Blanche had a hard time focusing on anything related to the library Friday morning. Her thought drifted and meandered between her impending date with Seymour and the quasi date, hastily arranged, with Jasper for the following evening, or was it a date with Jasper and Rufus, she wasn't quite sure. Thankfully, the decisions on this particular morning, or any morning for that matter, did not dictate life or death, just the ability to find a book, when shelved out of place, or a late fee charged to the wrong account. The librarian had just managed to complete her morning’s work when Marcus wandered through the main foyer on his way to the second floor.
“You’re looking lovely, as per usual, Blanche,” he said, giving her a friendly smile.
“Why thank you my good man,” she retorted, with an English accent.
He could see from her evident glow and demeanor that something was up. “So what’s the deal?”
“What do you mean, what’s the deal? I’m just working my little keister off trying to keep this place in tip top shape,” again with the accent.
“Oh, I think there’s more to it than that. You seem, I don’t know, kinda bubbly,” he said, for lack of a better word.
“Is that a compliment, or bubbly, as in bubble headed beach blonde?” she jokingly replied.
“Both,” he laughed. “No really, you got something going on today?”
“Am I really that easy to read. After all you’ve only known me a short while?”
“I don’t know, you do kinda wear your emotions on your sleeve. But that’s not a bad thing,” he said, as an afterthought.
“If you must know, I have a date tonight that I’m really looking forward to. I can’t remember the last time I was this excited about a date.”
“Can I ask who with? Do I know him?”
“I think you know him alright, but you must promise me that you won't say anything to Mrs. Anderson, she will likely frown on me dating a coworker,” Blanche said more quietly, looking to make sure they could not be overheard.
“For goodness sake Blanche, don’t tell me you’re going out with Jared, he’s still in high school. Ester will have a conniption and what will his parents say?” he carried on, not giving Blanche a chance to stop him, even though he could see her waving her arms in an attempt to slow him down. “I’ve seen him ogling you and I should have put a stop to it right from the start, but I never dreamed you would agree to dating him. Doesn’t sound like a very good idea to me, nope, no siree,” he finally stopped.
“Marcus, I’m not that stupid. It’s not Jared, it’s Seymour,” she whispered.
“Oh, oh, that’s better. Ain’t he still a little young for you?” he questioned. “Now you just tell me if I'm overstepping my bounds.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind you being interested, and after all you are sort of my adopted father, apparently. I have been a bit hesitant to encourage Seymour, but he’s just so sweet and I think he likes me for me, and not the other,” she said, looking down at her protruding chest. “Actually looks me in the eyes when we talk, I kind of like that.”
“He’s one hell of a lucky guy, either way, and he’s a good boy to boot.” He reached for Blanche, giving her a hug, and patted her gently on the back.
“Thanks Marcus, your approval is important to me for some crazy reason.”
They chatted about a number of things before Blanche asked, “So what are you up to this morning?”
“I’ve got to check all the safety issues throughout the library today. County safety inspectors are coming the middle of next week. You know, to certify the fire extinguishers, make sure we have the proper signs, that kind of stuff. Has to be done every year so I just double check everything before they show up,” he explained.
“Well, don’t let me hold you up any longer, get to work and I’ll do the same,” she said, returning to her desk.
The attractive young librarian would have been less excited about her day had she known that at the same moment she was discussing her date that two men, Marcus would have been much less approving of, were thinking of Blanche in much more lewd ways.
Lester sat at his plywood desk, his feet pushed against the edge, the chair tipped back on two legs, as he lustfully turned the pages of his newly pilfered book. The thoughts of a naughty librarian stirring his imagination, he looked up from the book long enough to refresh his memory, by looking at the pictures of Blanche pinned to the wall. “Oh yeah babe, won’t be long and you’ll have a real man. The Lester Train is on the tracks and headed your way,” he said, returning his attention to the book before him.
Felix pulled his black Lincoln Town car into the lone parking spot behind Caroline’s and exited the vehicle, a single bag in his hand. He entered through the rear door, off of the kitchen; scarcely making a sound, but no one appeared to be home. Setting the bag at the bottom of the stairs, he hollered, “Anybody here, Caroline you around?”
“Quit yer yelling, I’m a comin', I’m a comin',” Caroline said, scooting down the upper hallway where she’d been doing some cleaning.
“Ms. Carmichael, pleasure to see you again,” he said, turning on the charm.
