Thursday, January 05, 2006

House Broken: Part 11

Her head was resting in his lap and he was gently caressing it, smoothing her hair behind her ear the way he liked it. The fire crackled lightly in the background, creating a song so sweet it almost brought tears to her eyes. They were in their favorite spot, softly talking about their lives and their families, and imagining what life would be like if their two worlds were to collide.

The ceiling was fashioned in wooden beams, high and majestic, yet humble at the same time. This was how she though of him: strong, handsome, yet approachable.

The resort boasted 4 stars and with its exceptional quality you could not help but be drawn to the many fireplaces that were tucked in around the various levels. The musky campfire aroma permeated the entire structure. They often ended their nights there, embraced by the warmth and the big leather couches.

"My sister's name is Nicola."

"Nicola? Are you sure? That's an awfully funny name." She laughed.

"Yeah, I know. But it is, it's Nicola. When she was born my mother wanted to name her Nicole. So they took her to be baptized and the priest wouldn't baptize her because Nicole was not an Italian name."

"Are you kidding?"

"No. I'm not. He was an old Italian priest from Jersey-did things the old way, you know? So he said, 'Name her Nicola and I'll baptize her.' And so, they legally changed her name and that's how she became Nicola."

She waited a few minutes before commenting, only because she did not yet know how he would react to her comments. She had not met any of his family, and knew that if anyone were to say bad things about her family, she would be upset. She was sure he was the same way.

"Couldn't your parents have just gone to another priest?"

"I suppose they could have, but this priest supposedly baptized lots of my family, and so they wanted him to baptize her too, you know? Kind of like tradition or something."

"I guess that makes sense, but to rename your kid just because a priest wants the name to sound Italian. Nicola isn't even a real name, is it?"

"Well, I don't know, but it is now!" He smiled down at her and kissed her nose. "I'm really going to miss you when you are gone."

"Let's not think about that now." She sighed. "But I'm going to miss you too."

"I can't imagine my life without you in it, you know. I know we just met, but you've really changed my life. You brighten my days and fill my heart with laughter. When I'm sad, I think about you and your lift my spirits. It's going to be very hard for me not to see you when I drive by Main Street. It's going to be hard not to smell your hair, or look into your pretty green eyes-to kiss your lips."

A tear rolled down his cheek. She sat up so that she was facing him, her legs in Indian style.
"It's ok. We'll be ok. I'm going to miss you too, but we'll make it. Don't cry."

s hard for me, you know? It's hard for me to trust that you'll be back, because someone I cared about told me that before, and didn't come back at all. Not even to visit. It's hard for me to know that you are going to be different. I wish I could believe it, I want to so bad." He looked ashamed, as though she would think poorly of him for not believing in their relationship. His eyes were fixated on the fire.

"I know. But when I come back, I'm not going to be coming back just for you; I'
m coming back for me too. That's the difference. She said she was coming back just for you-but she didn't want this for herself. I do. I want to be here, in this place. I want to suck up every ounce of happiness it has to offer. I want to wake up with the sun and make people smile and hear laughter and smell popcorn and dance in the streets and feel the rain. I want to be here, in this place and I want it for me. The fact that you are here makes it even sweeter. You will make being here better, but I am coming back because I love who I am when I am here."

She leaned in and kissed him softly on his forehead and nuzzled her nose to his. "I'll be back. I promise you that." She whispered.

He closed his eyes and rested his head on her shoulder. "Thank you." He whispered back. "Thank you."

They sat there entwined in each others arms for another hour, simply listening to the sound of the fire crackling and the tired guests arriving back from their busy day at the parks.

It was a sound they both loved; the sound of people on vacation, away from their normal lives. It was something that most people found hard to appreciate, but the two of them shared the passion. They loved the swoosh of the automatic doors, the shuffle of tired feet-longer for adults and quicker, more close together for the children. There was something special and unique about people who loved these sounds, and they felt lucky to have found each other.

They'd stay until the last of the guests returned from the parks. They started their day with them at the gates, and finished at the hotels. The only difference here, was that now they blended in.


Hepcat said...


I am sure that for the most part you write these snippets and stories for yourself and for the memories, but these stories about time at the parks triggers no less than a few memories of my own. I can remember so many similar sights and sounds from my summer at those other Florida Parks down the road :-P The sudden Florida downpours at just the right time when you needed to cool off, the wide eyed smiles of little kids that just came off the coolest ride, adults (especially the grandparents) turning back into children.... There really was nothing better than being a part of making that happen :)

P.S. Like the new look too!

Mags said...

Hepcat: You KNOW you made my day by commenting! 8-)

I do write these for myself, but get greater joy when someone tells me they also enjoyed reading it.

Thank you for sharing that with me, I'm glad it brings back good memories for you too!!

Be well...

One who listens said...

You're gonna make me cry with this story, aren't you? I just know it!



Mags said...

Owl: I don't want to make you cry. I'll give you has a happy ending!