by Rhonda Piraino

Created on: June 23, 2008

Reflections: Summer

There is something magical, even ethereal, about the sweet, heady scent that lingers on a summer night and brings me back to my first love affair. Even now, 25 years later, I can step outside and take a deep breath in. My eyes close and I sit to steady myself. I realize I'm experiencing comfort scents - the grass is freshly cut, the lavendar and honeysuckle grow wild along the fence - and a little smile forms on my lips and in my eyes.

Suddenly I'm a teenager again. My senses are heightened. I can almost hear a crackle in the air from pure electricity.

I'm 14 when Nick's family moves in down the street. I am a golden child, innocent and naive, but I'm aware I feel different. The year between 13 and 14 seem like 5 years.

Nick is older - 16. He's Italian and he's a "Yankee", so he stands out in our sleepy little Texas neighborhood. He has a motorcycle. All the ingredients for an interesting rebellion.

We have an instant connection. It's hard not to stare at his tousled black hair, his steely blue eyes. Of course I'm attracted to him - I'm a "good girl", the perfect daughter.

It's appropriately one of Texas' hottest summers of record, and we spend every day together, walking, talking, swimming. He steals me away on his motorcycle until my parents discover me riding behind him, racing through the sleepy streets of the neighborhood. We share a love of Led Zeppelin and declare Thank You "our song".

Every night at sunset we claim our spots on the front porch of my house. We look at the stars. We look at each other in complete infatuation. He tells me how much he loves me. I'm sinking, melting into his arms, but I don't even notice the temperature is still in the 90's in the moonlight. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be drunk.

We stay here each evening until my parents turn on the porch light to signal the end of our night. So we say goodbye, planning the next day's adventure, lingering as long as we can to take in every drop. I don't want to miss anything.

So tonight I sit on my own porch in my grown-up world. I'm a 40-year-old wife and mother with a blessed life, my family tucked safely into their beds. A warm breeze slips over my garden and I instinctively close my eyes. Something seems so familiar, so risky and so safe. Nick was my first love, truly an opposite attraction, destined and doomed. I close my eyes and remember.

And smile.

Learn more about this author, Rhonda Piraino.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.