wondering if I could ask you a question, if you have a moment?”
He merely nodded, imploring me to continue speaking. I still sensed I was interrupting him in some huge way.
My nervousness caused me to speak a little quickly. “Well, you see, I volunteer for Habitat for Humanity and I was helping to clean up this area of the beach today. Anyway, I came across this line of soda cans. It was the weirdest thing. There were a bazillion of them and they eventually led me to this pier. . .” I took a breath to calm my anxiety and waited for his confusion to take root. Thankfully, he just waited for me to finish speaking. “Well, I was wondering if, since you’ve been out here working on your boat and all, if you happened to catch sight of the person who is leaving all these cans behind?”
His face was without expression. He was proving to be exactly like the Grecian sculptures-carved out of stone.
Finally, he said, “Sorry. Didn’t see anyone.”
I waited for him to say more, feeling like an idiot. No other words escaped his perfect lips.
“Oh. . .really? Nobody at all?”
It bothered me more than a little that he didn’t seem as freaked out about these cans as I was. He could have at least provided me with some small portrayal of the bewilderment that I had felt at following a mile long trail of soda cans.
“Nope, no one.”
His abruptness did not put me at ease. He even picked his hammer back up.
“Oh. Okay, well, thanks anyway.”
“No problem,” he replied, then turned his back to me.
While walking away, I became incredulous. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised by his rudeness. The man was truly gorgeous. It was no wonder he acted like he did. Perhaps it bothered me so much because I was used to guys trying to pursue me, being extra sweet to please me and going out of their way to help me. Luca used to tell me in a very annoyed voice, “They fall all over themselves trying to win your favor.”
I scratched my head in contemplation, wondering what went wrong. . .I guess I was a little sweaty today. Not to mention the guy on the boat had to be at least five or six years older than me. But still. . .it bothered me. In quick, heated strides, I snatched up my bag of cans and walked back in the direction of the golf cart. At least Christo taught me to be more humble, I thought to myself resentfully.
After I thought about it and my temper had cooled somewhat, I became annoyed with myself for relating my confrontation with the beautiful man to my own looks and appeal. I needed to realize that I simply came into contact with someone who was just plain rude. There was nothing else to it. And if I didn’t stop over analyzing everything, I was bound to pick up some bad traits of my own.
I smiled, feeling better. I would just forget the rude guy and finish what was left to clean up along the beach. There was no reason I should let something so insignificant affect me to this extent. I had more important tasks at hand. Like cleaning up the rest of this beach. . .
By the time my work was done, I was exhausted. But it was a good kind of exhaustion. The kind where one feels accomplished.
It wasn’t until I had made it back to the house, showered and sat down to eat lunch before I figured out who the man on the boat was. I nearly choked on my turkey sandwich, remembering the arms that had been wrapped around me during the night of the storm were the same arms of the man on the boat today. It had almost slipped my mind, seeing the remnants of a tattoo sticking out from beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. Some sort of tribal design. He was the angel!
Well, I suppose I could let the angel theory go now that I could see he was perfectly alive and human. There was just something about him. Something I wished I could put my finger on. . .
Nonchalantly, I strolled into the living room where Miriam was lying on the couch watching her soap opera. She had applied a cream mask applied to her face, the exact color of
He merely nodded, imploring me to continue speaking. I still sensed I was interrupting him in some huge way.
My nervousness caused me to speak a little quickly. “Well, you see, I volunteer for Habitat for Humanity and I was helping to clean up this area of the beach today. Anyway, I came across this line of soda cans. It was the weirdest thing. There were a bazillion of them and they eventually led me to this pier. . .” I took a breath to calm my anxiety and waited for his confusion to take root. Thankfully, he just waited for me to finish speaking. “Well, I was wondering if, since you’ve been out here working on your boat and all, if you happened to catch sight of the person who is leaving all these cans behind?”
His face was without expression. He was proving to be exactly like the Grecian sculptures-carved out of stone.
Finally, he said, “Sorry. Didn’t see anyone.”
I waited for him to say more, feeling like an idiot. No other words escaped his perfect lips.
“Oh. . .really? Nobody at all?”
It bothered me more than a little that he didn’t seem as freaked out about these cans as I was. He could have at least provided me with some small portrayal of the bewilderment that I had felt at following a mile long trail of soda cans.
“Nope, no one.”
His abruptness did not put me at ease. He even picked his hammer back up.
“Oh. Okay, well, thanks anyway.”
“No problem,” he replied, then turned his back to me.
While walking away, I became incredulous. I knew I shouldn’t be surprised by his rudeness. The man was truly gorgeous. It was no wonder he acted like he did. Perhaps it bothered me so much because I was used to guys trying to pursue me, being extra sweet to please me and going out of their way to help me. Luca used to tell me in a very annoyed voice, “They fall all over themselves trying to win your favor.”
I scratched my head in contemplation, wondering what went wrong. . .I guess I was a little sweaty today. Not to mention the guy on the boat had to be at least five or six years older than me. But still. . .it bothered me. In quick, heated strides, I snatched up my bag of cans and walked back in the direction of the golf cart. At least Christo taught me to be more humble, I thought to myself resentfully.
After I thought about it and my temper had cooled somewhat, I became annoyed with myself for relating my confrontation with the beautiful man to my own looks and appeal. I needed to realize that I simply came into contact with someone who was just plain rude. There was nothing else to it. And if I didn’t stop over analyzing everything, I was bound to pick up some bad traits of my own.
I smiled, feeling better. I would just forget the rude guy and finish what was left to clean up along the beach. There was no reason I should let something so insignificant affect me to this extent. I had more important tasks at hand. Like cleaning up the rest of this beach. . .
By the time my work was done, I was exhausted. But it was a good kind of exhaustion. The kind where one feels accomplished.
It wasn’t until I had made it back to the house, showered and sat down to eat lunch before I figured out who the man on the boat was. I nearly choked on my turkey sandwich, remembering the arms that had been wrapped around me during the night of the storm were the same arms of the man on the boat today. It had almost slipped my mind, seeing the remnants of a tattoo sticking out from beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. Some sort of tribal design. He was the angel!
Well, I suppose I could let the angel theory go now that I could see he was perfectly alive and human. There was just something about him. Something I wished I could put my finger on. . .
Nonchalantly, I strolled into the living room where Miriam was lying on the couch watching her soap opera. She had applied a cream mask applied to her face, the exact color of
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