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“That’s a cute place, by the way. The food was good, too,” I offer.
“Yeah, it’s coming along. We made big changes to the menu and overall ambiance of the place when we bought it, which met with a lot of pushback from the old management. It’s been a pain. The place has more than doubled its average sales, but the former owner insists the way he did it was better.”
“More comfortable, maybe?” I add. “Not everyone likes change.”
“I suppose. You mind if we just hang here for a while? The thought of getting on that bike is too much right now.”
“You don’t have to try to sell me. I’m going to pass out from a carb coma right here under this tree. Then I may go shopping in those little boutiques there. I want to get something for my sister on this trip.”
“That’s right. You mentioned her before. What’s she like?”
“Willow. She’s two years older than me. She lives in San Diego with her husband, Stephen. She’s going to have my first niece or nephew in a few months.”
“That’s exciting.” Connor reaches into his backpack and pulls out his worn copy ofThe Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.
“Are you going to read for a while?” I ask, offering him the last bits of my gözeleme. He shakes his head at my offer, and I crumple the paper around it and set it aside for now.
“Do you mind? We’re not in a hurry today.”
I shake my head. “Would you read me the part about Christmas? That’s my favorite part,”
“It’s my favorite, too,” he says and quickly turns to the passage. He starts to read, and I’m quickly hypnotized by his low, smooth voice. He’s so familiar with the story, he’s almost acting out the scene he’s reading. As he does, his voice becomes faster and louder during moments of action or suspense and softer and slower during the meaningful conversations between the Pevensie children and Santa Claus. I let my eyes fall closed and allow the sounds of his voice and the birds and the murmur of the crowds at the park to carry me away.
I wake later with my cheek planted on Connor’s thick thigh. It’s damp from sweat. I’ve obviously been lying here a while. I let the sunlight in through tiny cracks as I flutter my eyelids open and see two boys kicking a soccer ball back and forth about a hundred yards from our tree. A warm summer breeze drifts lazily over me. It feels too hot and tired to do much more than just breathe down on the earth. It’s moving just enough to keep us from melting under the rising heat of a South Carolina summer day.
Beyond the soccer players, high up in the sky, the puffy clouds gather into greying columns that work their way to block out the sun. It’s a welcome respite from the blaring heat. In minutes, I feel the cool shade of them wash over my skin.
There is a light scratching sound above my head and I move to rise, but my ear strikes the corner of something hard and a bit sharp.
“Lie down,” Connor commands. “Be still.”
“Why? Is there a bee on me?” I grin. I begin to stroke at his leg with my fingertips letting the damp hair curl around my fingernails.
“No, I’m sketching and you’ll mess up my model.”
“Oh, who’s your model?”
“Stop moving,” he says forcefully, but not meaning it. Not really.
“I’m not moving. I’m talking.”
“Well, that’s what I’m sketching, so stop moving your mouth.”
“You’re drawing my mouth?” Teasing Connor may be my new favorite pastime. I smile wide.
“I’m sketching lots of things. Right now, I’m sketching the corner of your mouth. Stop smiling.”
Hearing his mock anger at my grin only makes me smile wider. A soft giggle starts to escape my throat and I feel the stifled laugh vibrate through my body against his lap, where my head is resting.
“Well, now you’ve done it.” He lays the sketchbook aside and helps me sit up. “You’ve ruined the whole thing. You’re totally hideous now.”
“Let me see,” I beg, adjusting my tank top and shorts.
“Nope.” Connor slides the small sketchbook back into his backpack and zips it up. He leans forward and kisses me softly. “Time to go. I’m ready to get back to some air conditioning and I’ve got like six emails I’ve got to reply to before Ox has a seizure.”
“Back on the bikes?” I look around, but they’re gone.
“Nope. I called and had the rental company come pick them up when you were asleep. According to the GPS, we need to walk down the path for a while. It’s the Ankle Express for us, Lainey Bird.”
