People always say that the best love stories begin when you’re not looking for them. For Amy, that couldn’t have been more true. It started with an enthusiastic friend who had discovered a new mission in life: setting Amy up. She called one day, bursting with excitement, and said, “Amy, I met this great guy today! He drove in on his motorcycle and he is so cute. Can I pass him your number?” Instant reflex: “No, absolutely not.” A motorcycle? Not a chance. But the name… the name lingered…John Rowett. Amy felt a spark of recognition. She remembered him from when she was a little girl, shopping with her mom at the IGA. Her mother used to whisper, “There’s Mr. Smiley,” because the friendly young man who worked there always greeted them with the biggest grin. It was a warm childhood memory—sweet, familiar, and a little surreal. Still—cute or not, smiley or not—she wasn’t planning to date a guy who rode a motorcycle. But her friend, full of hope and determination, passed along the number anyway. See more