Copse and Spinney

“When is ‘Chisel-jaw’ coming to visit?” my dad asked teasingly.

Sometimes, he’d just say out of nowhere, “Milk-white,” referencing my boyfriend’s amazing teeth. After all, his dad was a dentist, and Kent’s smile was so noticeably beautiful.

Not to mention, he had naturally wavy brown locks that changed to sandy-golden highlights in the summer. Being a lifeguard, he had the fitting persona and look—olive skin and deep, turquoise-blue eyes that offset his ‘milk-white’ smile.

Memories… ahh.

He would call me on the landline just to say, “I love you.”

“How are you, Sweet Thang?” he’d start, feeling playful. Most of the time, he just called me “Sweetheart.”

And his voice—that voice—always gave a little raspy crackle on the up-syllable of “heart.”

_{(The rasp of his voice happened because of the accident he had been in several months earlier that affected his air passage way and permanently changed the sound of his voice. To me his voice just sounded blissful! )}

Kent had one of the only cars I had ever known that actually talked to you. This instigated a recurring argument with the automated voice.

“A door is ajar.”

“No, I told you!” Kent argued back. “A jar is a jar! A door is a door!”

“He never listens to me,” I joked.

“Sounds like a personal problem to me,” I said, teasingly using one of his favorite phrases back at him.

Who, way back then, had even heard of the five love languages? But ours was quality time. We spent as much time together as we could despite going to different schools…every week looking forward to another weekend together.

I don’t think I had ever gone star gazing before I met Kent. He enjoyed surprising me. We watched the sunset on top of the huge hill above our property.  It had a view that went on for miles of the valley below.

After the sun went down, we gazed at the stars while lying on a quilt across the hood of the convertible. There we talked until we nearly fell asleep in each other’s arms and dreamed.

Kent was always a romantic at heart. Often, we drove through the countryside playing music full blast, the convertible top down and our hair blowing in the wind.

It was spring. As we sped through the back roads, surrounded by delicious fields of yellow flowers, a song came on the radio. Dan Hill’s melodious voice came booming through the speakers:

“I never thought that I could love someone as much as I love you.”

Just before he sang, “Girl, your smile lights up the sky,” Kent’s eyes twinkled eagerly as he said, “Listen to this part! It always makes me think of you!”

The yellow flowers became a blur, and all I could see was his gorgeous “milk-white” smile.