A marriage is like a rose; a romantic keepsake having the combination of thorns and petals. The red hue of the petals symbolizes love, and passion and is soft to touch. The thorns that lay on the stem, however, represent adversity and sacrifice.
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"He once jumped off of the fence and fell straight on his butt, but played it cool in front of his friends because Alisa was watching him. When he got back home, me and grandma had to rush to the doctor with his swollen ass."
She let out a hearty laugh, her stomach aching at the mere thought of what Mrs. Walker had just narrated.
They had completed their dinner and were now sitting before the fireplace in the living room, having a light conversation. Beside Melina lay seated Zayden's grandmother and diagonal to her was Mrs. Walker who had her legs crossed on the couch.
The warm room was only lit by the light coming from the flame and how beautifully its hue fell upon their faces.
The old woman had rested her hands on her walking stick, looking front.
She warmly smiled, "That boy is my first grandkid and my favorite one."
If she had noticed one thing common to the people in this household, it'd be eloquence. Again, it could be fake but nevertheless.
"Does he know that?" Melina asked.
She slowly tilted her head to listen to her better, and she found herself repeating the question.
Her wrinkled eyes widened, "I'm sure he does! Otherwise, all those chocolates I got him would go in vain."
She chuckled at her words, a little confused about what she meant.
As if sensing her doubt, Mrs. Walker added, "He'd get the most chocolates among all his cousins during any festive season. Zara was so envious of him."
Zayden had a sister who was a few years younger than him, but older than Melina. She was the only person in his family she hadn't seen yet and her excitement only grew at the thought of having a future sister-in-law.
"Oh, then he's sure pampered."
Mrs. Walker's eyebrows arched up and she grinned, "I'm sure you're too, Melina. You're mama's precious baby, aren't you?"
A tinge of red coated her face and she wasn't sure if it was the heat from outside or inside.
She muttered, "Y-Yeah. ."
Silence prevailed as they soaked in the soothing sound of the crackling fire. As she stared into the brilliant flame, she wondered what were Zayden and her mother doing in the backyard.
"My last wish is to see him getting married."
The older woman's words caught her attention and just like a stone thrown into a river, it sunk deeper into her head.
The familiar words of her grandmother rang inside her head- "If I live long enough, I'd love to see it. My beautiful granddaughter in a wedding dress with her husband will make this old woman happy."
