Lifetime

California Love

On our route between Arizona and California, we stopped near Lake Mead, camping for a few nights. Seokjin made quick friends with a small family who were taking some time to live on the road, traveling by RV with their three children. I could hear Seokjin's exclamations of joy when he got his first catch of the trip, followed by the children squealing around him when the striped bass wiggled in resistance against his line.

I lost the page of my book with the speed of reaching for my camera, following their noise to the edge of the lake where Seokjin and the family's eldest daughter held up the catch together. He claimed it as their shared accomplishment on account of her selecting the fishing spot.

Both of their mouths hung open in the photo, mid-smile and with a backsplash of bright blue from the sky and water. Their expressions were one of pride, even more showing in the children's fathers' eyes as he observed his first born.

Though Seokjin always counted himself as someone who didn't have many friends or interpersonal connections, people warmed to him so easily.

There was Johnny, the fishing father in Boulder City. In Las Vegas we encountered Brent, an immensely wealthy stock trader that appeared to have a gambling problem. He left the roulette table red-faced and cursing the first night of our stay, but returned with even fiercer hopes of winning the following evening. Seokjin and I understood the high that came with winning after a long streak of success playing Texas hold 'em, but walked away once our wins were lost so that we zeroed out.

"Let's stop there." Seokjin's suggestion brought me from where I'd been texting Faye an update about our latest roadtrip shenanigans. She responded promptly with sixteen messages that painted her every thought.

He nodded in the direction of a billboard up ahead. Vibrant wings covered the surface of the advertisement with bold print, an invitation to visit the butterfly farm off an upcoming exit.

We were already off course, our next destination being Los Angeles. He'd made a claim for spontaneity, drifting further South to ride along the coast. The sparkling sapphire water held most of my attention, disappearing and reappearing from behind turf. He'd swore we'd make it to LA by the end of the night, putting to bed my initial worry that he wouldn't have the full twenty-four hours of rest I was requiring before his next round of treatment.

With my approval we continued our small detour, veering off the highway into the mainland of the small beach town. Sun-kissed skin shown with sweat beading on every person jogging along the sidewalk, lined with beach houses straight out of a Nicholas Sparks novel.

Small strips of businesses passed by with soft, calm hues that painted the outside of every building. I let my fingers move past the open window to feel the harsher breeze at each turn.

Metal fixtures in the shape of butterfly wings greeted us, opening upon the car's approach. Colored shadows shown through the window to my bare thighs as we passed through, the air heady with floral notes from the greenhouse.

Seokjin pulled off his oversized aviator sunglasses while I made an attempt to tame my wispy hair, strands blown in every direction. I opted for tugging the baseball cap he kept in the dash over it, the pair of us the visualization of our constant time on the road with wrinkled tees and slip-on shoes.

The enthusiastic staff remained equally accommodating as before and after Seokjin's donation to the conservatory, leading us into the main greenhouse with tidbits of information about the monarchs we'd encounter.

Left alone to explore, we strolled through greenery peppered with freshly bloomed buds. Butterflies in shades light and dark fluttered among the branches, taking landings on petals and leaves.