The Inside Diaries

Paisagem

She'd spent the rest of the afternoon at Fernando's family property "Paisagem," enjoying the scenic ocean view from the uppermost rocky hillside, laden with rows of aloe vera, scraggly cacti, followed by olive groves aplenty.

Who knew a repairman had such way with land?

Melanija smiled, reminiscing as she sat in the airy oceanfront gazebo, nursing her iced berry seltzer. After getting the lay of the land so to speak, she and he had ambled over to the swimming pool, a glassy aqua. Studying it and the surrounding architecture—mauve and tan cobblestone—she couldn't help but blurt out despite herself—

"You must be rich—" She stopped herself, covering her mouth in horror. Much to her surprise, Fernando merely laughed. "Sorry, I only meant—it's not everyday that you see such—I—uh—"

"It's ok," he spoke as they made their way to two reclining lawn chairs, which looked both comfortable and expensive. "People usually have questions. Or remarks. It all began with the family ancestor. Namely, Geronimo."

"Lots of long masculine names," Melanija found herself saying as they both sat atop a recliner, though facing each other. "Is that, um, a thing?"

"In my family it is. See, Geronimo was an orphan. No family, none to speak of. He had an apprenticeship, took on multiple trades, and grew his wealth bit by bit, acquiring land all the while. The result, of course, being—this—" he gestured outward toward the bountiful acreage.

"He sounds very hard-working."

"He definitely was. And each generation after tills the soil along with whatever trade they undertake. Plus the whole 'long name' thing. My father was adopted, which is why he's the only blond in a sea of raven-haireds."

"Huh." Interesting. "And you chose architectural repairs—uh, flooring?" To Melanija, this particular industry seemed not at all alluring. Or anything other than...mundane. Mundane and...monotonous.

"Yeah," he answered casually, though there was a certain impenetrable steeliness to his gaze. "Everyone owns houses these days, and there's constant demand for flooring—"

"Is there?" Melanija asked, as they found themselves drawing closer despite her better judgment.

"Well. Depending on the season," he clarified, his hand drawing closer to her own until they were at once, interlinked.

"Now?" Melanija murmured, breathlessly so. "And now?"

"We have all the time in the world..." and with that, the pair shared a kiss.

A splash of condensation from her seltzer glass drew her back to the present as the sun began to set. This island, she was beginning to realize, was working its magic. Not just on her characters, but on her as well.

Would she—could she give in?

Only time would tell.