Falling in Love Again

west african woman

“I gave Anastasia the scarf you brought back from Kampala and she loves it,” Tomás said to his father.

“I hope you didn’t mind me buying her something.  It’s just that I saw it and thought of her.”

“No, no, I don’t mind at all.  She and I are just really good friends.  Papá, why don’t you ask her out?”

Salvador balked at the idea.  “You can’t be serious?”

“Why not?”

“I’m too old for her.”

“When it comes to love, Papá, age shouldn’t matter.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“That you’re in love with her?  To me it is.”

“What about her?  Do you know how she feels about me?”

“Well, she hasn’t come right out and said anything to me but I can tell that she feels the same way just from the way she acts whenever we talk about you.”

Salvador ran his fingers through his hair.  “I feel like a lovesick schoolboy,” he remarked.

Tomás grinned.  “It’s good to see you fall in love again.  It’s about time.  Mami has been dead for fifteen years now.  You need to get on with your life and be happy.  Anastasia is a fantastic girl.  The two of you will be very happy together.”

“So, you really think I should ask her out?”

“Yes!  Do it this afternoon when she stops by to thank you personally for the scarf.”

Salvador’s heart skipped a beat.  “She’s coming here this afternoon?”

“Yes.  Somehow, I don’t think the scarf is the real reason for her visit.  She missed you while you were gone and is very anxious to see you.”

“I missed her too.  I thought of nothing or no one else all that time I was in Kampala.”

“Good.  Then, the two of you can tell each other how much you missed each other in person.”  He glanced at his watch.  “I’d better be going or I’ll be late.”

Salvador watched him in alarm.  “Where’re you going?” he demanded.

“I’m going to the movies with the guys.  Papá, I mentioned this yesterday.”

“You’re going to leave me here alone with Anastasia?”

“Papá, you’re a big boy now.  You don’t need a chaperone.  Gotta run.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”  And he was out of there before his father could say anything else.

Alone, Salvador went over to the sofa and sat down.  He was nervous.  He had never been alone with Anastasia before.  Tomás was always around.  What was he doing to do when she showed up?  Agitated, he got up from the sofa, slid the glass door open and went down the steps leading to the beach.  A walk would help to clear his head and calm his nerves.

Anastasia rang the bell but there was no answer.  She rang again twice.  Frowning, she tried the handle and the door opened.  She went inside, closed and locked it behind her.  After removing her shoes and leaving them on the mat in the foyer, she went into the living-room.  It was empty but the glass door was open.  She went out on to the terrace and looked.  She saw a lone figure walking along the water’s edge.  It was Salvador.  Her heart began to race in excitement.  She couldn’t wait to see him.  She missed him so much when he was in Kampala.  As soon as she heard that he was back, she had to come and see him.  Placing her satchel in one of the chairs, she opened it took out the beautiful scarf he bought her.  Smiling, she draped it about her shoulders and waited for him to come back.

When he came back sometime later, he saw her waiting for him on the terrace.  Nervous and excited he approached slowly, cautiously.  She had the scarf draped about her and was looking down at him as he stood at the bottom of the steps.  She looked so lovely.  He ached to take her in his arms but he shoved them into the pockets of his trousers, trying to look nonchalant.  “Hello,” he said.

“Hello,” she replied.  He had the most amazing eyes.  She wanted to run down the steps and throw her arms around him but she remained where she was.  Until she knew how he felt about her, she had to remain cool.  “I had to come by and thank you for the beautiful scarf.”

“I’m happy you like it.”

“Was this your first visit to Kampala?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yes, I did.”

“It’s funny.  When I was living in Gulu, my family and I never visited Kampala which was a four hour drive away.  At one point I wanted to attend the university there but my parents wanted me to go to Uganda Christian University instead and I’m happy I did.  I would like to go to Kampala one of these days, though.”

He wanted to say, I’d love to take you, but instead, he said, “You’ll like it.”

It was still bright although it was almost seven in the evening.  “It must be nice living at the beach,” she remarked, turning to gaze at the waves as they rolled onto the sand.

“It is,” he agreed.  A long pause while he wrestled with himself.  Finally, he asked, “Do you have any plans for the evening?”

She looked at him.  “No.”

“Would you like to stay and have dinner with me?”

“Yes,” she said without the slightest hesitation and that was very encouraging for him.

