Meadowbrook, Calif.–6:48 p.m., Pamper-Her-Friday:
“It’s hard to imagine summer’s almost over.”
“Aw, I know. I don’t wanna think about it,” she sighs, clutching his hand tighter as if a warm-blooded vise unable–unwilling–to unlock its grip.
Passers-by and lovers-nigh, sprinkled about the thick grassy plain beneath a lazy late-noon Friday sunset, appear to be contemplating the same thoughts–where did summer go?
“It’s been so much more than I expected. Was I good company for you?”
The question takes him aback, considering they’ve been together for quite awhile, long before the turn of spring.
His sky gaze interrupted, he motions his eyes to her; she continues admiring the tangerine star which seems only a pebble’s throw from their scrawled, at-peace bodies like dual splendors in the grass.
“Nah, you haven’t been good company,” he replies flatly.
Startled, she cuts her eyes abruptly away from the sea-blue skyscape that only seconds ago held her spellbound and meets his stare, incredulous at what she’d just heard.
“You were the only company I cared to keep, all that I imagined a summer’s romance could be.” An easy smile forms to mimic the glint shone in his pupils.
A flutter onset overtakes her, a verbal reply unfindable in the moment. Ever more the vise tightens. The silence full of language.
“And what about me for you, was I good company?”
“Not bad at all,” she wryly engages him in the lover’s rope-a-dope. “But there’s only one way to know for sure.”
He looks on with suspense, incredulity his face now wears.
“Let’s see what you got . . .
” . . . for autumn.”
Their laughter fills the air as the sun sets on a very special Pamper-Her-Friday.
Pamper the woman . . . for all seasons. -Rg2
© 2013 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®