He Called the Wrong Anne

May 19th, 1988.  I was sporting a awesome paisley shirt.  I had bleach blond hair and a braided tail.  I was working at the local hardware store.  After work, I was going out to my boyfriend's farm to see the baby pigs.  I had been dating Justin for about six weeks.  He was a year older.  He was farming with his brother in law.  I am not the country girl type, but I was liking this guy quite a bit. 
I had known Justin for years, but not well.  His sister was friends with my sister.  Justin had a lot of problems with drugs in high school.   Got himself cleaned up and had found a good life with his sister and brother in law.  I felt like this was a guy that could be worth it.  He wasn't partying, he had future plans and he treated me well. 
So there I was, May 19th, 1988.  I called his house from work to let him know what time I was leaving and all those details.  He wasn't home, left the message with his sister to "call Anne."  Pretty simple right.
Fast forward to 9pm.  The store is closing and I had not heard from Justin.   My manager, Stephanie says to me "you can come over to Dixie's house with me and you can finally meet Danny."  Dixie, Stephanie's good friend, I knew.  She had been in the store a couple of times.  Danny, her son, I only knew of.  Stephanie had told me about him, but was always adamant that we never date because she didn't want to be responsible for that!
I had nothing else happening so hanging out with my 35 year old manager and her friends seemed like the perfect thing to do two nights before I graduated from high school. 
Now, I must tell you this.  When Stephanie said "and you can finally meet Danny" my stomach did a flip flop, back handspring kind of thing.  I kid you not, an Olympic type feat.  Thought that was odd. 
So over to Dixie's we go.  Dixie lived on the second floor.  The door was on the first floor and the stairs were inside the apartment.  Danny answered.  He led the way up the stairs.  Keep in mind that Danny was 16, size 27 inch waist and maybe 1% body fat.  Needless to say, but I will say it anyway, nice view. 
So I get to know this guy and he seems nice enough.  And honestly, I don't think I was giving Justin much thought at that point.  But as it turns out, he gave me no thought at all...
I called him the next day to let him know that I was going to try something new.  He wanted me to know that he was going to go back to his old girlfriend.  His old girlfriend, the one he did drugs with, the one that was toxic for him, the one that he called the night before instead of calling me, because her name was Anne, too. 

In July of 1990, I was five months married to the guy that answered the door that night. Justin, having returned to the drug infested life that he had escaped from previously, was broke, had lost the farm and had run out of options.  My mom sent me his obituary.  He had killed himself.  He was 22.
When I same that I am fortunate, lucky and blessed.  It really begins here.  There is no guessing what could have been had I seen those baby pigs.  But that doesn't matter much now.  He called the one that he really wanted that night and that I followed my dream up the stairs.