All anticipation evaporated into reality as I meet Amy at her house in Sugar City. I drove my dad’s pickup with my bicycle in back. The “date” was to begin with an extended bicycle tour of Sugar City, guided by Amy, as Sugar has always been so close, yet so foreign. Partway through, we ran into Amy’s parents, exiting some function at the new high school. They visited with Amy briefly while I stood by, and we cycled back to the homestead to take off in m’dad’s truck. Amy recovered from her coughing fit just in time as we approached the house. As I unloaded my bike, I told Amy the house was empty, and she boldly went inside to wait for me. Turned out it wasn’t empty, but Dad was just inside the entry, reading a book. No doubt it was a little surprise for both of them, but no harm done. Dad said, “Well, you must be a friend of Wade’s!"
From there, this date had a surface of plain vanilla. We saw “Peter Pan” at the Westwood Theater. I told Amy it was OK to put her foot on the seats in front of us (after all, we practically owned the place), and a passing usher told her to put it down. We returned to the house afterward for ice cream sundaes, and then I took her home. I took her the longest reasonable route to Sugar City, up Mill Hollow, down Pole Line Road, circling Rexburg to spend a little more time with her. My brain was practically fizzing with the realization that I was, right then, on this much anticipated date with Amy, though I kept my composure and held a demeanor of mild-mannered enthusiasm. At the “doorstep,” I offered my hand to shake in farewell, which she took, then said something about me still acting like a missionary, and pulled me into a brief hug. Wow. I wasn’t expecting this. She went in the house and I back to the car. I was hooked.
Epilogue: It would be 10 months and at least as many dates before I got another brief hug from Amy, and a solid year before our first kiss. Throughout that summer I tried to see her as much as possible without seeming over-eager or ingratiating, but I’m sure I didn’t hide it well. At times I was sure she dreaded me, but where she hadn’t specifically said it, I felt driven to the pursuit. Now, part of the game was to not bet everything on this one girl, so I dutifully dated others. No one else even came close, even if it looked good on paper. Somehow, Amy and I had disembarked onto the same platform, having traveled parallel tracks that took us through much of the same territory, but never let our paths cross until now. It was all clear to me, and if it wasn’t to her yet, that was OK. I would see her in the fall at BYU.