When You Meet the One

It was the first warm spring day in Philadelphia, 1953. Fairmont Park was hosting its weekly Sunday open-air market, which was full of vendors selling all sorts of food, clothing, and household goods. Freddie, a blond-haired, blue-eyed, all-American fellow, was out exploring the market with his buddies. With a vanilla ice cream in one hand and a hot dog in the other, he made his way through the market with no particular destination in mind.

“Hey Freddie? You see any good-lookin’ chicks?” asked Brady, Freddie’s red-headed freckle-faced friend. “None that would take a second look at you, Brady-boy,” he replied with a light punch to Brady’s arm. “You’re one to talk, Freddie. When was the last time you got a date?” Brady shot back. “Hey, can we just accept the fact that you’re both bad with the chicks and move on?” interrupted Jack, the tall, lanky one. “Yea, you boys won’t be sayin’ that for long, just wait till’ I get a date before any of you,” said Freddie with a grin. “Might wanna put that ice cream and dog down before you talk to any of em’,” Brady said, smacking the hot dog out of Freddie’s hand. “Hey, you owe me a hot dog!” shouted Freddie, trapping Brady in a head lock with his free arm. Teddy, the thick, wrestler of the friend group grabbed both of their collars and pulled them apart, “Knock it off! You’re gonna get us kicked out…AGAIN!” The boys laughed and fixed their shirts. “So where to now, boys?” asked Jack. Freddie surveyed the market, “Uh…well there’s a firework stand, a guy sellin’ caps, a fruit…” Freddie trailed off when he saw the girl working at the Italian food stand a few yards away.

It was the first time Freddie had ever been speechless in his life. The girl was stunning, with long, brown curls falling down to her tan shoulders. Her eyes were a beautiful, hazelnut brown, framed by long, dark lashes. She was thin, and tall for most girls. She was wearing a lovely, floral-print dress and white, lacey gloves. There was just one problem, she was Italian, and most likely a Catholic. He was a protestant, and the two didn’t mix. Not in those days. But he just had to talk to her. Freddie knew he couldn’t let his buddies see, so he made an excuse. “Hey pals, I ain’t feelin’ so hot. I think that hot dog and ice cream are getting to me. I’m gonna find a lavatory or something,” he whined pretending to be queasy. The other guys backed up a bit. “Ok, Freddo’. We’ll meet up with ya later. Don’t throw up on nothin’,” said Teddy before walking away. The second the boys were out of sight, Freddie b-lined straight for the girl of his dreams.

The stand was full of hanging, dried meats, herbs, cheeses, and dry pasta. Freddie didn’t know what half of the stuff was, but he had to sound convincing, “Hi there, I uh, I was wondering if you have any fresh mutsarella,” he asked in a horrible, American accent. The girl giggled, “You mean mozzarella?” The word sounded so beautiful coming from her mouth. “Yea, that stuff…can’t get enough of it. You uh, you got any?” Freddie asked rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Unfortunately, no. We didn’t have time to make any this week. We do have some other cheeses if you’d like,” the girl replied, gesturing to the assortment of other cheeses. “Ok, how bout’ you pick the best one and I’ll take that,” suggested Freddie, hoping he was coming off as charming. The girl walked over to a medium sized wheel of cheese, cut a wedge out, and wrapped it up, “Here, it’s called pecorino.” Freddie couldn’t care less about the cheese, but he took it excitedly. Their hands slightly touched during the exchange, and Freddie felt his heart drop. “Say, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going. “I’m Georgina, Georgina Bianchi,” she replied, holding her hand out with a smile. Freddie shook her hand a little too excitedly, “I’m Freddie, Freddie Gunherd.” Georgina laughed, “That’s quite the handshake, Freddie. Careful you don’t rip my hand off.” Freddie quickly pulled his hand back, “Sorry, sorry. I just…” he didn’t know what to say. He was at a loss for words. Georgina smiled, “Well, it was nice to meet you, Freddie.”

Freddie left the market that day feeling defeated. He didn’t know when or if he’d see her again. The following week, however, while walking home with his parents from Sunday church service, Freddie was shocked to see Georgina and her family leaving the Catholic church across the street. She looked just as beautiful as she did at the market. Freddie had to act quick if he was going to talk to her. “Hey Ma, Pa, I forgot I promised Brady I’d help him wash his car today. I’ll catch up with you later,” he lied. “That’s nice of you, Freddie. Just be home in time for dinner,” his mother replied giving him a kiss on the cheek. Freddie waited until they had turned the corner and then quickly jogged to the other side of the street.

