With the way the sun was shining combined with the cool breeze coming across the back of the restaurant it was easy to forget you were 800 miles inland. Still though if you closed your eyes it wouldn’t have been too hard to smell the salt coming off the ocean. There were a few tables outside scattered about in no particular order. Red umbrellas opened up to give refugee from the glaring orb perched just above the horizon. Who knows if it was because the band wasn’t too well known or if there was some other main attraction drawing the usual crowd away from the normally busy hot spot. Whatever the reason we were glad it was going to be a private concert. With two kids in tow, each of us agreed that the fewer people around the better when it came to eating out.
After the pasta came amidst the swells of the guitar, nothing was left of the meal except a few scraps of garlic bread and hints of marinara. Empty glasses all pushed to the center of the table in hopes little hands wouldn’t be able to reach them. With a whisper and a dash the scene transformed from an evening out with friends into a slow motion dance recital. With her pastel dress twirling around her, time seemed to stop for everyone as we watched the little girl next to the stage sway to the music. With a band in her hair to keep the brown locks back and a smile created for her father, the glow from Princess Zoë was enough to make the sun jealous and decide to turn in for the night.