Out front, I threw my hair into a quick ponytail and led Sofie toward the park. I pulled out my phone twice on the way, only to put it away again. Finally, I took it out a last time and read a text message David had sent me the day before.
David:Meet us in the park tomorrow.
I hadn’t responded. Now, it was tomorrow, and David and I would be in the same area. I was just walking, wasn’t I? Company would be nice, which was the reason I’d invited Bill. Who’d turned me down.
I bit my nail nervously as I stared at the text. Finally, I replied.
Me:How was the zoo?
As soon as I’d sent it, I cringed. My nerves flared, my stomach knotted. I pulled on my earlobe until he responded.
David:Chaotic. Are you in LP?
Me:Yes.
David:Come to the Lily Pool, Fullerton entrance. I’m headed there now.
I looked down at the dog. “Don’t judge me,” I told her.
At the gates to Alfred Caldwell Lily Pool, we waited. My heart rate accelerated when I saw David in the distance. He spotted me, his stride quickening. His muscles stretched a short-sleeved black t-shirt. I let my gaze wander down his basketball shorts to his long legs. They were brawny, tan like his arms, and I guessed it was because when he flipped houses,heflipped them. As in, him, hammering, lifting, moving, ripping, tearing, sweating . . .
“Hey,” he said, a smile spreading across his handsome face.
I squinted up and easily returned his smile. “Hey.”
“Who’s this?”
“Sofie from the shelter.”
“Hello, Sofie from the shelter.” He crouched and scratched behind her ears. “Our dog Canyon’s with us. They can play.”
“She’s sort of old.”
“Canyon is, too. Have you been inside?” he asked, motioning to the Lily Pool.
“No.” I looked at him sheepishly and admitted, “I’ve only walked by.”
He took the leash from me and looped it around the nearest tree. “Come inside with me. Sofie’ll be fine here for a minute.” With a hand on my shoulder, he guided me through the gates and into a peaceful, rustic oasis. A sprawling pond was dotted with floating lily pads and bordered by large stone slabs.
“Wow,” I muttered. “Are we still in Chicago?”
He grinned. “I come here when I need to cool off.”
The leaves rustled with a breeze, carrying the soothing water lily scent under our noses. I inhaled a breath of fresh air as wind danced in my hair. I could feel the city fading in the background as we stood together, soaking in the serenity.
“This reminds me of the house,” I mused aloud, then clarified, “The Oak Park house.”
“This park was designed in the prairie style, just like the house—notice the same horizontal lines. Alfred Caldwell was an architectural landscaper influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright. They both loved nature and knew how to incorporate it to make the space come alive.”
Just like in the house, the way he spoke arrested me. His love for architecture was inspiring, and I listened avidly as he recited a quick history of the Lily Pond’s recent restoration.
“A lush, green sanctuary modeled after this would be perfect in the backyard,” he said as we exited.
“I told you we didn’t get the house, though.”
“Right. It would be perfect—for someone else.”
I untied Sofie, and we took off along the path. David dropped facts here and there about the park.