“Well, I never expected to see your handsome face here this morning,” she said, walking down the stairs and extending her hand.
“Got some work to finish up here in Valdosta over the next couple days and missed your home cooking so much, thought I’d see if you could give me a room.”
“Oh I think I can arrange something fer ya. How long will you be staying and do you want the main floor or the second?” she asked.
“I’m not sure how long, maybe up to a week. Is that librarian still staying here? You know, the good lookin’ one?” he inquired.
“That would be Miss Delaney, oh yeah, she’s still with us. You got your eye on her do you?”
“I wouldn’t mind sharing a bathroom with her again. Of course, if that's okay with you?” he said, with a wink.
“Don’t make no never mind to me who shares what, long as I get paid,” she quipped, motioning for him to pick up his bag and follow her. “The room you were in before is now occupied, some accountant staying in there, but you can have the one that the newlyweds were in, just changed the sheets and cleaned it up fer ya.”
“I’m much obliged. When do I get some of that special fruit salad of yours?” he said, lightly tapping her on the bottom as she turned to walk out of the room.
“You devil, teasing an old lady when all you're really after is her fruit salad,” she said, shaking her large, round bottom at him. “Dinner is at 6:30 sharp. See you then.”
* * *
The remainder of the librarian's day passed as most did, kids and adults coming and going from the library. Blanche had instituted a new afternoon reading program for preschool aged children that she was very much enjoying. Throughout the week when she had a few spare minutes, she would browse the children’s section, looking for books that might entertain the little ones, then on Friday afternoon at 3:00 p.m. parents were invited to bring their children for a reading of these selected books. The first couple of weeks the attendance had been limited but today she had to ask Mr. Marcus to bring in additional chairs for the adults and mats for the children. She enjoyed looking out at the smiling, beaming little faces that were just now learning to have a love of literature.
Today she had chosen, ‘The Marvelous Mind of Marlin Marsh’ written by H. Broby. She held the book so the children could see the colorful illustrations as she read each page, exaggerating the key words, and changing her voice to the delight of the children. A sense of accomplishment and joy filled her heart as the young parents thanked her at the end of the session. Telling her how much their children were enjoying these special Friday afternoons. Blanche couldn’t help but wonder if one day she’d have a chance to share her love of books with her own small children.
As she was cleaning up the area, she noted that Marcus was hauling a ladder up the stairs, again heading to the second floor. “Now what are you up to?” she asked.
“Oh some knucklehead has tampered with the alarm on the fire exit door and I’ve got to see if I can fix it before next week. Always gotta be some idiot making more work for me,” he grunted.
“Is it still safe, I mean the door?” she asked.
“Shouldn’t be used at all except for a fire, but the door still works, just has an alarm that sounds when you open the door, but that’s not working till I can see what’s wrong with it.”
“Let me know if you’re able to fix it, otherwise, I’ll need to speak with Ester about it, okay?”
“Sure, I’ll see what I can do.”
Six o’clock rolled around much more quickly than Blanche had expected. Marcus had stopped by the desk shortly before going home for the day, informing her that the alarm was not repairable, and he’d have to order a new one the beginning of next week, but he’d put a sign by the door indicating that it was not to be used except in the case of an emergency. The door led to a small landing on the exterior of the building, with a slide type shoot that extended to the ground below, specifically designed for fire escapes only.
The evening dinner guests were already seated around the table when Blanche walked in the door from work. She tried to slip by without being noticed so she could get to her room and prepare for her evening with Seymour, but she heard Caroline call from the dining room.
“Blanche, that you dear?’ her voice echoed through the empty foyer.
“Yes Caroline, I’m just hurrying up to my room, going out tonight and need to get ready,” she called back, still moving to the stairs.
“Come here for a minute will you, someone here that would like to say hello. We’ll make it quick.”
The annoyed young woman moved to the dining area, leaned in and said, “Hello everyone, sorry to be interrupting your dinner. What was that you were saying Ms. Carmichael?” Then just as the words left her mouth she saw him sitting among the other guests, 'Clueless Wonder'. “You have got to be kidding me,” she thought.
“Mr. Unger has returned for another few days and he wanted to say hello,” Caroline said, awaiting the response from Blanche, as was Mrs. Muir.
“We thought you’d be anxious to say hello as well,” Mrs. Muir included trying not to snicker.
