This vignette as told in gawkerstruck me as sort of creepy:
But when Mitt began seeing Davies' daughter Ann, the Romney family launched a concerted effort to convert not only Ann but her entire family to Mormonism. And they were wildly successful: Within a year of meeting Ann, Mitt and his father had converted all three of Edward Davies' children.
Not that it didn't lead to happily ever after for her and him. It also rang some long ago and almost totally forgotten bell in my head.
It was a warm fall day. Near the end of the lunch period and chatting away with my claque of friends at a table in the quad, Andrew Bell suddenly appeared and began asking our names. My claque wasn't a clique. We were just a varying group of girls that had known each other from our years in elementary and/or junior high school and that first term in high school had the same lunch period. Andrew Bell needed no introduction. He was the ASB President. Had also been the ASB President when we were in seventh grade and he was one of the important ninth-graders.
When the introductions got to me, Andrew Bell said, “How are you Marie?” The bell rang. Time to get to class. Picking up my books, Andrew Bell asked me if he could walk me to class. While I couldn't fathom any reason why he would want to do that or I would want him to do it, couldn't think of anything to say other than, “Sure.”
As background, should mention that one thing those in our claque had in common is that none of us had ever “gone steady” or had a boyfriend. One or two may have kissed a boy, but we were definitely not among any of the groups that had make-out parties. One of us may have had a date for a junior high homecoming or sweetheart dance. I wasn't that one. Should also mention that there were over 2,000 students in our high school.
My singular memory from being walked to class that day was being extremely uncomfortable and relieved when I got to class. After school, I met up with my best friend Lynn who began to grill me, “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“How did he know your name?”
“That seemed weird to me too. Must have been when I helped Julie get her campaign posters approved. He was on the approval committee.”
Lynn said, “I didn't know you helped Julie get elected.”
Julie was in the “socie” clique, not anything that I aspired to, but she and I had remained friendly over the years. Not mentioning that to Lynn had long before seemed easier.
That evening Andrew Bell called and invited me on a date. That should have been problematical as I was forbidden to date before I was sixteen, but parents often make exceptions to rules for a nice boy or girl.
We went to a party, mostly seniors, and I felt completely out of place. Then to an Italian restaurant for pizza and coke. Most of my energy went into not addressing him as Andrew Bell. For over three years he was Andrew Bell to me. Not Andrew, Andy, or Drew, but Andrew Bell. The initial thrill of a first date ended long before the evening did.
The next day, Lynn wanted to hear all the details. To her disappointment or relief, there weren't any. Did Andrew Bell and I shake hands when he brought me home or did he give me a peck on the cheek? No idea. He was polite. I was polite. And neither of us ever failed to smile and say hello when our paths crossed at school for the rest of the year.
Lynn had a theory. Andrew Bell was being nice to the sophomore class by plucking out one anonymous girl and taking her on a date. Sometimes it was better to accept Lynn's interpretation of events than offer a competing one. It didn't really matter.
One detail from that date that I never forgot but never seemed salient was a brief discussion of religion. We probably didn't get far beyond me saying that “I'm Catholic” and he saying, “I'm Mormon. A convert. My sister led the way for me.” (That much might have been unmemorable if not for the mention of his sister, the most popular girl ever, Diana Bell.) Or I hope not because a year earlier and to satisfy a proselytizing co-worker, Mom and I attended two LDS stake functions and laughed all the way home.
Lynn's theory was wrong. But Andrew Bell was probably pleased that my resistance to his religion spared him the need to spend more time with me.