In The Park
By: Drippy Love Monster (DLM)
Rating: Not Rated
Category: DRR fluff
Spoilers: None
Summary: Observations in the park
Disclaimer: I don't own them, oh but if I did!
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It's a beautiful June day, the sun is shining, and there is isn't a cloud in the sky. It's the kind of day you want to last forever. The birds are singing, and I can smell the sweet fragrance of the flowers in the air. I love days like this.
It's on days like this I find my inspiration. I come to the park and let the sights, sounds and smells slowly melt away my writer's block. I love to watch the people that come here, and on a day like today there are a lot to choose from. I scan the park and see lovers, families, kids playing, even the lonely come to the park on days like this. One pair in particular catches my attention.
She's wearing an off white linen dress, and is the personification of summer as she walks barefoot in the grass. He's carrying her shoes in one hand, while his other is linked with hers. As they walk I notice what an attractive couple they are. They're both brunettes. Her hair is darker than his, but in the shining sun her auburn highlights glow. As they pass, she turns and smiles at me.
Instantly I'm besotted by her, she's beautiful. Her eyes are the most beautiful hazel eyes I've seen, and they light up whenever she looks at her guy. He's a lucky man. I glance over at them again I notice that she's pretty tall for a woman, only a few inches shorter than he is. He's a good looking fella; I'm not in the habit of checking out other guys, but I can admit when another guy is handsome. He seems to be a man's man, a rough and tumble type of guy. He looks like he might be a cop.
His eyes are blue, even from where I'm sitting; I can see that, and like hers, they light up when he looks at her. He's older than she is, eight, maybe even ten years older. I wonder where they met.
He leans in and whispers in her ear. She smiles widely at him, and I can hear her lilting laugh float through the air. A warm breeze ruffles her hair, and he gently tucks it back behind her ear. He leans in and gently kisses her. She parts from him smiling.
"Come on." I hear her tell him as she pulls him to a spot underneath the towering willow beside me.
As they sit, I jot down a few notes in my ever ready journal. I decide that they'll be my inspiration today. In the five minutes I've been watching them; I see potential for a great love story.
She sits with her back against his chest, and her long legs stretched out in front of her. They're in their own little world; he rubs her swollen belly in a protective caress as he kisses her neck. The scene is so drenched in love; I scribble a few more notes. My bench isn't far from the spot they chose, so listen in on their conversation.
"I still say she's a girl," she teases him playfully.
"How do you figure?" he asks as he kisses her neck again. His voice is deep and raspy with a hint of a New York accent
"I just know," she says and angles her body to look at him.
She smiles beautifully at him again. She must be able to get him to do anything when she smiles at him like that. He moves out from behind her, and sits beside her. He places an arm around her, and pulls her close. He gives her another loving kiss.
They part, and she rests her head on his shoulder, his hand automatically goes to her stomach. She plays footsie with him. I smile at this; I haven't seen footsie since high school.
"Take off your shoes, John," she tells him.
"Monica…" He doesn't want to, I bet she smiles at him, and he caves. I watch her intently, now.
"It's summer and I want you to relax…please?" she says, and bam… there it is, that beautiful smile.
"Okay," he says reluctantly.
I knew it, women that beautiful only have to smile, and men bend to their will. Hell, I'm ready to take off my own shoes. When his feet are bare, she resumes her game of footsie.
My magic couple sits under the tree awhile cuddling and then I hear her- Monica gasp.
"What's wrong?" he asks. He sounds a little worried.
She smiles and takes his hand and places it on her belly. "She moved," she whispers.
They wait a little bit for their baby to move again. I'm shamelessly staring as I wait with them. A smile crosses over his face, I take it the baby moved again.
"She's in there alright," he says with a laugh.
"Yeah, no kidding," she says and turns into him. "Can you do me a favor?" she asks him as she trails her finger from his lips, down to his chin, along his neck, to his chest. Man, she's good.
"What's that?" he asks, his voice is hoarser than what I've heard.
"Can you get me a Starbucks frapuccino thingy?"
He leans down and presses his ear to her stomach and her fingers toy with his hair. He comes back up to eye level after a brief moment. "Baby wants ice cream," he says with a smile.
"Yes, but mommy wants Starbucks," she says and he just stares at her with the slightest smile. I've seen that look on a man's face before.
My best friend had it just before he married his wife. That look says, 'I'm so in love with you I can't even remember my own name'.
"Okay, I'll be back."
She watches as he puts his socks and sneakers back on. She's rapt with his every movement. It's obvious she feels the same about him. He stands, and leans over and gives her quick kiss.
"I'll be right back. Wait for me," he whispers to her.
"I'll be right here," she says and watches as he goes to the Starbucks across the street.
I watch as she leans back against the tree sitting Indian style, smiling happily to herself, and rubbing her belly. She looks over at me and catches me watching her. I quickly look down at my journal and scribble something about being more discreet. I look back up, expecting to see her scanning the park; instead, she's still looking over at me, she flashes me one of her incredible smiles. I feel my skin flush, and I avert my gaze again. If she wasn't eight months pregnant, I'm sure she'd get up and call me on why I'm staring at her. I keep my head down until I hear his voice again. I look up at them and she's as happy as kid on Christmas.
