Spring Night Long Ago

I could recall that night in April 1928 vividly. Like yesterday Laurie and I were sitting in the backseat, heading back to Angelino Heights from the theater. Il Trovatore was on stage, and it was that season's first show. The elderly driver drove steadily on the narrow road in complete darkness, quietly humming a tone I couldn't recognize. Laurie was close to me, and I wished I could lean on his shoulder. Though the feelings were confessed, an odd uneasiness remained.

"Did you like the opera?" Laurie asked excitedly.

"Do you want to hear the truth?" I tilted my head. He nodded, and I shrugged. "Well, to be honest, I didn't understand a thing."

Laurie laughed, and I was embarrassed. Lowering my head, I wondered if he thought less of me.

"Frankly, me neither." He coughed to hide his laughter as he sat a litter straighter before speaking in an aristocratic tone that I didn't particularly appreciate: "But it's pure art, and it should be admired and respected."

"Is that so? Is that what you think?" I narrowed my eyes and frowned. "If that's the case, I'm not sure I can be at your level."

He stared at me in astonishment for a few seconds before nudging me and bursting into laughter again: "No, God, no, Anne. I'm joking, don't get mad. Everyone in this circle has been talking about Il Trovatore, and I wanted to see what the fuss is about."

I shook my head.

"Oh, come on," his hands were on my shoulders as he gently shook me. I could no longer keep a straight face and started to smile. I turned to him and found his face inches from mine. In that instant, it was as if the whole world had frozen with smiles on our faces. His hands slid down my arms, and he was no longer touching me. It didn't last long, though, for his hand soon reached for my cheek. His fingertips were cold, but his palm was warm. He stared into my eyes, then looked at my lips. My heart started to race, and I could feel the heat on my cheeks when he leaned in. Not even the darkness could conceal the blush on his pale complexion.

Then all was history. He kissed me with the love that I desperately wanted to feel. And from the corner of my eye, I saw the elderly driver smile.