How we met
Both of us called Dalton home. My journey took me back there after spending seven years in Arizona. I was hoping to get involved in the local arts scene, so I ventured to the Creative Arts Guild one afternoon post-work to explore some available art classes. It was there I met Savannah, the gallery's Director, who welcomed my inquiries with a mix of preoccupation and mild frustration.
When Robb came in at 4:30 on Friday, my first assumption about the good-looking man in front of me was that he was one of the Guild’s notorious “volunteers” looking to complete 40-hours of mandatory community service by a 5 pm deadline. Dating in Dalton wasn’t easy and unfortunately most of the available men I got to know through work were not really suitable boyfriend material. Frustrated — and eager to get out of the office for the weekend — I let him know that our events planner and designated volunteer coordinator, Debbie, had already left for the day. It was only then that Robb mentioned that he was there looking to sign up for one of our adult painting classes.
None of the classes worked with my availability, so I left Savannah my contact information in case the schedule changed. Despite Savannah’s lukewarm reception, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of an instant connection between us as I drove home that day. A sentiment that, at least initially, didn't appear to be mutual.
It was only after Robb left and I was back in the safety of my office that I finally looked down at the scrap piece of paper where Robb had hurriedly written down his contact information as he attempted to escape my less-than-warm welcome. “Robb… Andersen? Like Trish Andersen’s brother?” Before I realize I had even said the sentence out loud I heard a response from the office next door yelling back — “That couldn’t have been Robb Andersen, the last time I saw him he was a little chubby kid.” Walking next door to my coworker, Leanne’s, office, I very confidently assured her that Robb Andersen was most certainly not a kid anymore. As I began to recount to her my humiliating interaction with the brother of Dalton’s favorite hometown artist, I began laughing at just how badly I had embarrassed myself. As my story continued the laughter gave way to unexpected tears. And — as if on cue — it was in that moment that the entirety of the Creative Arts Guild staff entered the room to me melodramatically crying, laughing, and shouting “…but he was just so good looking.”
The initial spark I felt with Savannah never faded, and just a week after she rushed me out the door, I went back to see about volunteering. By what seemed like fate (but was more accurately the strategic planning of Savannah's matchmaking coworkers) I was asked to assist her at a wedding held at the Guild. The night of the wedding, as we worked side by side, something just clicked between us.
Later, after the wedding had ended, Savannah and I walked around Dalton, exchanging stories and laughs until we found ourselves back at her front door. It was here I met Aspen, whose four-legged presence beat in time with my own heart and sealed Savannah’s and my fate.