Summer love-4

This series details the beginning and how I met him. The first few installments can be found here:

https://lynzrealcooking.com/2018/06/01/1-summer-love-life-story/

https://lynzrealcooking.com/2018/06/08/summer-love-2/

https://lynzrealcooking.com/2018/06/15/summer-love-series-3/

 

Spokane, Wa. 1982

Patterned tones now escalated to a racket that could no longer be ignored and sluggish fingers batted at the clock that sat on a maple nightstand just beyond my reach. The realization that I had overslept sent me into a panicked rush. There was still plenty of time to make it but it would be close. I jumped into the shower and slathered soap and shampoo everywhere quickly washing off the stench of grease and grime from the night before. Work clothes were pulled over wet arms and legs and a search for the soiled apron that had been washed and dried became my primary focus. Tossing sheets and pillows brought me back to the bedpost where the green apron hung and was then thrown into my bag.  I grabbed car keys, brushed my hair and walked out of the middle door and down the gravel driveway.

The sound of an engine roaring up the dirt road went unnoticed as I backed the car out from between two large trees. Honking from a brown vehicle just behind me prompted slamming on brakes, narrowly missing the front fender. No one ventured up the mile long road that wove and tucked beneath a heavy forest. Only five houses marked the path up to the end where the last home stood. White shingles, numerous decks and three floors stacked one on top of the other all comprised the wood house, topped with a triangular shaped skylight. Aunt Tutu had described it as the crazy house on the hill when she introduced us to this unique and well-hidden home that stood just overlooking her property. She could not imagine a family home that resembled a “bachelor pad” and had watched as it was built just 2 years before. But as we entered it was clear, this was the place and would be for some forty years to come.

The vehicle heaved and came to a loud stop just between my car and a large pine that towered beyond a blue and white speckled sky. It was him, the Middle Eastern man from the weekend before. Final words that day had indicated that he would like to visit and I had given a nod and grin, knowing this most likely meant nothing.  His arms wrapped around my waist and he reminded me that he was a man of his word and always kept his promise.