Coming to Life on South High by Lee Patton

Coming to Life on South High by Lee Patton

Author:Lee Patton [Patton, Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635559071
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2021-02-25T00:00:00+00:00


According to my desire alone

by my will alone

love desires only beauty of soul

to calm passion.”

Inside the open foyer, a tall, disheveled, handsome young man applauded. “Bravo, mademoiselle. My sentiments exactly. Let love beat all passion into submission, that’s what I say.”

Buddy had been drinking in the hotel bar, waiting at the window for Candy to return. His shirttails half dangling and half tucked into cords, his long brown hair aiming in five directions, he looked like an overgrown preppy on a long bender. Candy accepted his hug, more ambush than embrace, and deflected his kiss Parisian-style, glanced off the cheek.

“Where the hell have you been, darling?” he asked with the slight Dallas drawl Candy had lost. “I’ve been worried sick.”

“You don’t look sick. You look kind of drunk.”

“You look like you found a new boyfriend. Already!” He flashed a wild, white smile and extended his hand to Gabe. “You know, you two look great together. I could see you guys strolling up from the river bank, backlit in the evening sun, pretty as a picture postcard.” Affable, earnest, and tipsy as hell, he studied Gabe, then blurted, “Why don’t you marry her?”

✥ ✥ ✥

The next day, Gabe stored his luggage at the Grand Hotel Saint-Saëns until he could catch the midnight train. Candy was free in the late afternoon and invited Gabe along for dinner with her and Buddy that evening. So Gabe polished off a few two-star attractions he’s missed near the Saint-Saëns, then wandered across the river, back to the Musée Cluny to regard it again in light of what Candy had taught him. He found a new appreciation for its medieval façades, the “refined communal longing” he’d been blind to before, as well as new admiration for Candy’s easy academic curiosity and commentary.

In the nearby Luxembourg Gardens, Candy met Gabe alone beside a playground jammed with kids, crazy with monkeyshines. Even the parents seemed euphoric, exulting in yet another perfect late summer afternoon. The two friends kissed the Parisian way and laughed at themselves.

Gabe wore his best clothes, set aside for the Barcelona conference keynote, his only good slacks and a silk button-down, because he suspected Candy would again array herself brilliantly. He was right. She wore her ponytail collected under a tiny scarf, Ray-Bans, bright red lipstick, a light, frilly blouse that exposed her shoulders and showed off a pearl pendant on a gold chain and the cleavage it dropped into, and some kind of crazy, tight pedal pushers. The dads on playground benches stared at her, their cartoon eyes glued in helpless heterosexual automaticity. Somehow Candy looked both sophisticated and deeply American, and in a matching paradox, both schoolgirlish and seductive.

“So, where’s Buddy?” Gabe asked, casual. But as often in Paris over the past week, his heart felt loopy as a chimp on the jungle gym.

“He’ll join us for dinner later.”

“So…” He stepped back, eyeing her head to toe with deliberation. “All this is for little ol’ me, Candy?”

“All this? Look at you, Gabe. You even combed your hair.



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