“Miss Delaney," he said, lifting his hand to wave slightly.
"Hello again," Blanche managed, without being rude.
"I hope you don’t mind sharing the same floor and bathroom again, even appears we’ll be sharing a wall, hope you don’t mind. I was wondering if we could start off, this time around, on better footing,” Felix said, trying to win her over.
“I guess I don’t mind sharing the bathroom, but could we have a more workable arrangement this time. Would be nice if we could have a compromise,” she said, trying to stand up for herself.
“Sure, whatever you want, you name the time you need the facilities in the morning and I’ll work around your schedule. How would that be?” he said.
“Uh, I would appreciate that and thank you. Let’s say I start at 6:00 and I shouldn’t be longer than 20 minutes. That okay?” He wanted something and she knew it.
“Perfect, then we can have breakfast together at 7:00. You’re headed out tonight?” he probed.
“Yeah, going out with a friend from work, so better get ready. Have a good evening everyone,” she said, as she pulled away from the door jam and hustled up the stairs to the safety of her room.
“That guy just makes me feel like I need to shower,” she thought, as she touched up her makeup, brushed her teeth and ran a brush through her hair. She was uncertain of what she should wear so she left her work attire on, didn’t want to make too bold of a statement on their first real date. She sat on the bed and waited for Seymour to arrive, the words of both Marcus and Mrs. Wood played through her mind, bothering her, “Was nine years too many? Was she robbing the cradle?”
She weighed the answers until she could hear Caroline shouting from down the stairs, “Blanche! Miss Delaney, your young friend is here,” heavy emphasis on the ‘young’ or at least her ears heard it that way.
Blanche took one last look at herself in the mirror, quickly ran her tongue over her teeth, and smiled at the image looking back at her. For one of the few times in her life she was quite satisfied with who was looking back, a more self assured, happy version of Blanche D. Delaney, librarian, daughter and now hot, older girlfriend.
The scene that awaited her at the bottom of the stairs both startled and delighted her. Seymour stood near the last step, looking upward, awaiting his date. Mrs. Muir and Caroline stood a few steps behind him looking the scene over, wanting to see the reaction on Blanche’s face when she saw the handsome Seymour. The young man, an ear-to-ear smile on his face, held a beautiful bouquet, vibrant yellow and orange flowers interspersed with pale pink roses, tightly clutched in his right hand, and a delicate corsage, matching the arrangement in his left.
When he saw his date his face lit up as if it were Christmas morning, “I couldn’t decide which would be more appropriate for a first date, so I got both. Hope it’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay,” Blanche said, one hand brought to her neck, the other to a cheek.
“They call this arrangement ‘Autumn Beauty’, kind of reminded me of you and your hair, so I’m glad you like it,” he said, still glowing, but lost in the beauty that was her.
Seymour stood in a suit that was slightly too small for him, a matching tie that was poorly tied, and a pair of shoes that were a bit outdated, but looked like they’d only been worn a few times. He was remarkably handsome tonight, the dimple in his left cheek made her heart skip a beat.
“I feel a little under-dressed. Should I go change into something more formal?” she hesitated, coming all the way to the bottom of the stairs where Seymour and the old hens were clustered.
“No, no, you look amazing. Don’t change a thing. I just wanted to make a good impression so I pulled out this old thing. Fits a little small but my mom thought I looked good enough, so here I am,” he said, not taking his eyes off Blanche.
“Are you sure? Would only take me a minute. Really, is this okay?” she said, motioning to the cotton shirt and dark slacks that hugged her curves.
“If you were wearing a torn t-shirt and ragged jeans you’d still look just as beautiful, so I’d say we’re good to go.”
“Hope you’re a better student than liar,” she said, finally meeting him on the bottom step. Standing on the lowest step they were about the same height, she put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him to her, planting a soft, gentle kiss on his lips, to the surprise of both ladies.
“Thank you for the flowers, can’t remember the last time somebody brought me flowers. Caroline would you please put these in some water for me until I get back?” she asked, taking the bouquet from Seymour’s hand and giving them to the nosey landlord. “Seymour, I’d like you to meet Mrs. Muir and the owner of this fine establishment, Ms. Caroline Carmichael.” Pleasantries were exchanged as the older ladies made a fuss over the flowers and the young couple.
“I think this is supposed to pin on your shirt or something,” he said, holding up the dainty little corsage.
