HOW I MET HER MOTHER

A summer of love leads to family

Although April Fools' Day jokes are best played early in the morning, some happen to linger on well past good timing and wiggle their way into the late afternoon. The colorful clock in the comfortable room at Texas Children's Hospital read 4:00 p.m., and in our minds this signaled the end of any reasonable patience with this particular gag. Lourdess had been anesthetized well before 9:00 a.m., and despite Michele's persistent inquiries to the beleaguered surgical hostesses and nurses, we'd heard nothing. The smart, young doctors who had conducted the auditory brainstem response procedure on our baby girl had disappeared without a trace. This gold-standard hearing test and analysis should have taken no more than two hours. We had endured at least eight unsettling hours of anticipation.

Just before our tolerance of the waiting game reached a boiling point, the youthful-looking doctor in a pristine white coat, flanked by three residents, parted the doors on the opposite side of the room where our baby slept peaceably and strode purposely toward us. I grabbed Michele's hand when I read the doctor's face and body language. His stoic countenance and solemn proclamation caused my heart to sink. I fought courageously but without success in stopping the waterworks. My mind made an urgent plea: Be strong now, Cal, be strong. Michele's grip was firm and desperate. Tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"Mr. and Mrs. King, I can't recommend cochlear implants for your daughter." He paused, shook his head, and took a measured breath.

In that instant all our prayers and faith over the last six months that Lourdess might one day hear our loving voices melted away. The support of our family and friends had been for naught. Even though Lourdess had failed several other ABRs, this one was supposed to be different. Maybe the other experts had been right. God had clearly decided that we would be the perfect parents to love and rear a profoundly deaf child, despite the fact that that destiny had never been in our plans. Our years together were supposed to be uncomplicated and magical, including my promise to give Michele the perfect baby girl she had always wanted.

In that moment when my loving wife's eyes beckoned to me for comfort, I gently touched her face and searched deep within for the right words to say. Neither one of us noticed that the doctor wasn't quite finished with his assessment of our daughter's condition. My mind had already wandered back to the wonderful beginning of our journey together toward dreams of white picket fences. It had all started with a simple phone call nearly three years before, just a month after the Y2K scare.

* * *

Tom covered the mouthpiece of the phone and called to his confidant in an exasperated tone. "Hey, Michele, would you come in here, please?"

The tall woman's eyes moved gracefully from her workstation to her boss's spacious executive office overlooking the vast Houston center city skyline. Clearly her boss had been agitated and she would have to settle him down as only she could. He'd been like a gracious father to her these last several months. She in turn tried to make his life in the office as peaceful as she could.

Michele was determined to make something of her life. She had moved to Texas from the Midwest with her two young boys to make a fresh start and better future. Tom watched over her with the care of a doting father. He cast a wary eye upon any stray trying to swoop down upon her. She returned the kindness by being the most attentive assistant she could be.

Tom greeted his protégé with a smile even though he had just slammed down the receiver of his phone after grousing with a misguided colleague.

Michele giggled and then asked, "What's up, boss man? Don't let anyone get you all worked up today. It ain't worth it!"

Her warm voice immediately calmed him.

"You're right as usual. Life is way too short. Anyway, I need you to get on the phone with that new guy Cal King over in operations and set up a meeting. Let me tell you he is one sharp young executive. He's making some changes over there that make a lot of sense. They should have brought him in a long time ago instead of guys like the one I just talked to."

"Sure, Tom. Do you want go to his office, or should I have him come here?"

"Have him come down here. He probably needs a break from his shop."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll get him," said Michele.

A few days later, after a lighthearted exchange on the phone with Michele, I headed downtown to meet with her boss. I rode the elevator up to the executive floor of an imposing skyscraper and wandered around the eerily quiet office space in search of the lady with the silky smooth voice who made me laugh out loud over the phone. A young man noticed me and kindly pointed me in the right direction to Tom's enclave.

When I rounded a corner, I saw a woman so stunning that my eyes hurt. Oh my God, she is fine ... super fine! I hoped my face conveyed nothing but the customary professional courtesy instead of the ocean of infatuation washing over me like a tsunami. Over the years I had developed an attraction to tall women. When she stood up, we were eye to eye. I slipped to the very edge of her personal space to behold her beauty and stature. The distinct fragrance of her perfume danced in the air.

"Hi, you must be Cal. I'm Michele. We spoke on the phone. It's so good to meet you."

My normal bravado evaporated. The young, tongue-tied nerd who didn't know how to interact with girls suddenly reappeared. She bailed me out by extending her hand. The softness and warmth of her gentle touch shot a soothing wave up and down my back. A voice screamed in my head: Say something, dummy!

"Hey, you! It's good to finally put a face with a name! How's it going?" I said.

Just then Tom stepped out of his office and extended a firm handshake. I wished it had taken him longer to come out to greet me.

"Hey, Cal. Come on in."

"Do I have to? I'd rather stay out here and chat with this young lady!" Finally the man of charm and wit returned.

Michele giggled and then nudged me ever so gently toward the expansive office.

"You better get in there and talk to him, or he'll be a grouch and it will take me the rest of the day to get him right again."

Tom shook his head.

"She's right. Let's go."

It was all I could do to concentrate on Tom or anything he said after seeing Michele. My mind lingered on her lovely frame, the smile that warmed...