Enchanted Summer

There is something enchanting about summer. Maybe it’s the sundresses. The squealing kids as they play in the jungle gym. The couple sitting on the picnic blanket in the middle of the park, exchanging flirtatious glances and stealing a touch at every opportunity. Or perhaps it is the clear skies. The laughs floating by as the breeze kisses your skin, leaving a gentle glow in its wake. Whatever it may be, I close my eyes and allow myself to be swept up in its magic. 

When I open my eyes, I glance over at the coffee shop across from the park. My date has arrived. Today marks the third month we have been seeing each other. Finally the day has arrived. 

I squirm on the park bench, trying to relieve the discomfort of sitting too long. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I try to talk myself out of it. 

Don’t go. 

But he’ll think I stood him up. Is that the impression you want to leave?

It doesn’t matter. Just don’t go.

I have to. 

Please. Don’t.

I rub my sweaty palms against my dress, tuck my hair behind my ears and cross the road. Ready for anything. Ready for everything.

He sees me walking towards him and I watch as his eyes light up. I take in every inch of him. First his shifting feet. Then his hands in pockets. Hands out of pockets. Hands on either side of his person. Head tilted to the side. Feet steady. Mouth turned up in a huge smile. Eyes sparkling. 

When I am close enough he spreads his arms out in front of him and I walk into his warm embrace.

The smell of freshly baked bread fills my nostrils. My sock clad dad bent over in front of the oven, humming my mom’s lullaby.

“It’s almost ready,” he says, smiling over his shoulder and closing the oven in the process. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

An unsuspecting sigh escapes from my lips. Calmness envelopes me. Starting at my toes and working its way up, spreading all through my fingertips. My busy mind is serene for this first time in weeks.

Jake kisses my forehead, bringing me back from my reverie.

“Hi,” he beams.

“Hello,” I grin, mirroring his smile. His natural warmth.

“You look amazing,” he muses and pulls my chair out for me.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

“I’m so sorry I am late. Afternoon rush at the bakery.”

He ducks his head as he says this, reminding me of a dog with its tail between its legs. I tell him not to worry, offering my kindest, most charming smile. He relaxes his shoulders and sits back in his chair. A few strands of hair fall across his forehead and I have to fight the urge to lean over and push it back for him. 

Jake however, doesn’t seem to notice and he launches into a story about a customer who placed a large order and cancelled an hour before delivery. He is somehow amused by this instead of being angered. 

It confuses me.

I stop listening and watch his hands as they move, telling a story all their own. His fingers tap the table as he decides what to order. They move to his chin. Index finger over his lips, thumb under his chin. Every so often they pause to push his specs up the bridge of his nose. Then they return to their story, captivating me, compelling me to give them my attention. He has wonderful hands. Soft hands. Nails always groomed hands. Strong hands. Bread kneading hands.

Orders placed, he goes on to tell me about a phone call with his mom. She’s old and wants to see him married. Happy, with kids. Settled.

I swallow my yawn and stop my eyes from glazing over. 

Instead, I smile. Throw in an “aw” here and there and comment on how sweet his mother is.

He says something else I don’t hear and I make a mental to do list I need to tackle when I get home. Bathroom needs to be cleaned. I need to make a dent in that ever growing washing pile. Empty the trash that has two day old food in it.

“How are you?” He wants to know. “I’ve been monopolizing the conversation,” he apologizes. 

I tuck my hair behind my ears and give him my most dazzling smile, “you know I love hearing your stories.”

He starts saying something and I lean forward, pretending to strain to hear him over the growing crowd. He might be the most boring one of them all.

He goes silent and smiles at me tentatively. Eyes pleading, begging me to say something.

“Would you like to get out of here? Go somewhere quiet?” I ask. 

His smile breaks into a grin. Delighted. Unrestrained. Free.

“I’d like that,” he says, eyes sparkling. 

Of course you would, I think.

We both stand and I rub my sweaty palms against my dress when he’s not looking. He holds out his hand for mine. I hesitate a second too long and his hands move to his pockets. 

We walk out the café together and I link my arm in his instead. On the other side of the road, a mother pushes a stroller past us. Another kid tethered to her side, ice cream dripping down his chubby hands. I watch Jake as he watches the mother stop to clean the mess. His eyes are sad, longing. 

If only he’d shown me more of that Jake.

He catches me watching and plasters a smile on his face.

This is it, I think. My window of opportunity.

I pull Jake into an alleyway and his eyes widen briefly. 

I push up against him and his face softens, realizing my intent. His hands cup my face, making every inch of me tingle with anticipation. As he leans into me he lets out a sigh of relief. 

“You are beautiful,” he whispers, moving his mouth closer to mine.

Jake pushes away from me, eyes wild. And then the gurgling starts. 

He staggers back, hands moving to his throat, struggling to breath. His eyebrows pull together in a frown and he falls to his knees. He looks at his hands, confused by what he’s seeing. His eyes rove over me before settling on my hand. His face is masked with sheer terror. 

He falls to his back and I bend over him, watching as the sparkle disappears from his eyes. As his mouth goes slack and the choking stops. His blood runs down his neck and onto the cobble stoned floor. Once a steady stream, now only trickling down. His blood forms a circle around his head and I smile at the beauty of it. It makes me think of an angel shrouded in light. Coming to me. Coming for me. I have to squint at the blinding light but finally, finally I’ll be free.

I use Jake’s shirt to clean my blade before safely tucking it away. I take a minute to marvel at his beauty. So peaceful, even in death. I run my hand along the side of his face. Along his lips, already starting to turn blue. Burying my nose into his chest, I take one last sniff and commit the smell to memory. Aah, childhood.