‘This one’s for us’
A second marriage for both started with glances across a pub
He was standing at the bar, a man about her age, bald and muscular. Tina Hoy, divorced 12 years and fed up with online dating, pointed him out to her sister, saying: “That’s the kind of guy I want to meet.”
The man had noticed Hoy with her long ginger curls, and they exchanged glances through the evening. Finally he came over to her table, explaining, “I’m sorry for staring, but you look like someone I know.”
And with that mouldy pickup line, it all began.
“Really, seriously, she looked familiar,” insists Rob Pulfer with a laugh. Pulfer, 52, and Hoy, 50, are sitting at the Olde Stone Cottage Pub in Scarborough, where they met on Sept. 19, 2013, and where they got married this past February.
It was, corny as it sounds, love at first sight. They chatted a bit that September night, and then he left with a buddy — and Hoy’s business card. “Ten minutes until I hear from him,” she predicted to her sister. Sure enough, he texted and then re- turned to listen to music with them at the pub. That night, Hoy recorded in her phone’s calendar: “Rob at Stone Cottage . . . Going to marry him!”
“It’s crazy,” Hoy explains. “I felt such an attraction, instant total chemistry.”
After that night, Pulfer, a construction worker, and Hoy, a legal assistant, were together as much as possible and talked or texted when they weren’t.
“I just knew it was right, the way we got along together.” ROB PULFER REMARRIED AT AGE 52
Pulfer, who had been separated from his wife for a year, lived in an apartment building close to Hoy’s townhouse. So close, they could see each other’s bedroom windows and they started shining flashlights at each other like 8-year-old kids. “That was pretty goofy,” says Pulfer.
Only one potential deal breaker came to light: hockey. She’s a faithful member of Leafs nation, he’s an avid Flyers fan. “I forgave him,” she jokes. Their split loyalties became a friendly trash-talking rivalry.
After five months, he moved in with her. “We’re too old to waste time,” says Pulfer, the father of a teenage son and daughter. His son lived with them before leaving for school. Hoy has two sons, ages 28 and 20. The younger resides with her, and the older one is on his own.
This past October, Hoy accompanied her mother and aunt on a trip to England. When she flew back, she walked through Pearson’s arrivals gates and saw, amid the waiting throng, Pulfer holding a big sign, “Tina, Welcome Home.” When their eyes met, he flipped down the bottom of the sign to reveal a new message: “Tina, Will You Marry Me?”
“I was like hitting old ladies trying to get through the crowd to him to see if that’s what I really saw,” says Hoy.
He headed toward her but kept bumping into people. When he finally reached her, he got down on bended knee.
“She never said, ‘Yes,’ ” remembers Pulfer, “just, ‘Rob, Rob, Rob.’ ”
“I was totally shocked,” says Hoy. While he was down on one knee, she recalls glancing over his shoulder. “Just two little people were clapping. The rest of Pearson was shuffling along, unnoticing.”
Pulfer’s divorce had been finalized only the month before, and Hoy had thought it would be a long time before he’d want to marry again.
“I just knew it was right, the way we got along together,” explains Pulfer. The two sit silently for a moment, smiling and staring at each other.
Hoy and Pulfer — both of their previous marriages lasted 17 years — have changed this time around, they explain. “Life’s too short to argue. ‘Yes, dear,’ works very well,” says Pulfer. “But if something really bothers you, you have to let it out.” That’s Hoy’s hurdle too, not bottling up problems, no more stiff upper lip and then losing it over something silly.
She comments frequently on Pulfer’s thoughtfulness. “I wasn’t always that way,” he explains. “I’ve learned it’s not all about me.”
Nor will this marriage be about having and raising kids. “This one’s for us,” says Hoy.
So on Feb. 28, they took the plunge again in an intimate wedding in the Stone Cottage Pub’s upstairs room, with fireplace and Gothic arched window. The 35 guests signed not a book, but the by-then legendary “Will You Marry Me?” sign from Pearson. As part of the short ceremony, the newlyweds jumped the broom, an African-American custom, in honour of Hoy’s mother’s side of the family.
The bride wore a black-and-white-patterned dress she designed, and her two sons gave her away. The groom sported Flyers cufflinks and socks, presents from the bride.
But Pulfer was not to be outdone. When they exchanged rings, Hoy saw his finger — he’d stencilled on a blue TML, the Leafs insignia. A sure sign of love.
“That’s the only time you’ll ever see that blue and white crap on me,” says Pulfer, laughing. This story is part of an occasional series on remarriage. It looks at recently wed couples where both partners are taking a chance on marriage for the second, third or more time. If you might like to be included in the series, please tell us a bit about how you met and why you decided to wed again. Email life@thestar.ca and write remarriage in the subject line.