in the air. To my left is our dog, Bo, curled into a ball as usual. In about 20 minutes she will start bugging me to feed her dinner.

Outside the window, I see Fry mountain. This is my daily mountain view, and I’ve come to think of him as a friend. We’re nearing winter and he likes to turn a strong reddish color at sunset this time of year. And, yes, I’ve come to think of him as a he. The jazz music I’m listening to sounds sophisticated, like I want to be in a swanky bar in Manhattan somewhere. I’d go to the bar and order a glass of red wine, something from Spain and if not whatever you have that makes the sides of my mouth tingle.

Maybe I’m by myself. I come here to write. Maybe I’m even here working on a story for the magazine I work for. As I’m off somewhere in this fantasy of the direction my life could have gone, I come back to the article I’m reading on a Cup of Jo. She writes about her first date and I think of mine and Jaime’s. He was my fork in the road, the reason I decided to stay in Miami instead of moving somewhere else, like New York City.

I was living in my own apartment at the time and I’d been single for a while. I lived in the work district in Miami, the part that most closely resembles a tiny New York City. Lots of financial companies in high-rise buildings, taxis buzzing about, the metro rail (our overground subway system). I went out plenty of nights and ordered sophisticated and not-so-sophisticated drinks, and I began to think I’d lived enough of Miami.

Queue to a happenstance meeting with Jaime. The sweet guy with the inviting smile I got to know during a summer away in Spain my senior year of college. He was a mutual friend of friends. That fateful night we reconnected, he was at a crossroads too, in Miami but unsure for how long. Our paths met right at the perfect moment in both our lives.

That night, he comes over for a drink with friends. We immediately begin to text daily. It feels good to talk to him. He listens well and I like his stories. He’s funny and smart. And he has the right amount of arrogance (admittedly, I do like a little of that). But he’s here, in Miami, do I want to stay? I say yes anyway and we go on our first date.

He borrows a car to pick me up and takes me to a Northern Spanish restaurant. My family is from there, he knows this, and thought I’d feel closer to them. I’m incredibly moved. I wear a long flowy dress in a deep purple hue. I know it brings out my eyes. My hair is long and blonde, it reaches to my butt. I feel sexy and confident. We laugh, drink wine and I feel comfortable eating in front of him.

He comes over after and we sit and talk on my balcony, which faces a far-reaching view of the ocean. Beyond that are all the tiny lights of a city built near water. It’s beautiful and it starts to rain. We kiss.

And that was all it took. I put my plans of moving to a bigger city out of my mind and stayed put and took a chance on us. I’m glad I did. From there, we moved in together, bought our first apartment, got engaged, got married in Spain, moved to a small mountain town and now we’re having a baby. Our daughter.

Now you tell me. What did you do on your first date?