The Way I Feel About You

Chapter 16

"Where are we going again?"

"Music Shop," Edwin replied simply.

Saturday afternoon, the formal was that night.

Neither one of us decided to go so we thought it was for the better to spend our relationship doing something else. I loved hearing that word: relationship. It had a whole new meaning to it now considering the fact that it was on a whole new level. Even though our friendship was -- very well -- still there, so was a whole new growth.

Edwin Jameson, my boyfriend. Oh, yeah. I loved the sound of that one even more. He's my first boyfriend and everyday I felt as if I was glowing like crazy, unstoppable. The sky was bluer, the clouds fluffier, the sun and daisies a whole new hue of yellows and softness. Well, except for today... light pieces of white stuff slowly fell onto the wind shield. Was it snowing? It hasn't snowed in a very long time even though we lived in the very tip of Florida! Man, everything really was turning out right!

"What's up -- why are you smiling so much?" Edwin asked, interrupting my thoughts as usual. One hand stood there on the wheel while the other tightly grasped my left one, giving it a small squeeze.

"Oh, um... just you." I smiled, enjoying the new found confidence of being able to tell Edwin whatever was on my mind now. His smile matched mine as he rose my hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly. "Your lips are soft," I thought out loud while he kissed my hand again. "Okay, watch the road! I'd love to get to this place in one piece, thank you." Edwin rolled his eyes even though they never did leave the road. He was a safe driver and a great one at that.

A little after, we pulled into the parking lot of many connected one-story shops. A sign that shinned gold and red read "Shoppes of Asher Park". He turned a few times into the miniature city and soon pulled into a spot right in front of a shop. It sort of reminded me of vintage France or ancient Rome. Arrow's Music Shoppe was in cursive and in big, black letters way above the glass door. A small flame guitar was settled right beside it, adding that cool and awesome look to it.

"Here we are," Edwin got out of the car and walked around to open it for me and help me out. While his fingers were still intertwined in mine, we walked up to the door and went in.

A small bell chimed as we walked into the building, catching the attention of a middle-aged man -- perhaps in his late fifties, early sixties -- behind a counter that displayed many other music items such as guitar picks and packaged cleaning kits for instruments. The quiet jazz music of a saxophone and the soft beat of drums lingered in the background from a nearby stereo.

The middle-aged man turned around quickly and a smile lit up his face as he stole a glance at Edwin and then I. "Edwin, mio nipote!" the man practically shouted in his baritone voice. Taking a better look at the man, I noted his "pot-belly" that laid beneath his dark brown, short-sleeved button-down shirt. A dark gray fedora hat hid his tan, balding head, and a chevron mustache slept right below his nose. He seemed short in height, but he still seemed taller than me.

Dang it.

Edwin lifted his arm in a wave and greeted, "Zio Angelo!"

Zio? Was that his first name?

The man called Zio Angelo swiftly walked over to the both of us as I stood awkwardly. Working his way through tight squeezes of a pair of drums, amplifiers, and almost knocking over one of the many electric guitars, he finally made it to us. With the large grin still stuck to his face, "Zio Angelo" placed -- or should I say slapped -- both of his large, meaty hands on either sides of Edwin's face. "My boy, Look at you!" I couldn't tell where the accent came from, but it sure was heavy as I don't know what.