Smiling, he went up the steps.  “You can stay and relax out here while I go and get things ready.”

After he went inside, she folded the scarf and put it back into her satchel.  Then she sat down in one of the chairs facing the beach.  Twenty minutes later, he joined her, carrying two large plates of something which smelled really good.  “I thought we could eat out here and enjoy the view at the same time.”  He set the plates down on the table between the two chairs.  “I’ll be right back.”

She looked at what they were going to have.  It looked like meatballs in sauce served over rice and vegetables on the side.  It looked and smelled delicious, making her mouth water.

He returned with two glasses of sangria which he set on the table before he sat down in the other chair.  “I hope you enjoy the Spanish Style meatballs in a Sunny Mediterranean Sauce.  I don’t eat Pork so I used Chicken instead.”

“I don’t eat Pork either.  I’m sure I will enjoy this.”

He smiled.  “Buen apetito.”

They ate and she marveled at what a great cook he was.  She had never tasted meatballs this good before.  She wondered why Tomás never mentioned his father’s culinary skills.

It was while they were sipping the Sangrias when he turned to her, heart beating fast and said, “Anastasia, you don’t have any objections, I’d like to us to be in a relationship.”

She put her class down.  “I don’t have any objections,” she said.  “I’ve always wanted to be in a relationship with you.”

He put his glass down and stood up.  Reaching down, he took her hands and drew her to her feet.  Cupping her face between his hands, he kissed her.  Behind him the sun began to set, marking the end of another day but tomorrow it would rise again, marking the beginning of a new day.  That evening marked the beginning of a new relationship for them.

Don’t be afraid to fall in love again.  It’s God giving you another chance at happiness. 

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Weekend Writing Prompt #93

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We met at a New Year’s Eve party.  Neither of us had a date.  We spent the entire evening together. We’re dating now but there’s one problem–she’s not Japanese.  Naturally, my parents are against our relationship, threatening to stop paying my tuition and disown me if, “you don’t stop seeing that girl and find yourself a nice Japanese girl.”

As the sun rises over the horizon, I decide I’d risk everything for love.

 

74 Words

This is for the Weekend Writing Prompt by Sammi Cox. For instructions, click HERE.

Turned Upside Down/Hidden #writephoto

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Samuel Villan stood on the rocks, looking at the stream winding its way in at an unhurried pace.  This was his favorite place.  It was where he came when he wanted to think, to clear his mind and to forget…

Life had been fairly quiet and uneventful for him since Julia died.  It had been twenty years since she passed away.  They never had any children.  When, her older sister died from complications after giving birth to her son, Julia and he adopted him.  His father had been killed in the line of duty.  He was a police officer.

After Julia died, he and her nephew became close.  It was nice having him around during those tough times but now he was gone.  He had moved to London where he was living and working.  During the holidays, he would visit and they would go for long walks or sit by the fireplace and talk.  Sometimes, they played Chess.

Yes, life was relatively simple, some even, say it was dull but it was how he liked it–no stress, no complications.  That was until, she came and turned his world upside down.

It all began last year Christmas when he was expecting Colin to visit as he usually did.  This time, however, he didn’t come alone.  He brought a Nigerian girl he worked with.  The moment Samuel laid his eyes on her, he knew that he was in danger of falling in love with her.  She was stunning with eyes that were large and framed by long lashes.  Her skin was smooth and flawless.  Her hair was cut short like a boy’s but it flattered her.  Her neck was long and slender.  She moved with such grace and had a pleasant voice.  She was vivacious and the entire house seemed to come alive when she was there.  He could tell that she liked him.  She was always seeking him out and seemed to enjoy his company.  While Colin was out walking the dogs, she would remain at the manor and sit in the drawing-room with him.  He taught her how to play Chess.

One afternoon when they were alone in the drawing-room, he got up from the chair in front of the fireplace and went over to the window to look out.  She joined him.  They stood there for a while, not saying anything but were acutely aware of each other.  “Do you get lonely being here by yourself?” she asked, staring straight ahead.

“Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Would be it presumptuous of me to ask if I can visit you sometimes?”

He looked at her then.  “Do you want to?”

She looked at him and nodded.  “Yes.”

