Bedelia had only minutes to prepare for Finn’s visit; with brownies baking, she hurriedly changed from her chocolate-spattered T-shirt, into a fuschia-colored one featuring Hawaiian hibiscus.
Smirking defiantly at the mirror, she abandoned her old-lady’s lacquered “helmet-head do”, and pinned the hair on either side of her temples up, letting it fall softly around her cheeks; the gray strands were invading the brown slowly, in a pleasing pattern, so that she appeared to have light silver wings (wisdom?) lifting her hazelnut eyes.
A dab of palest pink lipstick completed her brave efforts, and she rushed to set the table for a casual lunch…just as thunder grumbled and a sudden hard shower began; “Oh, I hope that’s not a harbinger,” she whispered.
Finn, unprepared for rain, arrived mere drops shy of drenched, holding a bag from a Greek deli and smiling in his calm, undemanding (handsome) way; Bedelia blushed shyly, quickly taking his damp jacket.
“I should have inquired earlier—how do you feel about Gyros?” he asked apologetically, and was then rewarded as her face brightened with unexpected enthusiasm.
“We have something in common…it’s my favorite sandwich, and I’ve not had one in years”; she gestured toward the dining table where, her nervousness having abated, they both ate eagerly, unselfconsciously—the juicy Tzatziki sauce (cucumber & yogurt) dripping from the succulent meat, down their chins and through their fingers—the pile of paper napkins mostly ignored…as well as the rain, now playing gleefully against the window.
©Jael Stevens/Blue Heron Boulevard, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.