A Starry Night

I glanced around for the fourth time to make sure everything was in place. We had met through mutual friends at a local gala about five months ago. It had taken me months to get the courage to ask her out so everything needed to be perfect.

“Hello Wesley.”

The light bounciness of her voice reached my ears. I turned to see her wonderful smile lit up by the soft moon and hazy candlelight. Her simple white dress shone in the dimness.

“Hello Hope.” I returned the greeting, smiling back. My heart fluttered and refused to settle down. I held out my hand and she gently grasped mine. I guided her to the picnic blanket with a simple array of pillows, candles, and a wicker basket.

“Everything is wonderful.” She sat down and leaned back to gaze up at the stars.

“Well I figured having the stars out would sure be helpful.” I glanced at her face. She lay back on the picnic blanket and laughed.

“So you are using something dear to my heart in hope that you will be allowed access as well?”

“Well. . .when you put it that way it sounds rather devious doesn’t it?” I folded my hands together trying to hide them shaking.

“Perhaps,” she smiled, sitting up. “Or it is extremely romantic.” She placed her hand on top of mine.

“Let’s shoot for the second, shall we?” I replied. My erratic breathing was finally starting to slow down as I took in a deep breath of air.

“We’ll see.” The candlelight made her eyes seem to twinkle like the stars she so loved. “So what do we have to eat?”

“Ah, yes.” I started to unpack the picnic basket’s content. “Now imagine you are on a starlit rooftop in Italy. We have exotic cheeses, heavenly bread, and your favorite wine.”

“Merlot.”

I poured her a glass and the distinct smell of black cherry brought me back to the gala where I had first laid eyes on Hope. She had been radiant that night donning a slimming navy evening dress but I was so nervous about my presentation I had failed to initially notice her. It wasn’t until I thought back to it did I realize my blunder. Much like someone misses the stars above by staring at a dull streetlight instead, I had not been impressed enough to ask her out.

“Did you notice it from the first time we met?” She asked.

“Honestly, no.” I answered, “I went around smelling merlot bottles until I found the right one.”

Hope smelled the glass, her eyes closed as she took in the full aroma. “It is interesting how simple smells can be so intricately tied to a memory.”

I relaxed my shoulders. I hadn’t realized how tense my muscles were. “That is interesting.”

“Speaking of aromas, what is the sweet one that hits you as soon as you step onto the roof?”

“If I said it was me would you believe it?”

“Seems a little bit too sugary for you, don’t you think?” She half grinned over her glass, then took a delicate sip of the deep red contents.

I ran my hand through my hair and threw back my shoulders. “Nah.”

Hope giggled. “So what is it actually? The candles?”

“No it’s the moonflowers.” I nodded towards the potted plants along the edge of the roof.

“Moonflowers?”

“Yes, they bloom at night. Their white petals reflect the moon, hence the name.”

She got up and went over to one of the flowers, breathing in the heady scent.

“I love them.” She closed her eyes as she smelled it again.

“My grandma always had them around her house.” I said. “They make me think of peaceful moments. She used to take my brother and I outside after sunset to watch them bloom and to show us the constellations she knew.”

“Is that why you paint the night sky?” She asked.

“Yes.” I twirled my glass by the stem.

“Well I’m glad.” She replied as she sat back down. “I wouldn’t have noticed you otherwise.”

“You like my work?”

“Of course!” She smiled brightly. “It’s why I accepted this date.”

I laughed, “Well I guess you could say this date was written in the stars then.”

The conversation lagged for a few moments and I took in the evening slowly. The soft light from the stars and moon; the rich sugary scent of moonflowers paired with the merlot; Hope’s kind face and gentle smile. “That is this memory’s scent.” I spoke softly to no one in particular.

“I’m sorry?” Hope questioned my mind’s reflection.

“This moment’s scent is moonflowers and merlot. It’s as if we enhanced the first time we met.” I sighed, content to carry this in my heart for the rest of my life.

“I hope there are many more to come.” She raised her glass to mine and the clinking toasted the night.