Free The Book of Eleanor by Nat Burns Page B

pizza and about today. Hello. Welcome to South Padre. I’m Angie June.”
    I was held static by the tractor beam of her smile. It did exist—that legend of the all-American Beauty. With wisps of pale blond hair framing her face, sparkling blue eyes, and a huge smile filled with white teeth, Angie certainly fit the stereotype. On autopilot, I extended my hand even though my brain was strangely disconnected. I was totally distracted by her wholesome good looks.
    “My name is Grey,” I stuttered. “Grey Graham.”
    “That’s an interesting name,” she said, cocking her head to one side.
    I blinked, trying to regroup my senses so I could converse intelligently. “It’s an old family name on my mother’s side. I guess it could have been worse.”
    She watched me strangely. I suddenly worried that I’d said something totally different than what I’d meant to say. Just as I opened my mouth to try to salvage the situation, a shout carried to us. We turned together. I saw a short, dark-skinned Hispanic man with a thick graying mustache and a balding head rushing toward us across the sand.
    “Oh, no,” Angie said, cupping a hand above her eyes to shield out the sun. “That’s Father Sephria. I forgot all about him.” She turned back to me. “We were supposed to be on our way to meet him when Emilio waylaid you.”
    I nodded stupidly, only pretending to know what was going on. Angie moved to meet him, followed by the small swarm of young people. One young woman, her dark hair shielding most of her face, lingered behind, peering intently at me through her veil of hair. I smiled at her and she tucked her head shyly and moved after them, her loose shorts flapping in the wind.
    I faced a real dilemma. Should I move on, or wait? Angie hadn’t said goodbye, but certainly she had more important things to do than talk with me. I cast one more glance her way, lingering on her sturdy, upright form. She was laughing with the priest as the youths milled about them. She was the picture of the perfect woman.
    I dropped my gaze and moved on, carefully skirting the surf rolled jellyfish. I tried to plan, to map out my future, but thoughts of Angie’s bright blue eyes kept interfering. I smiled to myself. I was attracted to her. It felt nice, but frightening. I wasn’t ready. Guilt nagged at me. What right did I have to be attracted to such a vibrant, alive creature when my Mary was...I stopped and hot tears formed. I turned toward the ocean and allowed the wind to snatch them away.
    “Do you like beer?”
    I whirled around. Angie stood next to me, her approach masked by the roar of the breakers. She too faced the water, studying it with unusual intensity.
    “Where are the kids?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
    “I turned them over to the padre. He’s taking the van back to the center.”
    “The center?”
    “Walk with me and I’ll tell you all about it. Do you like shrimp?”
    I laughed at her popcorn approach to conversation. “Yes, I like shrimp and beer. Why do you ask?”
    “Because,” she began as she gently steered me along the beach. “I’m hungry and my bud Couscous has some of the best beer battered shrimp you’ll ever eat. And his beer is just the way you want it here on the island—frigid.” She laughed.
    The sound comforted me like a warm bubble bath. I wanted to hesitate, wanted to run from this new involvement when I simply wanted to be alone in my grief, but I couldn’t. Angie was enchanting and irresistible, like some force of nature. Saying no to her would be like trying to prevent the burgeoning of spring.

Angie
     
    I felt Grey’s uncertainty. My memory recalled the vivid image of her sadness. Shaking her hand and opening myself allowed me to know how much she loved being here on South Padre. I also saw confusion and guilt, emotions that perplexed me. She was certainly a complicated woman.
    I watched her out of the corner of my eye as I helped Father Sephria load the kids into the van. Delicia