Roses in Vancouver

Word Count: 855

Dear Shelley,


I decided to play hooky today in Vancouver. Well, not really. I had a layover on my way to Los Angeles and the plane we were suppose to take to LA had electrical problems. Go figure. The next flight out was the following morning so the airline booked us all rooms at the local hotel. I just hope my advertising agency doesn’t fire me because I missed the meeting with the bigwigs at ABC. I tell you, my job can really wear me out! This was actually a nice break from the hetic reality of my life. Anyway, I checked in, got comfortable with my remote, and then I heard a knock on the door.

There were two guys who were also in the same predicament I was in. In fact, the three of us sat in the same row on the airplane. They wanted to get a bunch of people together to go out on the town. Jean-Paul was tall, dark, and gorgeous. Thick wavy hair. I was in lust. Derrick wasn’t quite as tall or handsome, but he had ice blue eyes that spoke of playfulness. Despite my better judgment, I grabbed my purse and we were off.

To our disappointment, it was only us. We flagged a cab outside of the hotel and asked the taxi driver to take us to a really cool tourist spot. He laughed and took us a place called Stanley Park.

Jean-Paul, the tall, dark, handsome guy asked the driver what was so special about a park. We had no idea we were in for an earful. “Stanley Park is just the oldest, prettiest park in Vancouver.” Derrick scoffed. “You see one park, you see ‘em all.” “Not Stanley Park,” said the driver. I could hear the fondness in his voice. This park was special to him and I wondered why.

He dropped us off near the recreational facilities and one of the first things that impressed us was how huge the park was. Even Derrick seemed a little in awe. I found a small vending cart near the tennis courts and bought a small brochure about the park. I know – what a touristy thing to do. You can tease me later.

Jean-Paul bought us apples from the same vendor and we began slowly strolling around the area. I was surprised with some of the basic knowledge the brochure offered. The park was huge – over 1,000 acres. We discovered tennis courts, a children’s farm, and a miniature railway. Derrick teased us about the animal smells coming from the farm. The railroad was cool. I loved seeing the kid’s faces as the train took them for a ride through the park. One little blonde girl’s smile really stuck with me. She made me feel like this was a dream come true for her.

I can’t tell you all that we discovered. There were beaches (3 sides of Vancouver border the ocean) a water park, and a heated ocean side swimming pool! When we left the rec area, we found a nature walking path. Jean-Paul pointed out several different varieties of trees, cedars, hemlocks, and fir trees. I can still smell a hint of pine in the air as I write this letter.

Jean-Paul and Derrick told me a little about themselves. Derrick was a California boy, born and breed, who lived to surf. He was visiting family in Alaska and was returning to his job as a stunt man in LA. Jean-Paul was a consultant traveling to LA on business from Toronto and I discovered we worked in the same line of business. He was twenty-nine and single. I almost died and went to Heaven! After he told me that, I put that charming Southern smile to good use!

In the heart of the park, the sweet smell of roses caught our attention. We found a beautiful rose garden. I can’t begin to describe these exotic flowers – red, white, yellow, pink with fragrances so wonderful I thought this must have been what the Garden of Eden smelled like. Jean-Paul playfully got down on a knee, pretending to be a prince from a far off principality (Toronto!) and asked me to marry him. I know he was pretending, flirting, but my heart fluttered all the same. I broke his heart by saying ‘no’. Then with all seriousness, he promised to ask me for real when the time was right in this very rose garden. Derrick rolled his eyes at us and announced he was hungry. Talk about bad timing!

We ate at one of the restaurants inside the park. As the sun began to set, we called for another taxi and got the same driver! When Derrick teased Jean-Paul and I, the driver winked at us and said, “That’s where I asked my wife to marry me.”

Jean-Paul and I have a date when we get to LA. I don’t know what will happen, but I’ll never forget that beautiful rose garden in Stanley Park. Well, it’s getting late and I’m burning the midnight oil writing this. Enclosed are a couple of postcards.

Love,
Your Sis,
Steph