She was staring at him so intently that he felt his face grow hot.  He stood there, not knowing what to do or say.  He wanted her to visit him as often as she could but was afraid of what would happen if she did.  She ignited in him an unquenchable fire and filled him with a fierce hunger.  He never imagined that he would ever feel this way about a girl half his age.  “What about Colin?” he finally asked.  “Wouldn’t he mind you coming to see me?”

“Why would he?”

“Aren’t you and he…?”

She shook her head.  “No.  We’re just friends.”

“I thought you were his girlfriend.”

“No, I’m single–like you.”

“I’m a widower.”

“We’re both single.  We’re not seeing other people so what’s preventing us from seeing each other?”

He blinked.  He wasn’t used to such forthrightness.  It thrilled him.  It also scared him.  “Are you always this direct?”

“Sometimes.  I like you, Samuel and I know that you like me.  I think we should give us a try.”

He swallowed hard when she moved closer.  “I would like that very much,” he muttered.

She was standing right in front of him now and reaching up, she kissed him on the lips. “You’re standing under the mistletoe,” she said when she drew back.  They were both breathing heavily.

He reached for her and kissed her with all the passion that consumed him.  Their moment was interrupted several minutes later by the sound of barking and Colin’s voice.  That night, they continued where they left off when he went to her room.

He ran his fingers through his hair now as he stood there by the stream.  For twenty years, he had lived a life of solitude, interrupted by Colin’s yearly visits but now, here, he was, the happiest he had ever been.  Yes, life was exciting and wonderful now that she was in it.  He turned now as she joined him.  He smiled and putting his arm around her shoulder, he drew her to him.  She slipped her arm around his waist and rested her head against him.  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

She placed her hand on her swollen stomach.  “Extremely happy,” she replied.  In seven months, they were going to have their first child.

Sometimes, when you least expect it, love comes along and turns your world upside down – Notes to Women

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Hidden at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Jolene/Stark #writephoto

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Photo by Sue Vincent

“Y’all gonna be okay while I’m gone?” Darlene asked her husband, Mick and her daughter, Jolene.  She was heading off for the weekend to a Women’s Ministry retreat in Atlanta.

They both looked at her before Mick answered, “Yes, we gonna be okay.  Don’t fuss so.  It’s not like you ain’t been away before.  We can take care of ourselves.  Jolene’s gonna take good care of me, ain’t you, girl?”

Jolene’s answer was to blow a large bubble and then pop it.  She was at the table putting nail-polish on her long fingernails while chewing gum.  Her dyed blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail making her look younger than eighteen.  Long dark lashes framed big, bright blue eyes which narrowed now as she glanced at her step-father.

Darlene wasn’t convinced but, she just had to believe that they were going to be all right for the weekend.  She knew that they didn’t particularly like each other.  Jolene’s Dad died when she was three and until a year ago it was just the two of them.  Then she met Mick at a friend’s barbecue and fell in love with him.  He was a handsome man, tall, well built with jet black hair that covered the nape of his neck and he had the most amazing green eyes.  He was in his mid-forties but looked at least ten years younger.

They got married a couple of months after they met.  Mick tried to be a good Dad to Jolene but she no part of it.  In the beginning they were like cats and dogs with each other but now they seemed to tolerate each other, although the animosity was still there.  She had misgivings about leaving them alone but she was glad for the break.

The sound of a car horn, alerted her and galvanized her.  “Loreen’s here,” she announced unnecessarily.  “Well, you have enough food to last you until I come back on Sunday.”  She went over to Jolene and hugged her.  “You behave yourself, Missy.”

Jolene pursed her lips.  “Ma, I ain’t a child, ya know.”

“Oh, I do wish you’d speak better than that.  What I been sending you to school for?”

Mick chuckled.  “She ain’t into book learnin’.  She’s into boys.  Why you think she’s paintin’ her nails?”

Jolene took up the open magazine on the table and threw it at him.  It hit him on the shoulder.  He turned and glared at her.

Darlene shook her head.  “I’m gonna pray for y’all,” she said.  “It’s high time that y’all bury the hatchet.”  She went over to Mick and hugged him.  They kissed and then she pulled away to grab her overnight bag.  “See y’all on Sunday.  Love y’all both.”  And she was out of the room and the house.  Minutes later came the sound of a car driving away.  Silence, except for the television.

