Beginnings…

Bryan and I loved telling the story of how we met and started dating. It’s funny and silly and so perfectly us. I think it’s worth writing down.

At the beginning of September 2008, I started a job at Whitman College after moving to Walla Walla from Yakima (all of that’s a much longer story for a different day). I worked in Memorial, the main building on campus with the clocktower and the grand steps, as the administrative assistant to the associate (?) vice president for Development. The school was ramping up for the public phase of a capital campaign and they were fleshing out the Development department to accommodate that. My friends A’ala and Leesa were hired around the same time and while we’ve all left Whitman, I still count them as dear to my heart.

One particular day, this incredibly handsome fella in jeans and a long-sleeved white pull-over came in to get something signed by Nancy Jungmann, the executive assistant to the CFO and Controller who also happened to be a notary. He also had to sign something so he bent over her desk. The view was priceless. Anyone who knew Bryan Lubbers knows EXACTLY what I mean. At one point, he looked over at me and smiled. I.Was.Lost. He turned back to Nancy and I looked over at Leesa, wiggling my eyebrows, smiling, and nodding. She shook her head no. And I kept nodding yes. This part still makes me smile. I had no idea who that handsome guy was, but I knew I’d like to get to see him again please and thank you.

As I had just moved to Walla Walla, I wanted to meet new people and was hoping to date. The best advice I got was to do activities I really enjoyed in order to meet folks who shared my interests. Gals in the Development Office encouraged me to join the Whitman staff choir that was gearing up for a Christmas concert. Perfect. At that very first practice I noticed that really handsome guy over in the bass section.

According to Bryan, he also noticed a new face in the soprano section. Apparently when he managed the help desk he knew everyone on campus, but once he moved into his new position in Maxey, he didn’t have the same awareness of new people coming to Whitman. He said he leaned over to Mike Osterman, a fellow WCTS colleague, and asked “who’s the brunette in the soprano section?” To which Mike asked, “Jesus, Lubbers, are you always on the make?” And Bryan said a very resounding, “YES!” All this was happening while Paul Dennis was trying to direct us.

Bryan and I compared notes frequently about this meeting and I learned that he had some techniques for finding out if a woman was interested. He explained that he knew when he was interested, but the key was to find out if the woman was. So, with that in mind he would ask a woman her name, not offering his. If she asked for his, then there’s a “buy in signal” (his term). But one of the things that consistently happened between us was that I threw curveballs at every turn. At the end of practice, Bryan came up to me to ask my name. I smiled and told him. And then said, “And your name is Bryan because it says so on your shirt.” He was wearing one of his WCTS staff shirts. Thwarted.

We had a number of practices and a bit of flirting before we had the dress rehearsal. Shannon Shearer, another colleague and friend of mine from Development, was going to be my ride home. At the end of that final practice, I turned to Shannon and told her she wasn’t my ride, if she caught my drift, which she did as Bryan was approaching. He asked me for my number, and in my nervousness, I gave him the wrong one. Poor guy. Thwarted again. But I did ask him for a ride home to my apartment at Clinton Court. On the drive home, I asked if he had had dinner and he said no. So I invited him up to an apartment with laundry on the couch and very little options to eat. What was I thinking? Come to find out, he had eaten before dropping Mary off at youth group, but I didn’t learn that until much later. He said he wanted to learn more about me and he wasn’t about to turn down being invited up to my place.

I had eggs, cheese and some pico de gallo for omelettes and fixins for a salad. I put Bryan to work on making a salad with VERY poor tools–no peeler and dull knives. While he was busy, I took the clean laundry back to my bedroom so he wouldn’t notice the mess. When I got back to the kitchen, I observed he was whittling a carrot with the worst knife in America, so I teased him. He said “you can’t ask me to do a job and give me bad tools and then tease me for it.” “Oh yes I can.” We sat down for dinner and I noticed he talked a lot. I don’t remember a thing he said because all I could think was “I have this hot guy in my apartment eating dinner and WHAT WAS I THINKING, but damn, he’s really good looking and he seems to be enjoying himself and man he talks a lot and wow. Wow. Wow.” We finished dinner and he did the smoothest end of a first date I have ever experienced. He shook my hand, pulled me in for a half hug, kissed me on the cheek, and was out the door before I knew what happened.

Hot damn! That just happened.

The next day at work, I received an envelope that said “Campus Mail–Becci Moore – Development. Inside was a potato peeler with a note attached that said: Becci- Thanks for dinner last night–Now it’s my turn… Best- Bryan (I absolutely saved that note.) I laughed and was so delighted. The perfect gift. The perfect note. The perfect indicator that we would have more meals together. There’s something so elegant about our beginnings involving music and cooking. Of course I messaged my roommate, Heather, who was working at Coldwell Banker First Realty, the property management company and real estate office that takes care of Clinton Court. And I’m sure I let the gals in the office know too. Delighted. Absolutely over-the-moon delighted by a potato peeler and the promise of more time with him.

The evening of the concert came and I had a pencil skirt whose slit kept ripping. Awkward. And of course he noticed. Bryan invited me to the Marc after the event was over. As we were walking outside, Donna Ledford, who I didn’t know well, but was connected to Heather and Coldwell and Bryan from his time working at Banner Bank, looked at us both and said with delight, “You’re the potato peeler guy?!” Bryan looked at me with a little curiosity for how quickly news traveled and I was mortified because of course everyone in this town knows everyone and news like a romantic potato peeler makes its rounds. We had a lovely evening at the Marc and soon after Bryan invited me to a Christmas party out at friends in Waitsburg about a week and a half away from that evening. It coincided with a childhood friend’s band playing that same night at what was once the Jim German Bar.

That week and a half was interminable. He didn’t call or email. And neither did I. I remember going down to Cheri Ruzicka’s basement office in Mem to lament over my inability to eat or sleep and the constant nerves. And she just listened and smiled. She’d known Bryan for years and she was such a comforting and loving friend and the perfect person to complain to. The evening of the party came and it looked like snow. Bryan picked me up in his old blue pick-up, Squeak, aptly named. We had such a lovely drive and great time at the party. Then we headed into Waitsburg and listened to my friend’s band play. At the bar, with those gourmet cocktails, Bryan and I were talking and laughing and he got this look on his face and said “hell with it” and kissed me. Our first kiss was one we talked about with hushed and reverent tones ever after and it could not have been more perfect.

Bryan took me home and we made out a bit in the pick-up before I left to go up to my apartment. We always chuckled about it because the next morning Mary said to her Dad, “Dad, it was so cold last night it frosted INSIDE the pick-up truck.” He and I were pretty much a sealed deal after that.

I mention all these people to show just how much our courtship and marriage were intertwined with the beloved members of our community. Bryan would often quote Frank Herbert with “Beginnings are such delicate times.” They were delicate, delicious, and so wonderful.