Over Salad and Hot Bread by mary jenson

Author:mary jenson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: SOC035000
Publisher: Howard Publishing Co., Inc.
Published: 2006-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

She waited until she’d heard all about you before she talked about herself.

* * *

Potential was much more appealing to her than titles and reputation, though she was known to drop a name or two. People’s stories fascinated her. She wanted to know how you got the way you were. And then she wanted to challenge you to be the best you could be.

She looked you in the eye and asked endless questions, often pointed ones that made you face an issue you might be avoiding. And she waited until she’d heard all about you before she talked about herself. All this disarmed people who might normally be guarded—even the famous.

“Did I ever tell you about the time Steve McQueen kissed me?” she asked one morning. I was navigating heavy traffic on the 5 through Los Angeles, and I nearly drove into the retaining wall.

“What?” I asked incredulously. I wanted to look at her and see if she was baiting me but couldn’t take my eyes off the road.

“Did I ever tell you about Steve McQueen?”

My partner, foe, and I returned to La Paz, Mexico, from delivering a boat to San Diego. We had left foe’s boat, an old Block Island ketch, anchored in La Paz Harbor under the watchful eye of a fellow cruiser. Darkness clung to the sandy beach when we arrived and whistled to our friend. He turned on a light aboard his boat and climbed into his dinghy. Another man climbed in with him. When they reached us, our friend said, “This is Steve. He finished the Baja 500 race today and he’s hungry. Why don’t you leave your stuff in my dinghy, and we’ll go to town and get a hamburger.”

When we reached the lighted restaurant, Steve’s blue eyes smiled at us as he signed an autograph for the waitress. While we munched our burgers, he asked us all kinds of questions about our ketch. “Will you take me for a sail tomorrow?” (You bet we will!)

The next morning I rowed to town and went to his hotel. He stood by the desk talking on the phone. When he saw me, he put the receiver down and said, “I can’t go. They want me back in L.A. I’m so sorry.”

I touched his arm. “Take care of yourself,” I whispered, then went out on the sidewalk and wanted to have a temper tantrum. I had walked about a block when I heard him calling my name. He ran up behind me, put his hands on my shoulders, and kissed my cheek.

“I hope I’ll find you guys somewhere in the world so you can take me sailing. OK?”

My body wanted to melt into the sidewalk. “0K,” I murmured. Then he turned and ran back … out of my life.

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