It began at a dinner party in Brooklyn on a cold February evening. Oliver was teaching at Duke but visiting a colleague in the neighborhood. Margaux was there researching a piece — she was always researching something. When someone mentioned Toni Morrison, the room kept moving but they stopped.

They argued for two hours about a single line in Beloved — not combatively, but with the particular urgency of people who care too much about words. The host gently suggested they continue outside. They did, walking eight blocks before either noticed the cold.

Two years later, Oliver made a reservation at that same dinner party host's favorite restaurant and proposed over the dish she had been eating the night they met. He had spent three weeks tracking down the recipe. She said yes before he finished the question.