In the gold family station wagon, Meredith drove from North Carolina to Austin, Texas, following in her big brother’s footsteps. She was ready to live a post-collegiate life filled with live music, tacos, and cold dips in Barton Springs. She was headed to her new house on Poquito street with roommates she met at Pearl Street Co-Op. She was 22 and single, but within minutes of parking her car, the very first person she was going to meet in her new city was her future husband. 

Will, then 29, was watering his flowers and listening to screamo, oblivious to the day’s future significance. He was newly single himself, and had big plans for a move to LA in a year’s time. He stood on the porch of his tiny house and surveyed his new home. “The Treehouse” as it became commonly known was on stilts and in the backyard of a larger house. His new neighbor came out to introduce herself, car keys still in hand. She smiled broadly up at him. He smiled back down at his future wife.

In her phone she wrote “Will Elliott Neighbor Boy” when he gave her his number. She gleefully collected his mail when it arrived in her mailbox, and delighted in the frequency of his invitations to drink 7 dollar gas station wine on his porch. He found himself reawoken by her ability to listen, and realized she was becoming his favorite friend to spend time with. He called her his “yes friend” because she was always game for an adventure– whether it was going for a swim, meeting for a drink, or even subbing into the lineup for the Bounty Hunters, Will’s softball team known citywide for having one of the most impressive losing streaks in all of coed sport. While the two warmed up before her inaugural game, Will’s first toss missed her glove entirely, hitting her squarely in the eye. He felt his soul leave his body. Not only would this be the end of their friendship, he would have to commit seppuku to save himself from the lifelong shame. But before he even had time to turn beet red with humiliation, he noticed Meredith was already laughing,  picking the ball up and tossing it back. Not only was the night not ruined, but Meredith would go on to score a run on a slide into home plate, and even chug a few beers with the team after the game. That night, Will’s fondness for Meredith had grown even more. He knew she was thoughtful and kind, but she was also a whole lotta fun. And tough–they raise ’em right in North Carolina.

An unexpected intimacy had developed between them. One night, in a moment of bravery and inspiration, they shared short stories they both had written. As an excuse to hang out even more, they started giving one another writing prompts. Over red wine and orange juice, (Meredith’s preferred cocktail of her early 20’s), they read aloud to one another while trying not to blush under each other’s gaze. But Meredith was on-again/off-again with an old flame and Will was nearing closer and closer to his moving date. The idea had settled between them that friendship was all this could be, and though he always checked for her car in the driveway when he got home, and though she always found excuses to read outside under his porch on even the hottest of Texas days, they wondered if this relationship would ultimately be like Jennifer Paige’s 90’s pop classic– ♩Just…a little crush. ♩

And so, while they never once kissed in the neighbors era, they did pour themselves into words– on the page and on the porch. When the date finally arrived and Will packed the last of his bags and hit the road with his sister, Meredith felt something akin to heartbreak. Will left a letter on her front steps. “Our conversations were legendary,” he wrote. “I’ll miss them and you.” (And yes, Meredith still has this letter taped into one of her many journals.)

But if anyone knows our groom, they know it’s hard to keep him out of Texas. A text from Will Elliott Neighbor Boy seemed to arrive like clockwork every month: “I’m back in town! Wanna go to Barton Springs?” Meredith always made herself available. And on one of these fated visits to their favorite watering hole, while sprawled out on a blanket sunbathing, Meredith announced that she was officially and unequivocally single. Will immediately felt the magnitude of the situation.  For the first time, they were free to speak openly about their mutual attraction, and as the 18th century poet and philosopher Samuel Taylor Coleridge once wrote, “be hella vibin’ on each other’s drip.” On Will’s next visit to Austin, he took Meredith on a date to a premiere at the Paramount and later kissed her on her front stoop, just feet from his old treehouse.

The following two years were a thrill and a blur– a thlur. Now they were playing darts in the dark at The Grackle, electric with every touch. Every few weeks began a new countdown to when they would see each other again. They stayed up late talking on the phone and grew closer and closer. A corner of Mere’s bedroom was designated for Will’s suitcase and at LAX the goodbyes were becoming more and more tearful. In Austin, Meredith had begun another relationship– with Will’s mom and sister, leaving dinner with them one night with the profound thought, “I want IN with this family.” 

In the summer of 2017, on a train in China visiting her parents, Meredith realized she was in love. She thought of Will and simultaneously thought about bettering herself: of making mosaics, of waking up early, of working in the garden. And meanwhile back in LA, Will was looking around his succulent garden home wondering how Meredith would react when he asked her to move in with him.  He was in love with her too, because now he couldn’t go for a run on the trails, meet his friends for a beer at the Holloway or even cozy up for a night in without thinking that it would be made better with her by his side. 

It took some time, but a year and a half later, Meredith was once again driving to Will. They hung up the Poquito sign her brother had made them over the detached bedroom Will and his dad had illegally built her. For the first time as a couple, they got to delight in domesticity. They bought new sheets and put together bookshelves. Meredith organized the cupboards and brought in house plants. Will reupholstered a chair, then gave up because reupholstering chairs is hard. They walked to Dodger’s games through Elysian Park, and ate vegetables from their garden, and mosaic’d the cabinets, and watched the once sparse bachelor pad become a vibrant, tchotchke-filled wonderland.

For four years Meredith and Will lived in their succulent garden home, which was a frequent party hub for all their friends. Meredith was attending births, and filling the fridge with placentas. Will was baking bread, and trying not to mistake the placentas in the fridge for leftovers. They hunkered down when the pandemic hit, and then slowly reacquainted themselves with the world when it eased up. In the front yard, they found a small nest of tiny eggs and for months tended to little hummingbird babies. But as all hummingbird babies must eventually leave the nest, Meredith and Will realized they too were ready to leave the little nest they had built. The LA chapter had been beautiful, but being far from family had begun to weigh on the two of them. Meredith once again found herself driving– but this time in a caravan with Will, who had put walkie talkies in both their cars for the long road back to Texas.

Will had some other plans too. While Meredith was building up the Austin wing of her doula business, Will was building a ring. He found a Carolina Blue sapphire and paired it with his grandmother’s diamonds. He took her brother and sister out for a drink and called her parents asking for permission. For her 31st birthday, he drove Meredith out to Marfa and brought her hiking in Big Bend. Perched on a plateau overlooking the valley, he thanked her for all these years being his “yes friend,” and hoped she would say yes one more time. Up the mountain and unbeknownst to them, a stranger pulled out his camera to capture the moment– Meredith gazing down to him, overcome with joy and radiantly beautiful. And Will on one knee– looking up to her– strong, manly, and totally not crying.

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If we were to turn this story into a memoir, each and every one of our family and friends would have a devoted chapter to express how vital you were in making us the exact people we are, setting the stage for us to be able to come together and fall in love. We love each and every one of you, and can’t thank you enough for the support you have given us over the years. We cannot wait to celebrate with you in May!