Farewell Denver

A gleam of light filters into the drafty room. Scarlett opens her eyes, her energy renewed; a lightness sweeps over her mind and body. She gasps.

I didn’t get his number.

Scarlett starts her shower; the hot water pours onto her skin and hair like heavy rain. She closes her eyes and pictures herself in a waterfall at an exotic rainforest. Birds chirp and she is the only one there. Scarlett envisions water dripping onto flower petals on the rocky wall behind her. Leaves flow in a stream, at the end of the waterfall, away from the rushing water. Just then a loud knock on her door interrupts. “Housekeeping!”

Scarlett hops out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her, she steps out of the bathroom and shouts out, “Come back later!” She notices the do not disturb sign on the inside knob.

Housekeeping tells her, “It’s about an hour until check out.”

Scarlett replies with, “ok thank you!”

She rushes to finish her shower. In the main room, Scarlett dries off, squeezing the towel against her drenched strands. She glances at her itinerary showing her flight home today. Then slips into leggings and a breathable shirt which falls below her bum. Scarlett laces her blue and pink tennis shoes and collects her things. She skims the weather app; hmmm, in the eighties today which is pretty warm. Just like Texas.

A week in Colorado exploring vibrant sceneries surrounded by cool refreshing air; day and night, remains in Scarlett’s memory. A desirable memory. Her laptop beholds a gallery of early autumn scenes. Mountain views and leaves of gold, crimson and rust. A smile tugs at her lips. She clinches her leather jacket, a shade of rich brown; keeping it accessible for her flight. The elevator chimes and the doors open, Scarlett steps in. The metal box rumbles as it descends. A subtle jolt causes her stomach to drop as the doors open to the lobby. She recognizes a man crossing the marble flooring.

He's tall enough for me to wear heels.

His red beard adds warmth, to a cool attire— a western style, sky blue shirt and indigo jeans contrast against a green wall. The colors pop. He looks vibrant. He adjusts his stance, his boots scuff the floor, as he leans against the wall. His red hair peeks below his beige western hat. A charming smile spreads across his face, once he notices Scarlett. He admires her physique, exhibiting intense eyes—green amber and whiskey. He looks delicious and typical of Scarlett’s type. Oliver greets her, “Howdy Scarlett, are you leaving today?”

“Hey there, handsome fella. Yes, I am going back home today, and you?” Scarlett replies. As they hug, Oliver leans towards her face to give a quick peck on her lips. Their lips collide, Scarlett soaks in his energy. His aura, its drinkable. Breathable. Compatible. Sparks. A calmness settles in over her. He kisses deeper and longer. His warmth envelops her for a moment, awakening desire deep within, that's been tucked and hidden away, like a dusty trunk. He tastes her flavored lip gloss as it rubs off on his lips. fruity like strawberry. He breathes her in, a floral scent arouses him, his heart thuds in his broad chest. The kiss subsides, they inch back, giving space between them.

Oliver looks at her, his spotless teeth show, as his lips curl into a grin. “No, I’ll be here until next week sometime.” He breathes in deeply, calming his nerves. “Can I get your number so we can keep in touch?” Scarlett looks around to make sure no one else can hear her. Her cheeks flush, “Sure, can I see your phone. I will put it in.” Oliver hands her his hands. She types in her number then texts herself to save his contact info.

Scarlett says, “Well, I need to get on my way.” She begins to grab her suitcase. Oliver reaches for it, rumbling in a deep southern twang, “Let me walk you out.”

The quiet rattle of the suitcase wheels rolling against the pavement of the parking lot, mix with the heels of Oliver's boots. A light stomp while Scarlett's tennis shoes utter near silence, as they navigate to her rental car. The newly acquainted traveling Texans, exchange smiles while sunglasses hide their eyes. They approach her rental car. She pops the trunk and he places her suitcase gently inside. Scarlett unloads her other bags on the passenger side along with her jacket. She rises to face Oliver. He wraps his arms around her waist, his lips crash on hers massaging her tongue with his. He steps back, his hands caressing hers. “I’m glad we met.”

Scarlett smiles replies, “I am too, hope to see you again.” He opens her door, demonstrating patience as she gets in, then closes it. She exits the parking lot as Oliver struts back in the hotel. She admires his canter; an attractive cowboy from Texas has grazed Scarlett's vacation. At the airport, Scarlett finds a pumpkin spice latte and a bottle of water to wash down egg whites, toast, and fruit. A smile plays on her lips while scrolling the news feed on her phone. Nothing new to worry about. She messages a few friends and family, informing them of her travel plans: visiting Dallas then heading home to her RV in the Texas Hill Country, near the cowboy capital. Scarlett snags a window seat as usual, to watch the sky scape, and wait for the moment when the plane hovers over the city, before landing.