"Thanks John," she says happily and reaches up for the frosty drink. I see the glint of her ring in the sunlight and wonder how long they've been married; she can't be any older than her early thirties.
He takes his place beside her. She watches as he enjoys his ice cream cone.
"What?" he asks and she eyes him curiously.
"Can I have some?" she asks sheepishly.
He turns to her, and I can't see his face, but I can hear the laughter in his voice. "Mon, ya wanted Starbucks, so I got ya Starbucks. Now ya want to deprive me of my ice cream?" He shakes his head. "Uh, uh. You have that to finish." He turns and leans against the tree again.
"John!"
He shakes his head silently and continues to enjoy his cone. I love watching these two. Monica rests her head on his shoulder and sips her drink. By the look on her face, I can tell she's scheming.
"I'll give you some of this," she says after a minute.
"Don't want that," he says, and I see him trying to suppress a smile.
He turns to her again and coats the end of her nose with the frozen treat. She squeals his name. "I thought you wanted some," he says innocently.
I look at Monica and try to gauge her reaction, she's not at all mad. He leans in and kisses the end of her nose, effectively removing the ice cream. They ultimately switch, with him giving her his ice cream, and taking her drink for himself. She rests her head on his shoulder again, and this time he combs his fingers through her chestnut hair.
Watching these two makes me wish I tried harder with my ex-girlfriend. I tear my eyes from my inspiration and look over my notes. I have enough for a pretty good start. In fact, I have enough to begin now.
I start the story of John and Monica. I smile to myself. I'm so engrossed in what I'm doing when I look up again I see my inspiration getting ready to leave. He stands and extends both hands to her. She takes them and he pulls her up.
"There ya go," he says quietly and closes his arms around her, giving her another kiss.
They part and he takes her hand, weaving his fingers with hers, and they walk away. She looks back one more time at me before she gets too far. This time I smile at her.
It seems that my writer's block goes into remission for a couple of years, and suddenly I have a relapse. So here I am, sitting in the park again on one of those perfect summer days. The last time I was here on a day like this, I was suffering severe writer's block.
That was until I saw them, Monica and John. Whenever I get like this I find myself wondering about them. I sometimes wonder if they had a girl like she thought, in my novel they had boy. Yes, I wrote about them, it was a pretty good book, it got some good reviews.
As I scan the park, I look for more inspiration. My usual bench by the willow tree is taken, so I've set up shop on a blanket in the grass. I continue to scan, then suddenly my eyes widen when I see them, just ten feet away from me. I smile widely like I'm seeing old friends for the first time in years.
Today they have someone new with them. Monica was right. Their daughter is the cutest little girl I've ever seen. She's gotta be almost two by now. She has her mother's dark hair. She toddles around them on wobbly legs.
Her mom and dad have the biggest and proudest smiles on their faces as they watch while their little girl's attempts to escape from their watchful eyes. She makes a run for it, but her father's faster. John grabs her little waist and brings her to him.
"Where do ya think you're goin' little miss?" The baby looks up at him with wide eyes and laughs.
He sits her down between them, and instantly she's on her feet again and she's off. This time dad misses, and baby makes her way to my blanket. Monica is up quick as shot and right on her tail.
The little one makes it over to me. She looks up at me with her father's blue eyes.
"Hi there sweetheart," I say to her and she smiles her mother's smile at me.
This little one's going to be a heart breaker. Just then her mother comes and scoops her up.
"I'm sorry I hope she didn't bother you." I smile as Monica speaks to me for the first time.
"No, not at all. She's adorable," I tell her.
"Thanks, an adorable handful," she says and laughs. She pauses and looks at me like she recognizes me from somewhere. "Well, I'm sorry to bother you," she says finally. "Say bye, bye to the nice man, Julia."
She does as she's told and waves her little hand at me, and I wave back. They named her Julia. John, Monica, and Julia. I don't even know their last name.
Mother and daughter head back to their blanket. This time they sit her down with some toys to distract her, and it works.
I watch as John watches his daughter and I see in his eyes that he'd sooner die than let anything happen to his little girl. He keeps a watchful eye over everything, from watching her, to watching their surroundings. I see him scan the park every few minutes. He must be a cop. He's the classic overprotective father. I smile inwardly. I pull out my journal and start taking some notes.
Monica relaxes, and rests her head in his lap. His fingers automatically find their way into her hair.
"Daddy, look!"
I look up when I hear Julia's demand.
"That's beautiful princess," he says to her building blocks creation.
She gets up and runs over to her parents and lands on Monica's chest.
"Oof! Julia, please be more careful, mommy's not a mattress," Monica says and John laughs.
Julia lies on her mother's chest, and Monica closes her arms around her little girl. "I love you mommy," Julia says, and gives her mother a kiss.
"I love you too, baby," she says as she fingers her daughter's hair.
John looks down at his family, and what I see in his eyes is immense love. He's very much in love with both of the women in his life.
They're in their own little world again where nothing, and no one else matters. I glance over at them again, watching them brought me so much contentment and warmth, I feel as though I know them, but I don't so I stop writing and close my journal. I've invaded their privacy long enough, it's time I shut the door. I stand, and pack up my things. I look at them one last time, and smile. I make my way to the other side of the park to find new inspiration.
End.