The Candle
By millimop
- 1249 reads
Donna Walker, my best friend since high school, and her husband, Mark, had the most prestigious candle selling business on 69th Street, the shopping district of Upper Darby. The designs from DonMarks Candles rivaled some of the largest candle-making businesses in the world and profits from sells soared into the thousands every month. She and Mark made the candles in the basement of their large Victorian home, which sat on a long tree-lined street and had been in Donna’s family for generations. Her family had a long history in making and selling candles, and it was thought there was a secret ingredient to their huge success.
When I occasionally visited the candle shop, I always wondered about that secret and asked her on many occasions to share it with me, but she wouldn’t. Instead, she’d chuckle then survey the room as if she were making sure we were alone before leaning close to me and whispering, “Missy, I’ll never tell the ancient secrets of the Gods. When it’s time for you to know, you will.” I would playfully roll my brown eyes, and she would laugh heartily sashaying away as her long black tresses swung in tune with her smooth stride. Though her eyes were filled with mirth, there was a knowing within those dark pools that admonished me to heed her words. I laughed also but usually ignored her and went about my visit of the shop viewing one candle or breathing in the fragrance of another.
Candles surrounded every area of the shop. The smell of jasmine lingered in one corner, while the pungent scent of plumeria hung in the air of another. Surprisingly the scents did not clash, but existed in perfect harmony giving off a heavenly aroma that coaxed customers to browse the candle selection for hours before making a final purchase. Often I would hear comments like, “oh, it smells so good in here,” or “what is that delicious smell?” The most common, “I could linger in here forever,” was not only said but acted out as well. I could never figure it out, but found myself also not wanting to leave but needing to surround myself with the beautiful fragrances that filled the quaint little shop.
On one occasion I stopped by the candle shop to meet up with Donna and Mark. We planned to go out for dinner and drinks and enjoy a beautiful evening. While I waited for them to finish last minute business, I browsed the store as usual. Each candle I touched made me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside – almost giddy. I chuckled to myself when I picked up a candle designed as a silly clown with a floppy hat. It smelled of peppermint and another fragrance I could not quite catch. I breathed in deeply and swayed to a tune only I could hear.
The bell on the door sounded signaling entrance into the shop. Coming to myself, I looked over my shoulder embarrassed at my reaction to a mere candle. I put it down quickly and moved to another section of the store. Entering the shop were two older women - one short and pleasingly plump with smooth dark skin and the other fair skinned, tall and slim with piercing blue eyes. They were regular customers, and always brought three or four candles at a time. Smiling at me each one waved then chatted on as they browsed the new candle section I had just vacated and ooo’d and ahhh’d over each new design.
Snatches of their conversation could be heard where I stood, and I could not help but listen. The taller one said, “Girl, this candle,” pointing to one designed as a carnation, “is something else. I was so filled I rushed home and hugged my husband, the kids and even the mean neighbor across the street from me. She actually hugged me back. Are these candles magic or something?” The other replied, “I don’t know, but after buying the one shaped like red lips last week, my husband and I have had a hot time almost every night since.” The ladies giggled and moved on to the other side of the shop.
I was confused. What was it about these candles? While pondering that question, I picked up a candle with the shape and scent of a chocolate chip cookie and started to feel the pangs of hunger. A glint hit the corner of my eye. I turned in the direction of the light and frowned in confusion. Seeing nothing, I continued browsing. It caught me again, this time remaining in full view. The light came from a small rectangular candle almost hidden behind a larger one. “How…?” Before I could finish my question, it beckoned to me in a whisper. Not out loud, but in my mind. I could not resist it, and I found myself gravitating toward it as if floating on air.
I touched it – tentatively and felt a small yet powerful jolt surge through my body. It wasn’t painful only soothing and warm. “What is this?” I asked myself. It filled me with a longing so strong I couldn’t resist it. The warm vanilla fragrance surrounded me and seemed to flow through me. “Oh my goodness,” I exclaimed but accepted the warmth that continued to travel through every core of my body. I was giddy with delight and almost wanted to cry from the intense emotion. Coming to myself, I looked behind me to see if anyone else saw what I experienced and noticed Donna and Mark looking at me. They smiled in unison and knowing and walked together hand in hand to the back of the shop.
Caressing the small rectangular shape through my fingers, I understood what the candle whispered to me. At that moment I knew the secret that lay at the foundation of the success of my friend’s candle business.
As I pondered these thoughts, the shop door chimed the entrance of a customer. I turned immediately and gasped. There he was. The most beautiful man I had ever seen in my life. Tall with mocha-colored skin, dark wavy hair and piecing light brown eyes, this mystery man pulled at me. He smiled directly at me then proceeded to browse the candle selection.
I stood motionless as I gazed at him. “What is this?” I questioned in a whisper. He turned toward me, “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
“No, no, I…” stammering I let the words drop. I couldn’t speak any longer. Puzzled, he gravitated toward me then stopped. His faced mirrored the same thought about me and he drew closer toward. In impulse he touched the candle I was holding and both of us jumped back feeling the strong current flash through our bodies almost dropping the candle. We caught it at the same time and stared into each other’s eyes - speaking to each other without words, but with our hearts.
Now I was sure I knew the secret. It was simply, LOVE.
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