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My heart fluttered briefly at his chivalry. Down girl, I scolded myself. It’s just dinner between friends.
Outside the restaurant, the sun was setting over the Pacific, casting gorgeous pink and orange hues across the darkening sky. Alexander gestured down the street. “Can I walk you home again?”
“I’d like that,” I said, feeling a nervous energy buzz through me.
We strolled down Ocean View Drive; the conversation flowing seamlessly. When we reached my front door, we paused, both suddenly shy.
“Well, thank you for dinner,” I said. “And the company. I had a delightful time.”
Alexander smiled warmly. “So did I. We’ll have to do it again soon.”
Then, before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and placed a soft, lingering kiss on my cheek.
“Goodnight, Etta,” he murmured.
I stood there stunned, my cheek tingling, as I watched him disappear into the dusk. My emotions were a jumbled mess: surprise, excitement, and uncertainty.
But one thing was certain - with that simple kiss, everything had changed between Alexander and me. This was uncharted territory, but oh, how I wanted to explore it.
My mind swirled with unanswered questions as I stepped inside my house. But I knew one thing for certain - Carolyn’s gossip mill would work overtime tomorrow. And did I care? No, I don’t think I did.
Chapter 11
Closing the front door behind me with a soft click, I relished the lingering sensation of Alexander’s tender kiss on my cheek. For a moment, I stood there, my fingers lightly tracing the spot where his lips had touched, a smile spreading across my face. The evening had taken an unexpectedly romantic turn.
As I climbed the stairs to my bedroom to change into comfy pajamas, my mind replayed the night’s events. Dinner at Casa D’Oliva had been a delightful experience. Alexander and I had talked for hours, sharing stories and laughing over childhood memories. The conversation flowed so effortlessly, as if we hadn’t just reconnected recently after so many years apart. The chemistry between us felt remarkably strong and undeniably right.
Sitting on my bed in my pajamas, I hugged my pillow tight as I replayed Alexander’s goodnight kiss in my mind. The way he gently cupped my cheek and the look in his eyes right before he leaned in gave me butterflies just thinking about it. I couldn’t stop smiling.
Feeling nostalgic, I remembered seeing a box of old family photo albums tucked away in the closet. I pulled them out and settled onto the bed, eager to revisit cherished moments from my childhood in Pebble Point.
The first album I opened was filled with sun-kissed polaroids of my younger self building sandcastles with Dad. I smiled sadly, tracing my fingers over his face. He would have loved to know I was back home.
I flipped through page after page, soaking up memories of climbing the old lighthouse, flying kites in the park, and playing on the beach. Bittersweet pangs of nostalgia washed over me. So much had changed since then, so much lost and so much gained.
Towards the back, I found some candid shots of Alexander. He was like family back then, as dear to my father as a brother. Many photos showed the two of them laughing together or lost in animated conversation. Alexander looked so carefree and charming even then.
I turned the page and was greeted by a photo of my father that made me catch my breath. It was a solo shot of him standing outside one of his architectural projects, gazing up at the building with pride and accomplishment. I remembered the day it was taken so vividly. Right after this innovative community center he designed opened to the public, the culmination of years of hard work and visionary thinking.
In the photo, he stood with his arms crossed, and head tilted back to take in the modern glass and steel structure rising before him against the cloudless blue sky. His hair was windswept, and there was a smile on his face. He looked so satisfied to see his creative vision made into a reality, his architectural talents manifested in physical form to benefit the community.
I turned the page, and a photograph of Dad’s home office leaped out at me. It was a candid shot, probably taken by Mom, showing him sitting at his large drafting table, brow slightlyfurrowed as he worked on project blueprints. Late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window behind him, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.
I traced my fingers over the image, remembering how I used to tiptoe into this room as a little girl, trying not to disturb Dad as he drew. I would curl up in the old armchair in the corner with a book, comforted by the scratch of his pencil and the smell of paper and graphite that filled the space.
Sometimes, he would look up and invite me to come look at his latest sketches and models. I loved watching his hands bring his architectural visions to life, imagining myself as a successful architect like him one day.
After Mom left, I often found solace in Dad’s office on days when the grief felt too heavy. I would lay my head in his lap while he stroked my hair, neither of us needing to speak. Just being together in that creative space was enough.
Now, gazing at the photo, I could almost see Dad hunched over the drafting table, feel the sun’s warmth streaming in. I blinked back sudden tears, overwhelmed by how much I missed his comforting presence.
His office was almost exactly as he’d left it - drawing instruments and models sitting half-finished, awaiting their creator. It seemed to wait for the scratch of pencil on paper, the quiet intensity of the artistic mind hard at work. But the room was cold and silent now, devoid of the creative spirit that had once filled it.
Still, as I sat there clutching the photo album, the memories wrapped around me like a warm embrace. I could feel Dad’s presence in that space. It soothed the ache of losing him, if only for a moment. His office would come alive once more, but this time, with the tap of my keyboard instead of the scratch of his pencil.
I closed the album, feeling contemplative but content. The past could never be recreated, but the present was mine to shape. And with Alexander back in my life, it seemed my future was shaping up to be pretty wonderful, too.
***
