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HANDS

I Only Have Eyes for You

By Margaret BrennanPublished 7 months ago 4 min read
3

HANDS

I Only Have Eyes For You

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Although I tried not to watch them, their every movement kept me mesmerized. Their body language, while subtle, drew you in.

As they walked towards the elevator, he gently placed his hand on the small of her back. To guide? To monitor her stability? To encourage her movement? To insist she move one way and not another?

When the sliding doors closed encasing us inside, I noticed he dropped his hand, but his arms were bent at the elbows, hands now folded over each other across his small round bubble of a belly. He wasn’t fat but had what we call the “middle age spread”.

There aren’t too many of us that are immune to that little bubble of fat.

She gently pushed her left hand through the crook of his right elbow and wrapped her arms around his.

Such a small gesture but more meaningful than if she flung her arms around his neck and gave him a hard lip-smacking kiss.

He looked are her and as he smiled, leaned in her direction, and kissed her cheek.

It was the sweetest moment I’d seen all day and while the day was still fairly young, the time was after one in the afternoon, so I’d had the opportunity to see the behavior of plenty of passengers.

We’d decided to take a cruise for our anniversary. We were celebrating our thirty-year mark as husband and wife. Wow! Thirty years! Huh! Thirty years, and my husband never acted romantic in public. Or private, for that matter. It just isn’t in his nature. In a way, I think I miss that but then again, how can you miss something you never had.

Does he love me? I know he does. Instinct, I guess. He does tell me now and then. He also does little things that most people might take for granted. So, yeah, he does love me. His is just not the romantic kind of love.

The couple that caught my attention seemed to be about the same ages that we were but were probably married much longer. This was the second marriage for my husband and me. That’s why I am going to leap at this and assume that Mr. & Mrs. Whoever were married longer. That’s just the impression I’d gotten.

My husband and I chatted away the time as we took in the sights from the upper deck. We oohed and ah-ed as my finger pressed the shutter button on my camera.

I glanced at Mr. & Mrs. Whoever. They walked slowly around the deck, just being happy to be together and not seeming to care about the views I thought were captivating.

My husband walked to the coffee station and brought back two cups which he placed on the high-top table closest to where we were standing.

Click-click of my shutter. My husband pointed to a nearby cliff. “Look, hon, what a sight! You need to take that shot!” I did and he was right. The scene was awesome.

Mr. & Mrs. Whoever never seemed to notice. They sat quietly on a nearby bench sipping what appeared to be hot cocoa with a small dot of whipped cream on top. Mr. Whoever leaned towards his wife and with his thumb, wiped away the bit of the cream that ended up on the tip of her nose. She giggled as he licked his thumb.

She giggled! She actually giggled – like a young girl on her first date might.

He smiled but neither said a word until their hot beverages were consumed. He tossed their empty cups in the nearest trash can, then walked back to Mrs. Whoever and held out his hand.

“Let’s find a more comfortable spot to sit. Somewhere where there might be a bit of shade.”

As she took his hand, she added, “With a splash of sun, don’t you think?”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Yes, my love. A splash of sun.”

Trying hard not to be conspicuous, I watched them out the corner of my eye to see where they were going and saw they’d found a spot towards the back of the boat. I meandered in that direction but didn’t get too close. I had no intention of being intrusive, yet this couple intrigued me.

They sat, well, actually, they reclined but not shoulder to shoulder. They sat in opposite directions. At first, I wondered why. The lounge chairs had no arms to interfere with their closeness so why not sit where he could put his arm around her?

Then I saw what he had in mind.

My heart swelled as I sighed. I raised my camera with one focus in mind.

No, I didn’t take the shot with their faces. I thought that would be entirely too rude and an unwelcome invasion of their privacy. Instead, I lowered the camera just a bit and when I had the focus I wanted, I pressed the shutter button.

At that moment, I knew, without a doubt, that their hands told their entire story.

Without hearing more than a word here and there, it’s a story I will never forget.

travel
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About the Creator

Margaret Brennan

I am a 76 year old grandmother who loves to write, fish, and grab my camera to capture the beautiful scenery I see around me.

My husband and I found our paradise in Punta Gorda Florida where the weather always keeps us guessing.

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Comments (2)

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  • Shirley Belk7 months ago

    I also love to people watch. Not much sexier than holding hands...captured it!

  • Babs Iverson7 months ago

    Wonderful travel story and observations!!! Loved it!!!

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