![]() |
|||
| HomeVacation PlannerLove StoriesDiscount CardMapsInsider's Guide |
|
Love Stories Romance Story Submit Story Past Winners Contact Us New/Featured - New Stories - Editor's Choice - Visitor's Choice Read Stories - First Love - First Meeting - Holiday - Long Distance Love - Marriage - Poetry - Romance - Second Chance - Secret Love - Special Occasion - Summer Romance - Timeless Love - Wedding
|
Are You Cold? Dedicated to Rick Submitted by Carrie He sits a little beyond the pool, on a bench facing me, reading a newspaper. His ankle is crossed over one knee, forming a lopsided table for his reading material. Involved in today's news, he doesn't see me. Yet. I make quick note of his features: chiseled chin, full head of hair even if it's grey at the temples. Inexplicably, I start to panic. I duck around the corner of a hedge, heart starting to yammer. But then—I wonder what he would think if he glanced up just in time to see the back of me leaving. So…I don't leave. Instead, my feet, on their own accord, move forward and he looks up and sees me. He smiles the greatest, most welcoming smile. All hesitation disappears as I bask in the sun of him—his warmth and attention. We talk about a hundred things and it is so easy and comfortable. The sun goes behind the fountain and casts us into shade. A breeze flutters and I shiver. He asks me, "Are you cold? Do you want to move over there?" He gestures to another bench still full in the sun. "No," I answer. I lose track of his words as he continues to speak. Instead, I think of him asking me if I am cold. It strikes me that he is the only person in the whole world who ever asked me that question. I try to remember someone else being so concerned about my comfort and I cannot. Is that what this is all about, I ask myself. Is it that I think I need someone who cares about my every whim? Then I wonder if he asks if I'm cold because he is always warm and he's astonished that someone can be cold on this beautiful day in Hawaii. Why does he care? Or…does he really care? I look at his face and notice his eyes upon me. I look down at his hands and I like them. Then I see smudges on his fingers from the newspaper. I don't interrupt him to mention it—he's still talking about something. Instead, I wonder some more about why he asked if I am cold. Does he ask me if I'm cold just because he's polite? Is it because his mom taught him well? Yeah, I decide. He's just a nice guy who happens to know that I get cold quite easy. That's it. That must be it. Yup, that's it all right. We're just friends and he's a nice guy. That's all it is.
© Best Places Hawaii, 1995-2008. All rights reserved. |