Jolene finished painting her nails and held them under the fan until they were dry.  Then, she got up from the table and went over to the sofa where Mick was.  Instead of sitting down next to him, she lowered herself slowly onto his lap.  Smiling, she put her arms around his neck, her bare legs over his long ones.  She felt his body respond.  “You want to bury that hatchet now?” she asked coyly and saw his face flush.

“You’re a little tease, you know that?” he muttered under his breath before he put his arms around her and lowered his head to kiss her.

“All set for a nice Spirit filled weekend?” Loreen asked Darlene as they sailed down the long stretch of road.  “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.

“Yes, I been looking forward to it for weeks, but I was worried about leaving Mick and Jolene alone cause of how things are between them.”

“Don’t worry about them.  I’m sure they’ll be fine.  Mick’s a no nonsense man.  He’ll keep Jolene in line.”

“I hope they’re gonna be all right.”

“I’m sure about it. Now stop worrying.”

Darlene looked out of the window at the landscape and then, she exclaimed, “Oh no!”

“What’s the matter?”

“I forgot to tell Mick that I had a security camera installed yesterday because of all those recent break-ins.”

“You can always call and tell him when we get to the retreat this evening.”

Darlene shook her head.  “No, it can wait until Sunday when I get home.”  She felt better knowing that it the camera was there in the house.  No one could tell that it was hidden behind the wall lamp in the living-room.  Right now it was recording everything that was happening in there.  So, she’d know if Jolene was giving Mick trouble or not.  Jolene.  She worried about her sometimes.  I’m gonna say a special prayer for her and hope that one of these days, she’s gonna give her life to the Lord.

 

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt –  Stark at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Infatuation

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Photo by Sue Vincent

“With all the money this latest book is raking in, we’ll be able to go on an extended holiday in the South of France,” Roz Taylor remarked to Valentijn Liske after he signed the last copy.  He was book signing and having his picture taken with fans at Waterstones Piccadilly.  It had been a busy but very pleasant afternoon.

Valentijn didn’t reply.  He stood up, stretched and donned his jacket.  He was ready to escape to his home in Yorkshire.  After thanking and having a few words with the organizers of the event, he left the bookshop.

“I think this is your best novel, so far,” Roz said when they were in the car.  She glanced down at a copy that was on her lap.   “I can see it being made into a film like the others.  Can you imagine how much money will roll in?  We can use some of it to buy and develop the land which is featured here on the cover.  You’ve always entertained the idea of owning a home in Queensland.”

Valentijn turned to her, “You keep saying ‘we’,” he muttered.

Her head shot up and snapped to the left, her eyes wide as they met his.   “What do you mean?” she asked.  “This book was a collaboration.”

I wrote it,” he informed her coldly.

“Yes, but the idea for the cover was mine.  You wanted to have a dead body with a smoking gun next to it but I suggested that you have a skull lying in a field to add mystery to it.”

“And for that suggestion you think you’re entitled to everything?  You’re beginning to sound like my greedy ex-wife.”

She swallowed hard.  “I thought we were in this together.  I thought I was more than your agent.  I thought we had something…”

“Well, you thought wrong,” he snapped.  “From now it will be strictly business between us.”

“But, why?”

“I’ve grown bored with you, Roz, it’s that simple.”

Color flooded her pale cheeks and her eyes flashed at him.  “It’s that little tart I’ve  seen hanging around you lately, isn’t it?”

“I presume you’re referring to Alina?”

“Yes!  I notice the way she’s been throwing herself at you and you encourage her.”

“She’s full of spirit which I rather like.”

“Have you and she…?”

“Slept together?  No, not as yet.  But I promise you it wouldn’t be long before we do–” He was interrupted by a hard slap across the face.  He rubbed his smarting skin, his gaze narrowing.

“You disgust me,” Roz cried as hot, angry tears spilled down her cheeks.  They were stopped at a traffic light.  “Find yourself another agent.  I’m through with you!”  She tossed the book at him, grabbed her bag and pushed open the door, slamming it hard behind her.

Valentijn watched her go, shrugged and then, tapping the glass partition, he said to the driver, “Turn right at the next intersection.  I’d like to stop by the florist.”

“Very well, Sir.”

Valentijn settled back in his seat, smiling slightly as he looked out of the window.  He could just picture Alina’s face when she saw the lavender gladioli.  Lavender was her favorite color and the gladioli symbolized his infatuation for her, a girl almost half his age.  And the girl who had cost him the best agent he ever had.  He hoped she was worth the trouble.

