From the Sky - Part XI

We spent the next day collecting sand dollars (throwing the live ones back in the Gulf, of course) and marveling at the abundance of sea shells on the white sands. I forgot about Zia altogether. It was a honeymoon, with all the romance and passion that involves. Who thinks of anything but their new husband at a time like that? For that brief time, there was only Joe. I would run my hand down his side as he slept and gaze at his face while he breathed slowly and evenly. We would wake early, and hold each other closely, touching each other gently and exploring undiscovered country while waiting for the sun to rise.

I put Zia out of mind until the night before we came home. We were at a stop light on nearby Sanibel Island, and a terrific downpour began. It was as if God was wringing out a sponge somewhere in heaven. Sanibel is all flat, of course, so there wasn't anyplace for the water to go. We pulled our rental car over and watched as the streets filled, then marveled at how they emptied once the storm passed. It was like someone had pulled a stopper out of the sink and let the water drain away, vanishing heavens knows where …perhaps right back into God's sponge.

"What will you say to her?" Joe asked.

"Who?" I replied, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

"Zia's probably dying of embarrassment."

"No. Zia doesn't dwell on her missteps. She moves on and never looks back."

"But what will you say?"

"Before or while I'm strangling her?"

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