Memory Piece

I remember the day I first met him.

As I hung up the phone after giving him directions to my apartment, his very familiar number disappearing off the screen. Though I could recognize his number anywhere, I had not saved it. It sounds weird now, after months of conversations and actually meeting in less than half hour. But well, he is not going to go through my cell!

I look around the room once more and find a small crumpled paper in the corner under the table. After tossing it in the wastebasket, on second thought, I hide the basket in the closet.

I’m forgetting something. I frown trying to focus. Yes, the incense! I quickly clean the stand off the ashes from the old burn and light up a fresh one with sandalwood scent. The thin streak of smoke disseminates and the fragrance quickly fills the room. I open up the windows just in case the scent is overpowering for him, and, as usual, the neighbors’ blank white wall stares back from 10 feet away. I stick my neck out the window to see if it is still overcast, but the sky is barely visible. This stupid awning prevents any kind of upward view. According to the forecast, it is supposed to be cloudy with the temperature in the low 60s today. So much for the almost-summer June weather!

The reflection of a slender petite girl with glasses doesn’t do much to assure me. I look at my jeans and black sweater in the mirror and sigh. I wanted to wear the new breezy yellow dress that I had bought from Macy’s last week. But it looks like the weather has something else in mind.

It is my dad’s 58th birthday today. I already called and wished him a happy birthday first thing this morning. Of course, there was no mention of this guy I’m meeting today. I feel a tinge of guilt and quickly brush it off. I am in no mood to either answer or dodge his lengthy interview starting with “Who is this boy?!”

Involuntarily, I glance at the clock and 20 minutes have already passed. He could be here any minute now! It feels very quiet, with just faint noise from the occasional cars outside. At the sound of a car coming to a stop, my mouth feels dry. My heart seems to be almost thudding against the chest wall, threatening to fall out. I slowly make my way to the window facing the driveway and peek through drawn blinds. It is him – parallel parking his car. Here I am, trying discretely to get my first look at him, and out of nowhere, the sun peeks through the clouds, and shines directly on the driver’s window. Squinting for a clearer view doesn’t help - the sun’s reflection is too bright. The door opens and he steps out and my breathing just stops. Glancing away from the main entrance, through the window blinds, he looks right at me, and smiles.