A SHORT STORY ABOUT A SHORT EXPERIENCE

 This is a true story of a unusual experience that happened to me a few years ago!  I found it funny so wrote the story about it.  I was surprised that it happened when I was 65!  

Dalliance Among Dahlias: A story

Or Mikel, the Lothario

 

Rose decided to avoid crowds of the festival and visit the Swan Island Dahlia farm a day early, so she grabbed her camera and purse and headed out to Canby.  This way she would be able to get unrestricted shots of the blossoms and the bees visiting them, as well as avoid the heat of the day. I could also try to get photos of the koi in the pond there.

As she strolled around the main garden, she noticed there were only about fifty people there, and she smiled noticing some had cameras draped around their necks or cell phones in hand. 

This is nice to not have bumper-to-bumper butts and loud talk.

“Oh, there are too many pretty ones! I can’t buy them all,” one lady near her remarked.  She smiled in agreement and continued to stroll, enthralled by the exquisite colors.  As she meandered through the garden, she noticed a tall, dark-haired man also snapping photos, his back to her, and she thought how his wavy curls reminded her of Clay’s hair.  He has been gone nearly five years.

Crazy Legs, Daydreamer, Bahama Mama, Dusty Rose, First Kiss, Prince Charming, Love Bug, Beach Bum…the flower names are adorably cute. Who has that job to name them?

As she walked away from the main area into the field, she could hear music in the background and her stroll took on a little dancing lilt to the beat.  At one point she paused, raised her face to the sky, closed her eyes, breathed a deep breath and smiled. She was remembering the first time she’d been here with Clay.

Click. Click. She knew the sound of a camera.  Rose opened her eyes and glanced to the left a few feet away. There stood the dark, curly-haired man, his camera at his eye, aimed in her direction. When the camera lowered, she saw his grinning face, and deep, dark eyes.  He is quite handsome.

“Did you take my picture?” she asked without thinking.

He smiled bigger, took a few steps closer, and drew her into those eyes, those intense eyes.

“I always take an opportunity to capture beauty.” His voice was deep, the accent definitely French. He looked more like he was from India; the black curls, dark complexion, ebony eyes. Really!

Rose laughed nervously, not knowing how to react. Then she turned and continued walking, camera at ready. He matched her pace, which was slow.

“What is your name? I am Mikel,” He offered his hand.

“I’m Rose,” she responded, holding her hand out to his, expecting a shake, but instead he bent, drew it to his lips, and kissed it, his eyes on her. She shyly giggled. He must be European.

“You enjoy photography?” Mikel asked.

She smiled. “It’s a favorite pastime of mine. I enjoy photography and nature. When I have my camera with me, I do not focus on worries or problems, just on the beauty I see.”

“I enjoy capturing beauty as well,” he stated, a sly grin on his face. “It’s a way to preserve special moments. Do you live in Oregon or are you a visitor?”

Her slow stride kept their walk unhurried and talk casual. “I live here and love Oregon.  Nature is my thing. There is so much to see and enjoy.” She paused contemplative. “You sound like you have a French accent. I know they speak French in many countries. Are you from France?”

“Ah yes, I lived most of my life in France. I have traveled around Europe quite a bit and now am in America for a while. I was told of this place and decided to come to see. I am pleased I did.”  He unexpectedly touched her arm and they both stopped walking. 

“Are you married?” Mikel asked, his hand moving to her left hand. “I noticed you wear no ring.”

Suddenly the image of her husband popped into her mind again. “I was married for 36 years but he died in 2012.” Don’t cry.

She quickly withdrew her hand and glancing away, resumed her walk, he beside her. 

“I am sorry.”

She glanced at him and wistfully smiled.  After a couple minutes of silence, Mikel asked her if she had been to Europe. She told him of going to France and how she loved the Loire valley and that she’d also visited London, Stonehenge, and Edinburgh.  “I loved Edinburgh! So much history there. Such friendly people, too.”

They sauntered through the fields and chatted of travel experiences. After an hour, they turned to head back towards the main area of the farm. 

“May I have your number?” Mikel abruptly asked casually.  She stopped and gazed at him, rather amazed.

“How old are you?” she inquired, knowing he was younger and oh, so handsome. He should be somewhere charming a pretty and much younger woman!  

“I am 42.  Why does that matter?” he questioned.

“Well, I’m old enough to be your mother!”

He laughed spontaneously, tilting his head back. She blushed and felt the heat of it.

Mikel regarded her with his penetrating look. Those eyes!  “Women in France often have affairs with younger men. Age should not matter. If an attraction is there…” and he stopped, not finishing the sentence, holding her with his gaze. 

She felt herself burning and knew her blush was probably glowing red. 

Oh, he is charming! What would my friends call him? A lothario?

Casually Mikel reached out and touched her cheek, moving his fingers down to her chin, where they paused.  “You blush. Such innocence in someone who was married for so many years.” A jolt of electricity bolted through her.

“It’s getting hot! I must go! I have to meet a friend somewhere,” she blurted awkwardly, taking a step back.

He smiled, glancing deep into her eyes with his ebony eyes.  She spun around and continued the stroll toward the main area and her car, not believing this was happening. Things like this do not happen to me! It’s something like you see in a movie! It’s like a romance novel, not what really happens! Am I on Candid Camera? Is that show still on?

Rose didn’t feel threatened, just stunned, uneasy and very bewildered.

Mikel asked again for her number. “We could go out to dinner. You could show me some of the beauty here. Come on. I will be a gentleman.”

She thought back to that day in her writing group where she had said she wanted to walk on the wild side. This is not at all what I had in mind or ever imagined! He is way too young! And he might expect more from me than I am willing to…NO!

At her car, she pressed the unlock button on her key and tossed her camera into the back seat, then turned, leaning against the closed door. He stood close, about a foot in front of her. Too close. She was almost afraid to breathe.

“I hope you enjoy your time in Oregon. I must go,” she muttered softly, afraid to move because of his nearness.

Mikel leaned in toward her, his face close to her left ear.

Don’t kiss me! Don’t kiss me! Don’t kiss me! Her eyes were closed.

His right hand drew her hair behind her left ear and he throatily whispered, “Are you sure I cannot have your number?”

“I am sure!” she quickly declared, feeling the red heat in her cheeks. Lord have mercy!

Mikel reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, casually slipping it into her purse.  “Then maybe you will call me. I do hope so.”

He reached with his left arm and opened the front door for her. She carefully slid past him into the car seat, tossing her purse onto the passenger side, then quickly realized she needed the keys and fumbled for them in the little pocket of the purse.  Once they were in the ignition, the John Denver CD started playing: “Let me lay down beside you, let me always be with you, come let me love you, come love me again.” 

She instantly turned down the volume and awkwardly glanced up at him standing there in the open door, bent slightly toward her, grinning broadly.

“Au revoir, Rose,” Mikel said huskily, touching two fingers to his lips. He held them out as he backed away and closed the car door. 

She timidly waved and then immediately felt silly. He was still holding the two fingers up, head tilted, as she slowly backed out and drove away.

Is it hot in here?

 

 

Mikel looked rather like this actor, Naveen Andrews, but Mikel had shorter hair. You can understand why I was flustered!