Chapter 1 #3
She pushed out a stream of air before placing the glass to her lips again. Her eyes left me briefly as her head tilted backward to consume the liquid. I assumed she was completely oblivious to the fact that she’d consumed me too.
Mentally and physically.
I didn’t rush her process. I just hoped it ended in my favor. Instead of dwelling, I gave her room to weigh the options she had in mind. Though it was hard, I quieted my head and listened to my heart. It assured me there was nothing to worry about.
“Seven. Solo ArtHouse. I’d like to be in bed by nine-thirty. I won’t neglect my bedtime and freshly pressed sheets for a stranger I don’t know from a can of unmarked paint.”
I lowered my glass, unable to conceal the budding smile.
She was definitely southern, and she was definitely necessary in my world.
The slight roll of her neck, passion in her tone, and strict boundaries told me so.
She was sweet, but the sass rolled off her tongue like liquor after a drunken night.
“Seven,” I agreed, “Solo ArtHouse. I’ll have you back by nine so you won’t miss that date with your dreams.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Saul. Rest is fundamental in my world. I have to have it… and the more the merrier.”
“I understand. Will I be picking you up?”
“You won’t be. But, you’ll see me at seven.”
“I’ll see you at seven.” I nodded.
“Not a minute later.”
“I don’t plan to make you wait, Summer.”
“I won’t,” she stated as a matter of fact.
And, then, there it was again. Silence.
What’s hurting? I thought, peering at the pain radiating from her pretty features.
Under my watchful eye, she leaned over and grabbed one of the nectarines from the center of the blanket. Her teeth sunk into the fruit. A chunk ended up in her mouth. As she chewed, she stared aimlessly into the openness.
“How many years have you been blessed to see?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Twenty-eight,” I whispered, plugging the information into my head.
“And you?”
“Thirty of those things.”
“Alright old man.”
Her laugh was contagious.
“You’re pushing it, so don’t get too carried away with the jokes.”
“I’d love to see thirty. I can feel the knowledge and wisdom and experience it will share with me. Getting older excites me. It means there’s so much more to learn… so many lessons.”
“You’re not from around these parts.”
“I’m not.” She shook her head, biting into the nectarine again.
“Perry, I assume.”
“You’d be right. What gave it away?”
“Your accent. Heavy and light at once. But, the southern drawl is undeniable. It’s making me wish silence wasn’t your preference right now and that you didn’t have to leave.”
“Is that right?”
“I could sit on this blanket until the sun settled behind us and hear you talk.”
“I wouldn’t have that much to say.”
“I’m sure the words would find you.”
“Maybe so.” She sighed.
Quietness swayed with the low, barely notable wind. Her orbs were on mine. Mine were on hers. A smile peeled her lips back as she shook her head.
“What is it, Saul?”
I shook my head from one side to the other, chuckling.
“I’m intrigued, Miss Summer. I can’t say that there’s been a woman on this earth I’ve found this much interest in.”
“So quickly–”
“At all,” I corrected.
“Hmph. I’m not opposed to the way hearing that makes me feel. It’s… new, too. I might even like it.”
“I like you.”
Upfront and honest was the only way to be. Summer took another sip from her glass. Slowly, her eyelids connected. She was digesting my words. There was a stirring inside of her. I was hoping it moved her to another space, somewhere vulnerability, trust, intimacy, and partnership dwelled.
“Happy Birthday.”
She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth again.
Pleasantries covered her features. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she was hard to crack, walls were high and expectations of the human species were low.
I wanted to change her mind and dismantle the trauma that had resulted in her hardships.
“Thank you.”
Who hurt you? I wondered, but decided not to allow the words to slip. We weren’t there yet. She wasn’t there yet.
“Before your time tiptoes out, I’d like to learn ya better. One word answers. Alright?”
I stretched out, holding my upper body up by my elbow.
“Alright.”
“Museum or aquarium.”
“Depends on the museum.”
“One word, Summer.”
Sniggering, she nodded.
“Okay. I messed up.”
“You did.”
“Ask me again.”
“Museum or aquarium?”
“Museum.”
“Train or car?”
“Train.”
“Plane or boat?”
“Boat.”
“Fair or film?”
“Film.”
“Poem or paragraph?”
“Poem.”
“Beach or cenote?”
“Cenote.”
“Resort or villa?”
“Villa.”
“City or island?”
“Island.”
“Bookstore or bar?”
“Bookstore with a bar.” She laughed.
“Fair enough.”
I joined in laughter, knowing there was no better answer than the one she’d given.
“Did I pass?” She inquired.
“Pass?”
“Whatever test that was. Did I pass?”
“It wasn’t a test. Not exactly. There were no right or wrong answers. Your responses was just a way of getting to know you a bit better.”
“What did you learn?”
“That you prefer slowness. Quietude. Experiences. Deeper connections, understanding, and meanings. It’s likely you rest more than you rush on vacation. You don’t do quick turnarounds–not with anything in life.
“You cherish time. It’s precious. So is your energy. You value them both the same. You are studious. Always looking for your next lesson in life, no matter how small or how grandiose.”
Summer said nothing. She peered into the openness. She placed both hands behind her, propping her body up. Just like that, we remained until her arms gave out and she lay flat against the blanket. She finished her nectarine. She finished her wine.
We poured another glass.
Then another.
Her book was back in her hands, and my body was resting beside hers before long. We weren’t in a hurry to speak or to move. It felt like time was moving like light.
“I have to leave, now, Saul.”
“Time passes us by so hastily.”
“It guts me to consider it.” She sighed, lifting her body from the blanket.
“It’s been a pleasure, Summer.”
“Yes– yes it has been.”
“Seven?”
“Seven,” she responded. “I’ll be there.”
I rose from the blanket and extended my hand. She took it into hers and stood on her feet. She leaned forward, attempting to collect her things.
“Don’t do that, Summer.”
She paused, taking a look at me. My frame was longer than hers. We were a perfect match.
“Don’t do what exactly?”
“Use your two hands to do anything my two hands are capable of while I’m around.”
Her eyebrows rose, trying their hardest to meet the small, slick pieces of hair that lined her forehead. They softened her appearance and made a liar of her birth year.
Without a fuss, Summer took two steps backward. I nodded toward the bench a few feet away.
“Catch some shade. I’ll bring your basket when I’m finished.”
I gathered our things as she buried her face in her book. When her things were tucked neatly in her picnic basket, I started in her direction.
This isn’t her first time in the park.
I’m hoping it’s her last time alone… unless she prefers it that way.
“Your things.”
Summer lowered the book and took her basket.
“If you’re parked near, I can carry it–”
“That’s my ride over there,” she said, pointing toward the rack full of bikes. “I’ll be fine.”
“I can carry it ov–”
“I know you can, but I have it from here, Saul. Thank you.”
At a loss for words, I stared down at the whimsical creature in front of me. God had been far too generous. She was flawless. The naturally lined, oversized lips must’ve been my favorite, because I couldn’t get my eyes to leave them for long.
Let her go. I reminded myself of the time restrictions and pushed my selfishness aside.
“Have a good day, Miss Summer.”
The corners of her mouth turned upward.
“You too, Mister Saul.”