In November, BK's family invited me to come for Thanksgiving. They were in the middle of building a house, and so they were living in a two bedroom condo. They had invited a couple of other college kids to come down, too--and those girls were less familiar with the family (They were daughters of a lady BK's dad baptized on his mission in Central America.)--so before we came down, Judy (BK's mom) asked me if I would mind sleeping on an air mattress in the living room along with BK (on the couch) and his brother and nephews (on more air mattresses). I, of course did not have a problem at all with this--who could turn down having a "sleep-over" with their boyfriend (and his brother and nephews, of course!)?? We moved the air mattress next to the couch, and we slept holding hands. (Thank goodness my father thinks I have too much "blah blah" on my blog--oh, the things he could find out about if he would only just read it!)
In December, BK turned 22, and we went to St. George to celebrate. While we were there, BK made some sort of reference to getting married in the St. George temple. His mom said something to the effect of: "Well, BK, if you're planning on getting married to someone from, say, Texas, that might not happen." (BK refused to accept this as a logical response. He had always had his heart set on getting married in the St. George temple, and it was really hard for him to swallow that it would probably be in Houston.)
I must interject here with one of the things I loved about dating BK. He always had the utmost respect for me and for our standards. (For those unfamiliar with the Latter-day Saint faith--we don't believe in having pre-marital sexual relations...) I was kind of a ditz sometimes, especially with these out-of-town St. George trips. I didn't really too well fully understand the (ahem) differences between boys and girls and the way they work. I would do dumb things like fall asleep on the couch with him when we'd watch a movie at night at his parents'. We'd wake up at like 3 in the morning, and I'd say, "Let's just sleep here, I'm too tired to get up and go to bed." BK, being the gentlemen he always is, would immediately bolt out off the couch, pick me up and carry me to my own bed, tuck me in and leave. I don't know why I never really got his hint about not making things too easy for him in that department sometimes, but looking back on it, he always handled those precarious situations with respect and virtue. Poor guy--he really did have to carry me to bed and tuck me in on several occasions. And although we probably shouldn't have been falling asleep on the couch together in the first place, I appreciated his dedication to making sure we could have what we wanted most--a temple marriage. That's true love, folks. True love.
Okay, back to the less-awkward subjects.
BK took me to the airport in December to go home. He would be coming a week or so later to see me. I was so looking forward to this!
My dad conveniently enough, decided that it would be a good idea to have a "boy-bonding" trip with just the two of them. So they went one day on a road-trip to Houston to go to the temple. BK had told me he planned on asking my dad for his permission to propose, so my mother and I were anxious to hear how the trip was going. When we knew that they would be on their way home, my mom called my dad. He told us that they hadn't talked about anything important because BK had fallen asleep. Somehow this doesn't surprise me at all.
Anyway.
About an hour later we heard the garage door open. But they didn't come inside. I went out to the garage to pretend to get a soda, and I saw my dad and BK in my dad's truck laughing and having a lovely conversation. As soon as they came inside my mom corralled my dad to the back of the house to get the "scoop." She came out a few minutes later and gave me a big "thumbs up!"
I didn't ask BK about it because I didn't know if he would want to tell me. But the following day, BK and I went on a roadtrip to San Antonio to visit some people from his mission. We were in the car not 5 minutes, when BK said, "Soooo... I talked to your dad yesterday..."
Apparently the phonecall from my mom to my dad had happened to wake BK up. And if the following conversation doesn't convince you as to how eager my parents were to have BK marry me, then I don't know what will.
Dad: So was there something you wanted to talk to me about?
BK: Oh. Yeah.
Dad: Do you love Amy?
BK: Yes, I do.
Dad: Do you want to marry her?
BK: Yes, I do.
Dad: I don't care what you do for a living, you can work at 7-11 for all I care. I just want you to know that I expect you to get my daughter back to the celestial kingdom. Can you do that?
BK: I will try my best.
Dad: Okay, you're welcome to call me whatever you want--Phil, Brother F., dad, whatever...
After BK relayed all this to me there was a pause, and then he said with a huge smile on his face, "This really seems real now. We're really getting married, huh!"
We had planned on not becoming officially engaged for another couple months because we were planning on getting married in July (because my parents said I couldn't get married at 18--so in order to prove some sort of point, we had planned to get married on my birthday in July. As if 19 is that much different. Anyway.)
So the wait for the ring and an "official" engagement commenced.
