Some couples have their song. Others their spot, the place where they had their first kiss, or where he proposed. John and I have spaghetti. Baked spaghetti.<\/p>\n
It goes back to New Year\u2019s Eve, 1979. My family had moved from Greenville, South Carolina, to the tiny farm town of Fountain Inn six weeks earlier. I was miserable. We moved often, first because of Daddy\u2019s military service, and then because my parents were looking for a place to settle down.<\/p>\n
A shy 14-year-old, I just wanted to call a place home\u2014home <\/em>home\u2014and make friends I wouldn\u2019t have to leave in a few months.<\/p>\n When our new next-door neighbors invited my brother and me to their church youth group\u2019s New Year\u2019s Eve progressive dinner, it took all my courage to go. The first course was at a house down the road. The rec room was quite the scene\u2014kids were shooting pool, hanging out, talking.<\/p>\n I found a stool in the corner and perched there awkwardly, wishing I was brave enough to speak to someone. When it was time to eat, everyone trooped into the kitchen to get salad\u2014 yuck! I stayed put.<\/p>\n That\u2019s when he walked up. An older boy in a crisp plaid shirt, with steelblue eyes, wavy brown hair and a smile that made my heart quicken.<\/p>\n \u201cHey, I\u2019m John,\u201d he said. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cCarol.\u201d I was too flustered to say anything more than that.<\/p>\n \u201cNice to meet you,\u201d John said. \u201cYou\u2019re new in town, right? Where are you from?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGreenville,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n I found out he was 16 and had grown up here, on a farm that had been given to his family in a land grant from King Charles II back in the 1600s. Wow, here I was, six weeks in town, and this guy\u2019s family had been here for 300 years!<\/p>\n \u201cTime to move on,\u201d the youth minister called. \u201cEveryone get back on the bus.\u201d<\/p>\n I snagged a seat right by John and we kept talking until the bus pulled up at the next stop, a farmhouse. John held the door open for me. What a gentleman! <\/em>I thought.<\/p>\n We stood in line in the kitchen with our plates, waiting for our host to dish out the main course. \u201cWhere\u2019s your house?\u201d I asked, not wanting our conversation to dry up.<\/p>\n He gave me a quizzical look and said, \u201cRight here!\u201d<\/p>\n I was mortified. Of course…this was the farm he\u2019d been telling me about. Our host was his mom. Duh!<\/p>\n \u201cMom made her famous baked spaghetti,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n \u201cBaked spaghetti? What\u2019s that?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWait till you try it,\u201d John said, excited. \u201cMom serves it at all our youth events. You\u2019ll really love it.\u201d<\/p>\n He was right. Every bite was the perfect combination of melted cheese, tender pasta and seasoned beef. \u201cThis is the best spaghetti I\u2019ve ever had,\u201d I said, getting up to get seconds.<\/p>\n John grinned. \u201cWhat did I tell you?\u201d<\/p>\n The party moved on to the next house, where John and I shared dessert and counted down to the New Year together. It was almost as though we were on a date, just the two of us. But all too soon, the night was over.<\/p>\n A few days later, he called. \u201cHi, Carol. I was wondering if you\u2019d like to go out sometime.\u201d<\/p>\n My heart leaped…then sank. \u201cI can\u2019t,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m not allowed to date until I\u2019m sixteen.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh,\u201d John said. \u201cWell, I\u2019ll talk to you later, then.\u201d<\/p>\n We hung up. I guess baked spaghetti on New Year\u2019s Eve is the only date I will ever have with him, <\/em>I thought.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The next day at school he caught up to me in the hall and asked me out again. I told him my father had laid down the law. John was undaunted. He asked me out a third time. Since John was brave enough to keep trying, I worked up the nerve to go to Daddy.<\/p>\n