Prelude to a Summer Romance
It’s the first day of spring - a glorious, picture perfect realization of what spring should be. Flowers are blooming, bees are buzzing, the sap is rising, and I have a 15 year old daughter with a boyfriend who is lurking. I’m feeling the need for a new sort of vigilance.
I’ve given the girl some Saturday chores. I should have known that when she had to take a shower to walk the dog that the boy was in the neighborhood. As she went about her housework, the boy started a pick-up game of baseball in the street right in front of our house. I asked her if he was waiting for her. She said, “No.”
Later I sent her outside with the kid brother in tow to work in the garden. The ball game dissolved and the boy moved into the yard to hang out. I kept watch through the afternoon. I saw the way he looked at her and was constantly reaching for her – her hair, the drawstring of her jacket. I knew better than he did what was driving him. The kid brother was great for distraction and deflection, but I kept checking out the window to be sure I could see where everyone was and what everyone was doing at all times.
At one point, little brother came in the house for some reason I can’t recall. I went to see what the 15 year olds were up to left unsupervised by the 6 year old. They were laying side-by-side in the hammock swinging and talking and holding hands. I wanted to casually go out there and make some excuse to interrupt this moment but as I watched, I was moved by nostalgia. Remembering the sweetness of a lazy Saturday afternoon with romance floating on the warm breezes.
I love my girl so much. I remember being that girl. So it is no wonder I am pulled to the four corners by knowing, remembering, longing, and fear.
I let her have this moment, but soon – if the boy is to stay much longer – he’s going to have to start doing some yard work. Maybe wash my car, too.