“It’s just so beautiful, Seymour. Would you pin it on me? It’s too awkward to do on myself,” she said, moving toward him and pulling her hair away from the area above her left breast to give him a better shot.
He held the flowers in his left, angling in for just the right location and directed, holding the long, thick pin with the other. Seymour had never pinned a corsage before, so he felt somewhat out of place, especially with the older women watching. He made several attempts, his fingers lightly touching the top of her breast and bra, causing him to pull back and come at it from a different direction.
After about the sixth try Mrs. Muir piped up, “My heavens this is painful, give me that.” And she took the corsage and pin from Seymour as he backed away giving her room. With a swift and adept couple of movements the corsage sat beautifully pinned atop Blanche’s chest.
“Doesn’t she just look stunning, the way that flower highlights her hair?” Caroline said.
“Yes, she sure does,” Seymour was quick to answer.
With the awkwardness behind them, they headed for the door, “Thanks ladies.”
“You’re welcome, have fun tonight,” Mrs. Muir said.
“Have her home early young man,” the stricter Caroline chimed in.
“Don’t wait up for me,” Blanche said, over her shoulder with a careful wink and nod in their direction.
“Seymour, you didn’t have to buy me flowers, I know things are tight for you and your family.”
“I’ll just go without lunch for a few days,” he joked.
“Well it was very sweet of you, thanks again.”
“It was my pleasure, was worth it just to see the look on your face. I’ll have that etched on my mind for awhile,” he said, pulling the door open of the 1996 Ford Pickup. “Hope you don’t mind, my mom’s car is in the shop and it was either the work truck or my old motorcycle.”
“It’s fine, you forget I’m originally from Utah.”
“I tried my best to clean it up but there are still some seeds and small stuff I couldn’t manage to get out, but at least it shouldn’t get your clothes dirty,” he apologetically said.
“So, where we headed? This is all just a mystery to me tonight,” she excitedly inquired, enjoying the time together more than she had thought she might.
“Strange that you should use that word, ‘mystery’, thought that could be kind of the theme of this first date,” he said, looking for approval from his date.
“You’re driving. Sounds like fun.”
They drove for a few minutes down some of the streets of Valdosta that she was not familiar with. She thought she recognized a few places from her condo hunting expeditions with Bev, but by the time they pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant, she was quite lost and directionally confused.
“The Passage to India,” Seymour said, pointing to a sign over a very well lit and sparkling frontage area. “Hope you like Indian food, this is the best in town.”
“Well I don’t know if I do or not, never had it, but I’m up for the adventure. Lead the way.”
The restaurant was tastefully decorated and quite busy with every table occupied and people waiting in the entryway. Seymour approached the young lady working the small, chest high desk in the foyer, leaned over and whispered something in her ear. Blanche couldn’t make out what was said but the girl nodded, obviously understanding what he was talking about, and motioned for one of the hostesses to come to the front area.
“This is the couple that I was telling you about before we opened tonight, remember?” the young lady said to the even younger hostess. “Are we ready for them?”
“They are just finishing up with the table, so give me a minute and I’ll come and get them.”
Addressing Seymour and Blanche the girl said, “Please just stand aside for a minute and the hostess will be back and take you to your table.”
“Thanks,” Seymour said, taking Blanche by the arm and leading her out of the way of the other customers.
“What have you got up your sleeve, you sly dog?” she asked.
“Nothing, just a little dinner with my favorite boss.”
A moment later, the same young hostess returned and ushered the couple to an area toward the back of the establishment. Multi-colored veils of fabric were draped from the center of a private room, reaching to the corners, creating a tent like effect. On the floor was a knee high table with two dozen pillows of different shapes, sizes and textures scattered about on the floor, a Persian carpet underlying the comfortable setting. The atmosphere was instantly warm and inviting, soft Indian music playing in the background and a personal waiter stood at attention, with a linen napkin over his arm, and a tray holding chilled water glasses in his hand. An amazing gold centerpiece provided the only light to the room, as several candles flickered and danced, projecting shadows against the tented backdrop. The scent of curry tantalized their palates.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think you’re crazy,” she replied, waving her hand around and pointing at the unexpected surroundings. “How did you manage all this?”
“Let’s just say I’m not without connections,” he whispered, as if the information was top secret.
