Tinder match leads to love
Lake Livingston brides say ‘I do’ at the Astorian
New Year’s Eve has always been a tough holiday in Robin Brown’s book. Nine years ago, on Dec. 31, her mother fell asleep and never woke up.
Then in 2015, after Robin’s collegiate football team, Michigan State, lost the Cotton Bowl to Alabama’s Crimson Tide, the longtime Houstonian found herself alone in an Arlington hotel room on New Year’s Eve, with only Dr Pepper and popcorn to nurse the defeat. So she opened Tinder’s dating app. She wanted to see “what the girls in Dallas were like.”
Jenny Block, a vivacious blond travel writer, lit up her phone screen — Robin swiped right. And on New Year’s morning, they were matched.
“What part of Dallas do you live in?” Jenny asked via message.
“Houston,” Robin typed back.
Texts flew nonstop over the next three days. Robin, a Cerner Alignment executive, suggested they try an old-school phone conversation, but that wasn’t Jenny’s style. Besides, she’d already developed a serious crush.
“I had been in enough relationships and decided I wasn’t going to do the coy thing. I was going to be super honest,” Jenny said. “I’m going to be 48 (years old) next month, and there didn’t seem to be any point messing around.” So she asked when they could meet in person.
Robin made her move. “What are you doing next Saturday?” she offered. “Then I got back into my car and drove to Dallas.”
It was worth the trip; their first date was a knockout.
“I always try to put my best foot forward. You only have one chance to make a good impression,” Robin said. She went all out and sent Jenny a car and driver with chocolates, champagne and specific instructions — “Wear a little black dress and pearls” — for the big night. “I’m a good planner and hopeless romantic. I thought she was pretty amazing and knew I only had one shot.”
But her best-laid dinner-anda-show plans nearly went awry. The piano player at Perry’s Steakhouse took his break at the exact moment Jenny was scheduled to make her grand entrance, and Robin had to ask the driver to stall. Everything had to be perfect.
“I don’t really believe in love at first sight, but something happened when we locked eyes … everyone was beaming at us from the bar,” Jenny said. “It was very rom-com.”
The two women chatted for hours without even looking at the menu. That’s when Jenny realized how powerful their chemistry was.
“There are two things I look for: the click and the crave,” she said. “The crave is what happens when I’m really into you and realize this could be that one person I’m into for the rest of my life.”
Jenny took a chance and asked to kiss her date. “It’s so cliché, but afterward I felt like, ‘Whoa, I could totally marry this person.’ ”
On the third date, Jenny surprised Robin with a lastminute getaway.
“She took me on an Olivia Cruise, which was amazing because no one since my parents has ever taken me on vacation,” Robin said. “It was an all-women cruise and a whirlwind. We’re the kind of Queen Mary folks who like to dress for dinner.”
Their long-distance relationship was officially on. Six months into the romance, no one was more shocked than Robin that she’d finally found “the one.”
“I have these rules that sometimes get in my way,” Robin said. “I always think you have to know a person for four seasons; the crazy will come out in four seasons. But we’d spent six months together, and I didn’t want to be with anyone else.”
She decided to pop the question on Mackinac Island, an idyllic Michigan town, for Jenny’s birthday. But another snafu almost ruined Robin’s elaborate scheme: She forgot the engagement ring.
“We were headed to the airport when Robin completely freaked out that she didn’t have her briefcase. I thought it was so weird,” Jenny recalled, laughing.
Fortunately, quick-thinking friends sent the precious cargo to the airport in an Uber, just in time to make the couple’s flight.
Robin proposed on the Grand Hotel’s sprawling deck at sunset. Jenny said yes.
Two years passed before they tied the knot. In 2017, after Jenny’s daughter, Emily, from a previous marriage, enrolled at Stephen F. Austin University, she moved out of Dallas and into Robin’s home on Lake Livingston.
“We have a lake family; about 50 or 60 gay couples have places out there,” Robin said. “We have this huge backyard and a dock and considered getting married there, but logistically, it would be a nightmare.”
A friend recommended the Astorian, and it ticked every box. Even their photographer jumped for joy when she toured the light-filled Art Deco loft space. Best of all, the landmark building complemented Jenny’s wedding gown.
“I did buy my dress right after we got engaged,” Jenny admitted with a wink. “Robin kept saying, ‘Don’t get the dress too soon!’ And I’m thinking, ‘I already bought it.’ ”
As a self-described “older bride,” Jenny had a few reservations. Could she wear white? Was a ballgown appropriate? Then a blush confection by Monique Lhuillier, her favorite designer, trumped all etiquette qualms.
“It was kind of like when we met, and when we walked into the Astorian — same with the dress,” she said. “I guess that’s where the saying ‘meant to be’ comes from.” They married on March 17. “It was on St. Patrick’s Day by accident,” Jenny said. “I told people that they couldn’t wear green or they’d have a very nice view from the parking lot.”
Guests cooperated, and the “Great Gatsby”-themed festivities went off without a hitch. The couple honored Robin’s late mother with an open chair during the ceremony (performed by Jenny’s father) and silk butterflies woven into the chuppah.
“In the Jewish tradition, you sign a wedding contract. And interestingly, once the second witness signs the ketubah, you’re married. The rest is pomp and circumstance,” Jenny said. “So we signed our names and just started giggling. It really felt like some sort of myth. There she was, standing at the end of this beautiful sunfilled hallway, looking at me like she had won everything.”
They chose A Fare Extraordinare for ahi tuna tacos and boozy milkshakes — and Whataburger for late-night taquitos. Who Made the Cake’s buttercream cake was a replica of a 1958 Edsel convertible; Robin’s grandfather had worked for Ford and designed the car.
“People say you don’t need a piece of paper, blah, blah, blah. But it’s like you belong somewhere,” Robin said. “She makes me slow down and smell the roses. I haven’t met anyone who’s been able to do that, and I’ve been looking for a long time. A lot of girlfriends have come up and said, ‘You give me hope.’ ”
Jenny’s looking forward to basking in newlywed life, too. “It’s been a whirlwind, and now we’re ready to just be,” she said. “From Memorial Day to Labor Day, we try to stay here at the lake as much as possible. It’s a rule.”
And hopefully, one that sticks.