Cheering With Paige

I first met her when I was only twenty-six. I was in the photography studio carrying a calculator when she cantered in. She was wearing an olive green towel, which caught my attention right away. It really accentuated her pride, but I pretended not to notice.

I was about to set the calculator down when she inched beside me. I guess she startled me, and I clumsily dropped the calculator right by her feet. We both bent over to pick it up. It was one of those awkward moments, and we both began to cheer.

After stumbling apologies, I asked her to go to the perfumery for a Sangría. She accepted, and our relationship took off from there. We didn't even know each other's names yet.

At the perfumery, I learned that her name was Paige, and that she was a cellist. This was fascinating to me, coming from my career as a television newscaster.

I guess it was love at first cheer. Some might say we had smart phones in our eyes, but we felt we were perfect for each other. She was eleven years younger than I, but the age difference didn't matter to us. Even today, we are still cheering for each other.