The Summer Dress

Reads: 28  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about young love and uncertainty.

Submitted: January 11, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 11, 2019

A A A

A A A


The saying goes that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but anyone that looked at her or got to know her would think the same thing; that she is beautiful in the face, the body, and in the mind. Her face is vibrant, her hair flows even if there is no draft, her skin has no flaws and is soft and warm to the touch. I met her on my first day at my new job and from the instant I saw her, she had this power over my eyes that didn’t allow them to look away. She works just a few cubicles away from me and I thought in the first couple of weeks I would get to know her. When I decided to ask her if she would like to go on a date with me, I felt like there was a lump of coal stuck in my throat and every negative thought began to run through my head, “what if I say the wrong thing?” or, “what if she doesn’t like me?” When I stepped up to talk to her, her flowing blonde hair was down and straightened and she was wearing a professional looking brown sweater vest over a white blouse and a skirt with a plaid print. “Hi Vicky,” I said in an uneasy voice.
“Hey! How are you?” she replied in an excited sounding voice.
“I’m doing good. So I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me this weekend and maybe out to a bar afterwards or something.” At this point my mind was running at a million miles an hour thinking of all the possible responses she could throw back at me.
“Yeah! I would like that. How’s about you pick me up at say seven o’clock. Oh! And here’s my address.”
“Okay, so it’s a date, and I’ll try not to get lost on the way to your house,” she gave a courtesy laugh after that lame joke.
While I was driving over to her house, I was rehearsing what I was going to say when I would first see her, “you look great,” no, that’s not complimentary enough, “you look gorgeous,” that might freak her out. When I drove up to her house and saw where she lives for the first time, I couldn’t believe that she such a bigger house than me in a better neighborhood. It was painted green with picturesque windows and a koi pond with willow trees overhanging it and the short walkway. I stepped up the two stairs to get to her door and took one last sigh before I rang the doorbell. The door opened and there she was, wearing a pale yellow summer dress and her hair straightened like how she sometimes does it for work, but it looked cleaner and less stressed. “You look amazing,” I complimented.
“Thank you! So do you,” she replied.
“Thanks! So are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, so where are we going to eat?”
“This great little Italian place I know on Main Street.”
“Oh great! I love Italian!”
The drive over to Giovanni’s Restaurant started a little awkward since I was so nervous, but once I calmed down we started to talk to each other. “So what kind of music do you like? I have all kinds of CD’s so you can pick out whatever you want,” I remarked to her. “Okay,” she was shuffling through my collection until she stopped, “oh wow! Ace of Base! I thought I was the only one who listened to them.” “Are you kidding, they’re like my favorite band!” I exclaimed. We continued sifting through the usual conversation people go through when they’re on a first date; asking each other’s favorite movies and TV shows so we feel we know each other a little better.
When we arrived to Giovanni’s, it felt like every person at the restaurant knew we were on our first date; I could feel them gawking and paying attention to our conversation to make sure we were both saying the right things. Dinner could not have gone any better, the food was amazing and we held a conversation seemingly the entire time. We were there until closing time and I felt like I knew this girl since the day I was born. We shared anything from the obvious things to dark secrets about each other. It was dark outside and our candle had burned down to the bottom so only about half an inch of the wax was left. “So do you wanna go to a bar now?” I asked. “You know, I’d rather go back to your place,” she replied but I couldn’t believe what she said.
We held hands as we walked out to my car and I hesitated before I opened the passenger side door for her. She turned around and we gazed into each other’s eyes for what seemed to be an eternity and our faces inched closer. Her lips were silky smooth and they caressed mine. I felt closer to her than I had ever felt to anyone else. On the drive to my home, we shared embarrassing childhood stories and her laughter was intoxicating. She was about to tell her story about the time she got lost in the wilderness with her close friends when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a semi-truck careening into the passenger side of my car.
The next morning the workers at Giovanni’s Restaurant were preparing for lunch while watching the news as usual. “And in sadder news, a semi-truck ran into the side of a Subaru Impreza last night on 6th Street. The truck driver is in the hospital with a few cuts and bruises, but the two in the Subaru were killed. They are identified as two females in their mid to late-twenties,” the woman on the TV reported. The workers in the restaurant looked at each other with astonished faces and remembered the two women who were in love with each other after one night; they were meant for each other.


© Copyright 2019 Kent Bonacki. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: