He had told her about the dry heat on the other side of the mountains where he had spent all his life until he went away to college, but he could tell from her flushed cheeks that it might take her a while to adapt.
Even walking under the sidewalk awnings which shielded the goods in the shop windows and the potential customers from the direct rays of the sun wasn’t enough to cool his fiancé down.
With not a hint of a breeze in the air and the temperature soaring above 100 degrees, he quickened his steps and guided her into the soda shop where they found an empty table directly under the old paddle board ceiling fan stirring the air just enough to give her an inkling of a breeze.
As they waited for the waitress to come take their order, he nudged her arm, smiled and nodded at a little boy about five or six who had just walked through the door with his younger sister and were now standing in front of the high counter.
When the waitress peaked over the counter and asked her young customers how she could help them, the boy’s response, “Can we get a drink of water?” was met with “Of course!” as she winked at the Mom pushing a stroller toward them.
Now almost sixty years later, the couple reminisced that day in the soda shop and she told him again that it was one of those moments when she knew he would be a good father to the children they would someday have.
Sixty years sounds like such a long time but I bet for this couple it went by in a blink of an eye.
ReplyDeleteA sweet story. An easy, pleasant visual of young love and youthful aspirations.
Good to have you back at SSS, Pat!
Yes, in a blink of an eye!
DeleteThank you. With all that has been going on, I was having a bit a writer's block I think. It is good to be back.
I had heard the dry heat story, but not this part of it. Thanks for sharing! :-)
ReplyDeleteI guess kids sometimes hear the shorter version.
DeleteA love that lasts! Beautiful six!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lisa.
DeleteYou've done something with the writing that, at least to me as a Reader, imparts a palpable sense of this being a true story, in the sense of a family tale.* It (this sense of a quiet voice) gives a feel to the narrative that pretty much causes my visuals to be rendered in black and white, or sepia or whatever the word for the 'color' of old, old photos.
ReplyDeleteVery cool Six
*One of my favorite things about the blogosphere, the privilege of having a glance into another person's world.
Thanks, Clark.
DeleteGood six. Intuition is often a good thing and looks like she had it. As to dry heat, when folks say, "yes, but it's a dry heat." I generally reply, "So's an oven."
ReplyDeleteI like they way the cue led you.
I'm going to remember your reply to "It's a dry heat" the next time someone tells me that. :-)
DeleteI liked this gentle and moving tale. Can relate to experiencing dry heat after I moved from north to south into much hotter climes. That sense of always looking for the shade, for a cool breeze from anywhere! I'm totally used to it now. Now I freeze to death whenever I head north :)
ReplyDeleteThank you.
DeleteBodies do eventually adapt to a different climate and that is a good thing.
Not quite fiction here? Very sweet story.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Lisa. True, "Not quite fiction."
Delete