Infatuation is the most fragile kind of love – C.S. Lewis

This was written for the #writephoto Prompt – Bone at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Take the Fall

“This is madness,” he thought to himself but yet here he was parked outside of the university, waiting for her.  Sometimes she would be with a friend or in a group and other times she was alone.  And each time, when she saw him, she would look at him without making it obvious.

He had no business being here.  “I should be heading back to the office and finish marking the stack of term papers sitting on my desk.”  Yet, he remained, his eyes scanning the drove of students for her.  Would she be alone today?  He hoped so.  And if she were, what was he going to do?  He hoped she didn’t think that he was stalking her.  He was no stranger to this campus.  In fact, it was at one of his lectures where he first laid eyes on her.  She was sitting in the second row.   He could still remember what she was wearing that day.   And he remembered thinking that her lipstick was way too bright.  How he managed to get through the lecture, he had no idea.

At the end, while other students were crowding him and asking questions, she stood beside the chair where she had been sitting and watched him.  Their eyes met and held for what seemed like eternity before she turned and walked away.  He watched her go, wondering if he would see her again.  For the rest of the afternoon, he could think of nothing else but her.  What was her name?  What was she studying?  Did she have a boyfriend?

Driven by a compulsion he couldn’t explain, he found himself outside of the university the following day, hoping that he would see her.  And he did.  His heart pounded wildly against his ribs when he saw her walking towards his car with a friend.  She was laughing at something the other girl said when she spotted him.  Without missing a beat, she met his gaze directly, making him blush before she walked past the car.

He broke out of his reverie when she appeared now.  She was alone today and when she saw him, she stopped and stood there, staring at him.  Today, she was wearing a black hat, black jacket over a white tee shirt and jeans.  Her hair was pulled together in a side plait, making her look much younger and her lips were bright red.  And then, she moved.  She’s coming towards me, he realized.  Nervousness and excitement filled him.  He ran his hands over his hair, straightened his clothes before getting out of the car.  He leaned nonchalantly against the car and waited.

When she reached him, she smiled and held out her hand.  “Hello, Professor Remington,” she said.

She remembers my name.  He cleared his throat, smiled and shook her hand which felt very small in his.  “Hello, Miss–?”

“Sydney Bradshaw”

“Pleased to meet you, Sydney.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I really enjoyed your lecture.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said.  “I have another one coming up next month.”

“Where?” she asked.

“The University of Roehampton.”

“What’s the lecture about?”

“Self-victimization or victim playing.  I will explain what it is, the reasons why people engage in it and the signs.”

“That sounds very interesting.  I’d definitely like to come.”

“I hope you do,” he said.  “You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

She shook her head at once.  “No, I don’t.”

“Good.  And I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend.  I’d like to continue our conversation more over cappuccinos.”

She smiled.  “I’d like that too.”

He walked around to the passenger-side of the car and opened the door for her.   They went to a nearby cafe where they the rest of the afternoon, talking over cappuccinos and the following evening, they had dinner at a charming French restaurant.   By the end of the year, they were engaged.

…ignore the risk and take the fall. And if it’s meant to be it’ll be worth it all – Daniel Seavey

Sources:  Genius; Wikipedia; The Daily EvergreenRate Speeches

The Paper

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Photo:  Joy Pixley

She couldn’t believe that she was sitting there, watching a western with Kyle, the hottest and most popular guy on campus.  It felt surreal.  It was that morning when he approached her as she was closing her locker.  He smiled his incredible smile as he offered to walk her to class.

As they walked down the hallway, he invited her over to his house that evening for pizza and a movie.  She accepted, smiling when she saw the other girls watching them.  I bet they never thought a guy like Kyle could be interested in a girl like me. 

He picked her up in his convertible and took her to the family mansion.  His parents were at the opera.  After a quick tour, they ate and then settled down to watch the movie.

When it was over, he took her home.  Outside of her house, he turned to her.  “I’ve this paper that’s due next week and was wondering if you’d write it for me.”  He took out his wallet.

Her heart sank.  Now she understood the reason for his sudden interest.  “I stopped writing papers for other students.”

“Bummer,” he replied.

She got out of the car.

198 Words

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit Here.  To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit Here.

Source:  Study Breaks