I almost fell off my seat with his response. I cough lightly, then take out the water bottle I hid inside the shopping bag and begin chugging it down. Anthony sure trains some ridiculous guards. "What's his hobby?"
"You."
"I cannot be his hobby." I stand my ground.
"Why not?"
"Because a person is not a hobby."
"Having sexual intercourse can be a hobby."
"No, it cannot." I momentarily forget we are in a public shopping grounds.
"Some suggest that sexual intercourse is a form of exercise. Exercise is a broad category that includes running, swimming, etc. Hence, sexual intercourse is a form of a hobby."
If I were drinking water, then it would've fallen out of my mouth. I decided to play along with the joking guard. "Should I wrap myself up in a ribbon as his gift?"
He folds his hand in front of himself, standing straight and tall. "I believe Mr.Maranzano will be pleased with that gift."
I decide to not speak with the guard any further, knowing he is useless when it comes to the gift-giving department. When I realized that nothing fits Anthony inside the shopping plaza, I decided to go more local. Before I left, I sent a message to Lily saying I'd meet her at home.
I love the quiet days, the ones where you can hear the sounds of the wind and the laughter of children. The birdsong came so sweetly, almost tangible, warming the heart. I would walk along the road, sight set upon the clouds. They condense to form the random objects that please my mind.
On these quiet days when everyone is at peace, it's a chance for exploration, and I intend to take my chances. Strings of guitar capture my attention and I maneuver towards the small crowd to see a young man settling himself on the wooden chair - his lip part and a sweet melody drip out of his saturated lungs.
The man stops his soulful sound as his olive eyes etch into mine, and strands of muddy hair strike across his somehow sweet-looking features. There's a cross hanging on a single ear, truly stunning. Steadily, his lip tilts upward into a bright smile, free of burden. His head bends. "Beautiful lady in the yellow dress," he said without an ounce of Italian, indicating that he is not a native.
I look around for a woman in a yellow dress, but soon I find everyone looking at me. Moving my head downward, I realize I'm the lady wearing the yellow dress. Well, it's not yellow, more like lemon. Who am I kidding? It's yellow.
I point a finger at myself, and he nods. "Yes, you."
Hesitantly, I walked towards him and sat down on the empty stool. "You're not from here, are you?" I shake my head. He smiles, "I guess we have something in common."
"I'm married."
He laughs, "I see the ring." I chuckle lowly, before wrapping my fingers around the diamond. "I believe everyone who walks past you is blinded by it." I glance down at the ring on my left finger and smile. "Whoever he is, he is indeed a lucky man to be able to marry a woman like you."
I didn't remove my sight. "No. I'm the lucky one."
"Beautiful and modest, truly a one-of-a-kind," he said, and I looked up to meet his glorious olives once again. "How about a song? For you and your husband? For prosperity in your marriage?"
I twist the ring on my finger, feeling the uncomfortable sensation in my chest. "He isn't present."
He began stringing the guitar. "Then, you must listen carefully and relay my gift to him when he returns." I smile and nod.
His eyes closed, and he began knocking his worn-out shoe against the stool as his fingers string, creating a beautiful sound. "One...Two...Three...Four-" he whispers lowly.
"Oh, kiss me Like you wanna love forever
And I'll play that game The game that repeats every day Hit me with the spotlight And I'll sing your beauty to the world
You were made to keep my heart beating Beating oh, beating for you I've been feeling nothing Until I met you-"
The last melody fades into the air, and he opens his eyes. "How was it?"
I smile widely. "Beautiful."
The audience claps and throws money into his guitar case. I opened my purse, but he held my hand and shook his head. "This is a gift to you and your husband. Please, give me some face and not degrade it with a value."
"That's unfair for others to give you something but I cannot."
"Your smile is the payment."
"Smooth talker."
He laughs and stands up, thanks everyone's presents before placing the guitar inside his money suitcase. "I must use what God had gifted me or else it will be an insult to him."
He closed the suitcase and stood up, walking towards the store. "Grazie per avermi permesso di usare la tua roba."
The man smiled in return before looking back at his newspaper.
"What's your name?" I ask.
He smirks, "I'm not interested in women."
"I'm not either."
He laughs, "You got humor. I like that," he throws the guitar case over his shoulder. "How about this lemonade."
Did he call me Lemonade? I knew I shouldn't purchase this dress. Gianni is right; I should stop buying clothes on my own.
"Next time we meet, I'll tell you my name," he places out his hand.
"Deal broccoli."
He lifts his brows, "Broccoli?"
We release hands, "Your eyes are green, like broccoli."
"Emerald, Jade, Clover?" he suggests new nicknames.
"No, I'm going to stick with the nickname broccoli."
He laughs before shaking his head "See you around lemonade," he winks, before walking away.
"Seriously though!" I chuckled, "What's your name?"
He smiles a truly beautiful one. "Larry...Larry Dominguez."
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