His Sunshine Girl

James placed the ivory soup bowls down on the small wooden table he had set up for the dinner. She had always loved romantic dinners; he smiled fondly as he tucked the chairs back into its places. He wiped the wine glass once more with the white cloth he had in his hand. Where were those rose petals? He looked around and spotted the wicker basket full of red rose petals he had plucked in the evening on the mantle. He reached out and took the basket in his hand and generously showered the petals on to the table. The red candles set on the candle-stands looked fresh and ready to be lit. Everything was ready except… The whistle from the cooker pierced his ears and he rushed over to the kitchen as the smell of cinnamon and bay-leaf filled the air. He peered over the closed lid and watched the rich, brown curry bubbling away. A couple more minutes, he thought as he stood behind the kitchen counter and looked at the window across the room, watching the snowflakes drifting down. Standing there, his thoughts raced back to her. Valentine’s Day always brought those memories back. His gaze remained on the snow slowly falling outside, but his mind had already taken a trip back. A trip back to the bright summer day when he first met her.

***

James was 14, wearing a khaki shorts and a yellow shirt, dribbling a basketball on his front lawn. Kids screamed and yelled all over the street, enjoying the summer holidays in full blast. He didn’t enjoy playing with them. They were all younger than him and not to mention how annoying they were. He’d rather play alone, thank you very much.

He looked over at the silent house next to his own. It had been silent since the last owner left the place nearly a year ago. But looking at it, something was different about the place today. He thought long and hard, bouncing the ball on the cement floor on what it was until it finally hit him. The ‘For Sale’ board was gone. He stopped bouncing and picked the ball up, tucking it under his arm. What if his new neighbors had kids his age? What if they had a dog? His eyes brightened at the new amazing possibilities before him. He continued to watch the house as a black Toyota Corolla rolled down the street and stopped before the house. His eyes stayed on the car he did not recognize.

Then it happened.

The back door opened and his eyes widened as a girl stepped out, closing the door behind her. Her eyes swept the place and finally landed on him. The ball dropped from his arm and rolled down the street, and at that moment he couldn’t care less. All he could see was her caramel skin and the long, wavy black hair that touched her waist. Her lips curled into a sweet smile and his heart thumped out of his chest. He has heard of people going on and on about the butterflies in their stomach, but he never believed it to be honest. But for the first time in his life, the butterflies chose this moment to come to life and flutter deep in his belly. It was like the time had frozen around him. He willed his limbs to move towards her, to close the space between them, to know her name. But he stayed still. That’s all he could do.

***

James was pulled back into the reality as the smell of the curry pushed deep into his nose. He turned off the stove and gently poured it into a large bowl and kept it near the fluffy, white rice he had already cooked. He checked the time on the leather watch he always had on his right hand. It was a birthday present from her 15 years ago. Maybe I should take the rice and the curry to the table. So he carried them back to the table, careful not to spill anything on the floor. He looked around the room lit by the golden bulbs that hung from the center of the room. The warm lighting was perfect against the cold winter night. Just like how she liked it.

He walked over to the crackling fireplace and fed a couple of logs into the fire and warmed his hand over the heat. The food was ready; the place was set. He took his seat on one end of the table, keeping the lighter nearby to light the candle when it was time for dinner. He locked his fingers together and rested his chin atop his hand and let his thoughts wander again.

***

Arya. That was her name. His mother had told him. They visited his house when he went to the store, apparently. He stomped his foot across his room, angry at himself for not being there when she came. He could have shown her his room. Shown her all the paintings he had done over the years. Ruined. All ruined. They had just moved from India. And she was an only child. Why did he have a feeling that her moving here, next to his house, was just meant to be?

Over the days and months, they waved and smiled as they passed each other in the street. They talked a bit. Her voice, oh god, her voice was like dripping honey, rich and smooth. He could listen to her forever. Every time they talked, every time her midnight eyes fell on his, his heart beat in his throat. There was something he wanted to ask her, but under her gaze, he melted. Every time.

Until one day.

