Nights with Her
By Alex OConnor
Nights with Her
He stepped out from the warmth of the cabin and into the crisp mountain air. His rocking chair swayed gently in the wind, facing the glowing sunset. As he eased himself into the seat and leaned back, he felt an overwhelming rush of gratitude. This, he thought, is what I’ve always wanted. The diamond blue lake to the left was dotted with colorful fishing boats, floating along and enjoying the last moments of daylight. To his right, snow capped mountains rose into the sky above. He could only stare at the mountains for a second or two, it made him dizzy if he continued. He stroked his greying beard and let out a relieving sigh. He made it.
He reflected on his life. All the ups and down. How his best friend, his wife, his partner in crime, had helped him through it all. How they built this life together with memories that would last a lifetime.
The night in Paris, when she wore the red dress. How she stubbornly refused to drink anything but red wine in order to match her colors. How they watched the fireworks explode into an array of colors in the night sky, the Eiffel tower standing strong in the background.
The night in Venice, as they rowed through the tightly-knit waterways that locals would call streets, eating foreign foods and witnessing the cultural shock that was Italian life. How he rocked the boat, teasing her, before the sailor gave him a warning look.
The night in New York, when he proposed. He didn’t wear his favorite trousers that night, it was raining and he did not like the idea of a damp knee. She said yes nonetheless. It was in times square, not where he had planned, but the walk to the Rockefeller building was just too far to walk on such a cold, wet night.
The night in Norway, where they first experienced the northern lights. Fluorescent greens and purples swayed effortlessly in the sky as they watched in awe. She was pregnant that night, they just didn’t know it yet.
The night in Los Angeles, when the stranger ran away with the camera she just purchased. He ran after him, threatened to kill him. But for what? A camera? It wasn’t worth the hassle. Plus, the Hollywood sign wasn’t as good as it looked in the pictures. It was rusted and weathered. The real view, he thought, was her smile as she danced along the country trail in her casual trainers and tracks.
And now, the night in Canada. Where he sat on his chair, taking in the beauty of the world. His wife came out of the house and joined him. “I love you.” They both said it at the same time, and both grinned their cheesy smiles. “Have you seen Nia?” she asked. “yeah,” he said. “She’s in her room. Told me she’s working on a new book.”