We continue strolling down the sidewalk that leads back to the car, surrounded by a mix of tourists and locals. Some are shopping, while others are hopping between bars, laughing and enjoying the night. The street is lined with small mom-and-pop shops, each offering handmade soap, custom shirts, quirky stickers, and vintage clothes. A few bars dot the area, their neon signs glowing in the evening light and just up ahead, we pass Cece’s, the only club in town, its loud house music spilling out onto the street.
I’ll have to see if Gen enjoys going out. Maybe one night we can check out Cece’s, or if not, one of the bars. There’s Brooklynes, The Fox’s Tail, and The Bear Claw. It’s like everything in this town is either named after an animal or a girl’s name—I have no idea why, but it adds to the charm.
“Are you the going out type?” I ask Gen.
“Am I? I’m the life of the party!” She says with excitement.
Figured. “I should have known, you seem like it,” I tell her. “I was thinking maybe we can go out one of the days you’re here. There’s a couple bars down here and a club.” I point to the bar we just passed.
“I’m down!” She says.
Perfect. We reach the car and I open the door for Genevieve. She slides in gracefully, and I close it behind her, careful not to catch her hands or feet. Walking around to the driver’s side, I slip into the seat and start the engine. The harsh noise of the car struggling to start is filling the silence between us.
“We’re gonna have to wait here a few minutes for her to warm up,” I tell her.
“Her? Does she have a name?” Gen asks.
“Savannah,” I say.
“Savannah? Sounds like a Southern girl who breaks hearts.”
She’s sitting there talking about car names and I’m thinking about how she might be the best thing to ever sit in this seat.
“I don’t know about heart breaker, but she sure is a piece of work. Takes her only a decade to warm up.”
A soft hint of a smile appears on Genevieve’s face.
Once Savannah is ready to roll, I pull out of the spot and am about to take her home when I have one more trick up my sleeve.
***
There’s a park here in Silver Lake that offers free gondola rides. It’s one of those hidden gems the city has, a peaceful spot where you can just lose yourself in your thoughts and get mesmerized by the view. I come here often and it’s the perfect place to do both.
I would know.
Tonight, I’m bringing Genevieve, hoping she’ll experience the same sense of calm and wonder. I want her to see Silver Lake for what it truly is and give her the best tour a local can offer.
“Where are we? I thought we were heading back to the apartment?” She asks.
“We were, but then I had a better idea,” I tell her.
“Should I text Lana my code word? Are you going to kill me?” She asks and that has me stop what I’m doing. I can’t help but laugh.
“What? You have a code word in case you think I’m going to kill you? Do I want to know?” I ask, and I really do want to know.
“Yes and no,” she says and then giggles.
I park the car and walk around to open her door once again. She steps out, taking my hand as I lead her toward the gondola entrance. The employee greets us with a smile and lets us in immediately, since there’s no line. We’re soon seated in a gondola, ready to take in the view.
As the gondola begins to rise, I realize just how romantic this moment is. I’m even more glad I brought Genevieve here. With each ascent, the town below shrinks, the buildings and streets growing smaller and smaller. From up here, it looks almost like a game, as if you could pick it up and move it somewhere else. But it’s the lights that make it truly breathtaking, casting a warm glow over the town and adding a magical touch to the view.
As the gondola rises higher, the mountain peaks come into sharper focus, so close it feels like you could reach out and touch them. Gen sits beside me, speechless, her eyes wide in awe. The only word that escapes her lips since we’ve been in this little glass chamber is “wow.” I take that as a sign that she’s impressed.
“You like what you see?” I ask her.
“Like it? I love it! It’s beautiful, Aspen. Thank you for showing me this,” she says.
“Anytime, Snowflake. I’m just glad you’re here. Thanks for coming again, it really means a lot,” I tell her.