He looked out through his window and saw her watering the plants. This was his chance. He breathed in and out, calming his heart. He wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and ran his fingers through his hair. This was it. He was going to ask her. He dashed down the stairs and pulled opened the main door and sprinted to her lawn. She smiled like the sunshine girl she was, the pink blouse and the blue jeans she wore looked stunning on her. His breath caught at his throat as the rose scent of her perfume tugged at his nose. His head spun. He should run back to his house and never come out. But no, he would not fail this time. She tilted her head, tiny creases appearing between her eyes.

“What is it, James?” She asked.

I gulped down the lump in my throat and asked, ‘Will you go out on a date with me, Arya?”

She continued to look at him with those big, dark eyes of hers that could drown him and he wouldn’t complain. He shifted his feet. Every second she didn’t answer, he felt a deep, dark pit forming in his stomach. Why would she go out with him? She was perfect, and he was… he was just… him. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything she said,

“Yes,”

They had been dating for over a year. As they sat on the edge of the bed in his room, her shoulder touching his, he still couldn’t believe that she was his. He looked at Arya, sitting with her head turned to the other side. He saw the red climbing up her cheeks as he continued to look at her. Her hair was in a braid. Oh, how he would have loved to run his fingers through the soft waves of her hair.

He reached out and took her hand in his. She slipped her fingers between his as she turned her head towards him, her eyes looking deep into his soul. He brought her hand to his lips, never leaving his gaze from hers. She blushed. He watched as her throat moved up and down. Time seemed to stop as he leaned into her. She met him halfway, her other hand moving up his body and resting on the crook of his neck. He breathed in the rose scent she always wore, her warmth breaths send shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes as his lips touched hers. She tasted like the mango popsicle they had a few minutes ago. He pulled back, lingering just enough for his lips to graze hers. Looking into her eyes, he knew this was the time to say it.

“I love you,” His voice was low and soft, his body trembled as the words left his lips.

“I love you,” she replied without missing a beat, smiling against his lips.

His sunshine girl.

 Years had passed, they were 21. He stood before the mirror, wearing a crisp white shirt and grey formal pants. He pushed back the dark curls that slipped on his forehead and took a deep breath before spritzing the perfume.

“You can do this,” He told his reflection and nodded. It was time.

He had the house all to himself. When he told his parents what he wanted to do, they were more than happy to oblige. He looked around the hall strewn with red rose petals. Red roses were her favorite. He stood next to the little table he had set up for them. The red candles were lit and his mother had lent him her best china.

He waited patiently, his fingers drumming on the back of the chair, his eyes glued on the door. He took another breath when the door finally opened and in she came. For a second, he was sure he forgot how to breathe. His eyes bulged out of the socket as she walked in wearing a red dress that touched right below her knees. Her hair hung over her shoulder and her lips looked perfect in red. She smiled as he continued to stare and closed the distance between them, the clicking of her heels on the floor bringing him back to life. She rose on her toes and pressed a soft kiss on his cheeks. His hand reached behind his back pocket and took the box out. His heart fluttered as he dropped to his knee. Her eyes widened, and she hid her shock behind her hand.

The tension slipped away from his body, and a sense of calm filled him. There was nothing he wanted more that to ask her this,

“Arya, will you marry me?”

***

James flinched as the clock on the mantle chimed eight. He sighed and took the lighter and lit the candles, the soft glow spreading over the table. His hand ran over the fresh red roses he had kept in the vase. He smiled to himself as he looked over at the huge framed photo that hung on the wall.

25 years with her, he thought as his gaze lingered on their wedding photo. There he was wearing a three-piece-suit, his eyes full of love as he looked at his bride in a red silk sari, the gold on its borders sparkling under the bright summer sun. But it was her smile as she looked at the camera that was brightest of all. There was nothing in the world that could compare to that.

25 years with her had passed by in a blink of an eye. The photo blurred before him as tears welled up in his eyes. 25 years with her and now 3 years without. But nobody had told him that every passing second without her would be as long as an eternity.