Читать книгу A Place Called Paradise - Honey Perkel - Страница 9

The next morning, Lulu was anxious to explore this small beach town. To purchase coffee, sweet danishes, chocolates, jellies, and donuts. Just the basics. And some candles. White. Also, she hoped to meet up with Bernard later.

She showered and dressed in a green skirt, striped t-shirt, and red boots, minus the brown smudge on the right toe. Catching a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror, she stopped to study her reflection. It was not something she did often. She examined the splash of orange that streaked across her lifeless gray hair and the slight lines in the corner of her eyes. Creases not wrinkles, she told herself. She inspected her second chin and puffy body. In her forty-six years of life, she had packed on three hundred eighty-some pounds.

Lulu was always trying to convince herself she was comfortable in her skin, that she was happy. She told herself that if someone didn’t like the way she looked, they could look elsewhere. However, in moments of honesty with herself, she knew she would rather have a thin, supple body. Who wouldn’t? But, she guessed it wouldn’t happen in this lifetime.

Sweets was her middle name, the staff of her life, and what paid her bills. The Mystic Muffins Bakery was a resounding success, thanks to her and Karen and the other women who made up their team. And owning a bakery gave her immediate access to relief, feeding her addiction.

Most of the time Lulu didn’t concern herself with not having a man in her life. In her heart of hearts, she would’ve liked to have a warm male to curl up to. To share donuts and old movies with. And it would be nice to have sex now and then, very nice indeed, but it was no big whoop. Most of the time.

Earlier that morning, Lulu had briefly met the man in cottage number two. She’d gone to get a copy of the Oregonian in the newspaper cage outside the office. Still dressed in the boxer shorts and Mickey Mouse t-shirt she’d slept in, Lulu hadn’t expected to run into anyone at five-thirty a.m.; but there he was. Ben Dunzer. Handsome. Virile. Blonde wavy hair, graying at the temples. Broad shoulders. Wearing the football jersey number double zero. He appeared to be the kind of man any woman would find attractive.

She couldn’t explain why she felt so drawn to him. This was a feeling so foreign to her. It wasn’t just his good looks, was it? Perhaps she was desperate. Well, duh!

Her dating experience thus far consisted of occasional dates. First dates only. But none of that mattered, for Ben would never be attracted to her anyway.

Lulu had been unpacking her car, when he asked if she needed help. She’d declined his offer. Was it because she wanted to show him she was no shrinking violet? Well, she hardly looked like a shrinking anything.

Turning away from the mirror, Lulu tossed her hair about her shoulders.

“I don’t have time for this bologna,” she said to Spirit, who was sitting on the edge of the bathtub grooming herself. Lulu grabbed her black leather jacket, wished the cat a great day, and stepped out onto the stoop.

The sun was blazing. She felt as though she’d entered another world from the one she’d been in last night. Gone were the black terrors. Gone were the shadows and fear. The town had come alive with the sights and smells of the ocean and the warm, sandy beach. Everywhere she looked were people and fun and surf. No wonder Bernard referred to Seaside as Paradise.