The dinner was incredible. Blanche had never enjoyed a meal or a 'first date' conversation so much in her entire life. The service from each of the staff had been top notch, taking care of their every need, almost anticipating what they wanted before they asked. The only down side to the evening, thus far, was the tightness in her waistline. The couple talked about all kinds of things, from their youth, to the things they had in common, and their jobs at the library.
“So Seymour, tell me about the suit and shoes. I get the feeling there's a story there, would you share it with me?” she said, smiling.
His demeanor suddenly became very serious and she could tell she had hit a sensitive area. “I, uh, this is something that I don’t talk about very much,” he managed to say, looking down at the candle and the incandescent light it gave off.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to bring up anything painful. Let’s talk about something else.”
“That’s okay, I think I’d like you to know; it’s part of who I am. You see, I guess it’s been about five years ago now, my dad got sick real fast with what we thought was a cold. Started out just like most colds with a sore throat and a bad cough, but when the cold went away he didn’t feel much better and the cough just kept getting worse and worse. My momma finally convinced him to see a doctor and by the time he got in, and they did a chest x-ray, it was too late. He had a cancer that spread through both lungs and into his throat. We only had him a short time before God took him and we were left with a farm to run on our own. Those were some tough years,” he said, looking past her and into space.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Seymour,” she said, placing a caring hand alongside his strong jaw, her thumb lying over his dimple.
“Anyway, the suit. My mom bought this for me to attend my dad’s funeral. Only suit I’ve ever had. Can you tell I’ve grown a little bit since then? Should have had it altered but too much going on and kind of forgot about it till tonight,” he said, leaning his head a bit closer to the warmth of her touch.
“It’s fine, you look wonderful in it.”
“I know the tie looks a little wonky. My mom’s not very good at tying them and this is the best I could do after watching a video on the computer, but it’s not the same when you’re doing it yourself and lookin’ into a mirror. Wish my dad would have had time to teach me to tie one proper like.” A tear ran from his left eye, down his face, and trickled over her fingers.
She used her thumb to wipe the next tear away as it sailed down his cheek.
“Come on, let’s not think of sad things,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her into the main portion of the restaurant.
A live band, with instruments she’d never seen before, sat at the head of a small partitioned-off area, with a hard wooden floor designed for dancing. The music being played was strange and unusual, but she could see some of the regulars enjoying the funky tunes.
“Hey Zorida, show us some moves,” he said, to one of the young people dressed in ceremonial Indian attire, standing near the band.
“You know these people?” Blanche asked.
“Yeah, the owner and my dad grew up together and most of the people working here are his relatives. Zorida there, is his daughter, goes to school with me at the U. How else do you think I could afford an evening like this? I’m a student don’t you know?”
Zorida moved to the center of the dance area and began moving her hips to the sway of the music, increasing the gyrations as the beat increased. She spun and dipped, clicking small cymbals with her fingers, as she danced to the music. At the completion of the song the restaurant burst into cheers and applause.
“Come on Seymour, I’ll teach you,” Zorida said, coaxing him verbally, then actually dragging him onto the dance floor, Blanche in tow.
The musicians were easy on the beginners, providing slow enough beats that they could copy the movements, slowly they increased the tempo, making the trio move and bounce to the enjoyment of the patrons. A few small children joined them on the floor, showing off their own moves, and bringing even more adults to the stage. At the conclusion of the hypnotic number Blanche collapsed into Seymour’s arms and hugged him tightly.
“I have to tell you Seymour, I am having such a good time.”
“Good, I have one last thing I want to show you before I take you home.”
“Home? Isn’t the night still young?” she asked.
“Yes, but I promised your landlady I’d get you home at a decent hour,” he informed her.
The drive seemed to have them moving away from the city. “Where are you taking me? You’re not really a serial killer or something are you, and now you’re taking me to your private lair?” she jokingly asked, sliding close to him on the front seat, wrapping her left arm around his, as his hand rested on the floor mounted gear lever.
“Crap, you’ve found me out. That takes all the fun out of it. Wanted to surprise you when I pulled out a ball bat and knocked you senseless. Hoped I could get you tied up and in my hideaway before you woke up,” he said, in a sadistic voice.
“Okay, now you’re creeping me out a little bit, where are we really going?” she asked, her nails digging into his arm.
“Ouch, okay, okay, I’ll tell you. We’re headed to my most favorite place in Valdosta. Found it as a kid and go there when I need to think.”
