Sweet afternoons

Chapter seven

We sat across from each other, on a pearl white, marble table that sat obscurely in the middle of a large patch of grass. A picnic was spread across the table, showing off bundles of homemade, tempting foods that we had eaten most of.

There were fairy lights strung on the trees, breaking through the darkness of the night. dustings of rose petals in both white and red laid across the grass making me gushing in awe. I had always loved roses, ever since I was a little girl. My aunt used to grow them along with many other types of flowers. She was a 'collector of useless plants', as my mother liked to call her. For some reason, I had become very reminiscent of those memories.

The night had made me recall the joy of childhood and, despite the bad things I had gone through in my past, I was only seeming to remember the happy times.

My aunt was one of the happy things from my childhood. She too was a larger woman, not quite as large as me but it was noticeable enough. My family tended to execute the same rudeness to her as they did to me. Yet all she showed in return was a smile and a simple reply. "At least I am happy, can you all say that about yourselves?"

My parents nor grandparents ever responded to my aunt's words. As a child, I hadn't thought much of their silence however, the older I grew the more I realised what it meant. They couldn't answer because not one of them was truly happy.

Back then, I wouldn't have been able to give her an answer either. But now, with the way my life had turned out I believed I would be able to say the same thing as my aunt used to, with the same honesty her voice always held.

I was sure of it, that I was as happy as my aunt was. When I looked up and my eyes suddenly met with Andres I was brought out of my thoughts and back to reality. There was a smile still sitting on his face, replicated on my own face as well.

The evening has sped by before my eyes. I had never gotten along with someone so well before and felt myself falling for the handsome gentleman. There was no way that I could deny my feelings when they had grown so strong. Whether I was sure of his feelings or not, I had yet to decided. But I was being controlled by my hope, that maybe love wasn't out of the question.

"Lena, may I ask you some questions?" His deep voice sent shivers down my spine, in the most pleasant of ways. It was like the warmth of the sun bearing down on a spring afternoon. My nerves hadn't calmed down any, but I found that they had grown on me, reminding me of how this man could make me feel. Not that it was something that could be forgotten very easily.

"Of course, go ahead," my reply was timid but I tried my best to hide it. Having already shown so many emotions in front of him, I wanted to appear as put together as I could for the remainder of the date.

"Where were you born? I heard you moved to America only 5 years ago," surprised by his question, I took a few moments to form an answer. With the few dates I had been on, and I had only been on very few, such personal questions hadn't ever been exchanged. When I say personal, what I really mean is boring. Not to me, but the person asking.

Where I was born had never been something people wanted to know, I mean why would they need to know? Frankly, most people did not care about my past and only focused on my present achievements. Mainly my success with the bakery. So to have Andres ask me that, really shocked me.

"I was born in a small village called Ansley, in England. I lived there with my parents until I was 19 years old." The look on Andres' face was one of clear interest and it confused me to no end.

There was no sign of boredom, just a sparkle of joy glinting wildly in his eyes. It seemed to unlock something within me, like the key to my own personal safe that held all of my deepest thoughts. After that, I found it quite difficult to stop myself from speaking.