Georgina was standing outside of the church chatting with a few girls her age. Freddie decided he’d play it cool. Casually, with his hands in his pockets, Freddie walked by the group of girls whistling. “Freddie?” he heard as he passed. He whirled around on his heels as if to be caught off guard, “Oh, Georgina! Hi!” Georgina said goodbye to her friends and walked over to Freddie on the sidewalk. “What are you doing here?” she asked with a bright smile. Freddie tried to keep his composure, “Oh, well, I uh, I go to Holy Assembly down the street. I was just on my way home. So, you go to St. Michael’s?” he asked, immediately realizing it was a dumb question as she had just come out of there. “Yes, my family and I do. They offer mass in Italian, so my parents like to come here,” she replied. There was an awkward pause before Freddie finally asked, “Why don’t we go out sometime?” Georgina looked surprised, but happy, “Yea, I would like that! How about next Friday night? My parents don’t need me at the shop then.”

Freddie could hardly contain his excitement, “Next Friday! Great! I’ll meet you at your place?” he asked. “Sure! I live in the Garden Apartments on 45th street by Johny’s Deli. I’ll meet you out front around 6?” suggested Georgina. “Next Friday, 6 o’clock, Garden Apartments. Sounds like a plan!” he said, unable to control his excitement. Georgina nodded and started to walk away. She looked back and smiled, sending butterflies through Freddie’s insides.

Friday night finally came, and Freddie had the perfect date planned out: a picnic in the park at sunset. He had packed a basket with a few sandwiches, a container of his mom’s potato salad, a checkered blanket, and a couple candles. He put on his best button-down shirt and a pressed pair of trousers and headed for the door of his townhouse. “Freddie, where you going?” asked his dad from the living room. “I got a date, Pa! I won’t be too late,” he shouted back as he left, not waiting for a response. The walk wasn’t too far to Georgina’s place, only about 15 minutes. Freddie was so anxious; he could feel himself start to sweat. All of his nerves went away, however, the instant he saw Georgina waiting outside of her apartment building. Her hair was curled and pinned back, showing her beautiful face. She had on red lipstick to match her shirt, which she had tucked into her flowing white skirt. She turned and locked eyes with him, and a big smile spread across her face. “You look lovely, Georgina,” Freddie said in disbelief. Georgina blushed, “Thank you, Freddie. You clean up nicely,” she replied with a wink. The two walked to the park, which was only minutes from Georgina’s apartment. They found a nice spot under a tree, and Freddie spread out the blanket.

“I brought something,” Georgina said, pulling out a paper bag from her purse. It was a bottle of merlot, a nice one too. “Holy smokes! How’d you get that?” asked Freddie, looking it over. “I took it from my parent’s shop. They won’t miss it,” she confessed. Georgina opened the bottle with a wine opener she brought and offered it to Freddie, “Here, try it!” Freddie took a big swig, “Wow! That’s some good wine!” Georgina laughed, “It’s better than communion wine, that’s for sure!” Freddie began laying the food he brought out on the blanket, “I can’t believe you actually drink wine at mass.” Georgina grabbed half of a sandwich, “You don’t?” she asked as she took a bite. “No way! We have grape juice. I guess alcohol is only allowed outside of church for us,” said Freddie, biting into his half of the sandwich. “I must say, I was surprised you asked me out,” Georgina said taking a sip of wine. “Why’s that?” Freddie asked. “Well, I’m Catholic and you’re…not. Doesn’t that bother you?” she asked nervously. “Doll, you could believe in aliens and I would’ve still asked you out,” he replied with a laugh. Georgina blushed again and took another bite of her sandwich, “I bet you didn’t tell your family you were going out with some Italian girl, though.” She was right about that. “I don’t tell them anything. Don’t take it personally,” Freddie joked. “Listen,” he continued, “I asked you out because you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, and so far, you’re the sweetest too. That’s the truth,” Freddie said, picking the grass in front of him, nervously. “How much wine have you had?” Georgina joked, taking the bottle away from him. Freddie chuckled, “Enough to give me the courage to say that.”

That night, they talked about everything: their families, their friends, what they wanted in life. It was so easy to share things with each other. Freddie hadn’t been open with anyone like that before in his life. Even if he was a little drunk, everything he said was true, and he remembered every word of their conversation. It was almost midnight when Georgina finally had to go home. “When will I see you again?” Freddie asked as he shoved all the blanket back in the basket. “Whenever you want to,” Georgina replied, bending down to help pack up the picnic. Without hesitation, Freddie leaned over and kissed her. He wasn’t sure if it was too forward, but he was sure glad he did it. Georgina was surprised at first, but then leaned in and kissed him back. Fireworks went off in Freddie’s head, and his chest felt like an explosion. When they pulled apart, Freddie looked into Georgina’s eyes, “So, this is what they talk about,” he said in a daze. “What they talk about?” Georgina asked confused. “Ya know, when you meet the one. That feeling,” Freddie explained. Georgina laughed, “You did drink too much didn’t you?” Freddie shook his head, “We’ll just see, Georgina Bianchi. We’ll just see.”

50 years later, Freddie still reminds his wife, Georgina, that he was right.