They drove until the lights of the city were well behind them and a dirt road led them another couple of miles off the beaten path. The rattletrap of a pickup bumped and tossed the pair at times almost knocking their heads against the rusted roof, as the shocks gave up trying to absorb the numerous ruts.
“Not much further, just hold on,” Seymour said.
As quickly as the bumping and bouncing has started, it finally stopped, and they came to rest on a small knoll, with trees on either side of the truck. Seymour reached behind the seat and pulled out a flannel, plaid blanket, a thermos and two mugs with cartoon characters on them, the Tasmanian Devil on one and Foghorn Leghorn on the other.
He showed them to Blanche, “You can have your pick, as long as I get Foghorn.”
He opened the door for her and motioned for her to follow him up over the small rise, his hands being full of the items from the truck. As they crested the hilltop, Blanche’s eyes focused on the most awe-inspiring vision of earth and nature that she had ever seen. She stood, unable to move, taking in the scene that stretched out for miles before her.
“Was I right, or was I right?” he said, taking in the same sight and enjoying the impact it was having on his beautiful date. “This is going to sound so corny, but it’s the God’s honest truth.”
“What’s that?” she said not taking her eyes off the panorama before her.
“The first time I saw you and you were just sitting at the desk with your head down and I could see you and you hadn’t noticed me yet.”
“Yes, I remember,” she said.
“Well, seeing you that very first time made me think of this place, and I swore to myself, if there was anyway that you’d agree to go out with me, I’d bring you here first. So, here we are. The only thing more beautiful than this place right here, is you, Blanche Delaney, and I mean that,” he said, moving to throw out the blanket before he made a bigger fool of himself.
“Seymour, I'm afraid you've put me on a pedestal that I’m not going to be able to live up to, but for tonight, I think I’ll stay up there for a while longer, if that’s okay with you,” she said, kneeling down next to him and running her hand over his.
“Madam,” Seymour said, handing a mug to Blanche. He unscrewed the top of the thermos and poured each of them a cup of hot chocolate. “Hope this is still warm enough to drink.”
She took a sip, finding it almost too hot, and blew over the surface of the liquid.
“It’s fine, plenty warm,” she said, still gently blowing the chocolate and lifting it to her lips for another taste.
“Oh crap, I almost forgot the best part, just a minute,” he said, dashing back to the truck, returning with a bag of miniature marshmallows. “Can’t have hot cocoa without these.” He opened the bag and took a handful filling both of their mugs to overflowing before sitting back down next to Blanche.
“Seymour, you’ve thought of everything tonight. I’ve had such a good time, you are truly a man of mystery aren’t you?”
“I don’t know about that. I’m afraid most the time I’m kind of a bumbling idiot, but I know one thing for sure, I like being with you, and the way you make me feel when we're together,” he suggested.
“Ditto Seymour, ditto,” Blanche said, taking another sip of her hot chocolate and staring across a picturesque lake surrounded by lush forested hills and valleys. The moonlight shimmering off the gently moving water provided just enough light to the scene, to bring the entire image into perspective. Near the water's edge she could make out the black shape of an animal drinking from the stillness of the lake and the sounds of crickets surrounded them, playing nature’s own version of a restful hymn. Fireflies danced above them in the air, painting patterns in the sky.
“Blanche, try this,” he said, taking the now empty mug from her hand.
He motioned for her to lay down on the blanket, he did the same, their bodies touching shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee. The sky that stretched out before them twinkled with more than a million brilliant stars and lights. There was no need for words, both could feel what was happening, and they shared the moment in silence for a time. Seymour lifted his hands behind his head to act as a pillow, and Blanche took the cue, moving her head to rest on his muscular chest and shoulder, their backs still firmly pressed against the rigid earth.
“Can you see why I come up here to think?” he finally said.
“Sure, really clears your head and gives you some perspective. Thanks for bringing me here. This is a special place.”
“If you’d like, I’d love to show it to you in the daylight, not quite as romantic but equally as beautiful.”
“You’ve got a date, anytime.” She lifted up on her elbow, leaned down and gave him a kiss that he returned, being careful not to scare her off on their first date. “Thank you so much Seymour Wood.” She laid her head back down on his comfortable, strong shoulder, staring into the night’s sky and whispered ever so softly, just beyond Seymour’s ability to hear, “Thank you.”