We had some time to kill. Our 4-wheel drive rental had died on the side of the road. Actually, luckily, it died on the side of the beach. We had just driven the hell out of it through the tidal pools. The entire time, she was holding onto her straw hat and trying to keep her white shirt on. So when the Jeep broke down, it was almost as hair-raising to her as the landing we made on the island in the twin-engine plane the day before. She is more than a little rattled as she staggers down the rocky shoreline carrying a picnic basket and a cooler while I carry the boogie boards and snorkeling gear. She picks a spot on the beach, under a palm tree and sits down in the sand. She opens the cooler, opens two Presidente beers and says, “This is where we’re supposed to be, honey.”
She toasts to the West, she toasts to the East, gleaming with this very sexy smile, as I float on a boogie board, looking at the multi-colored fishes. Yes, fishes - millions of them. I do not exaggerate - millions. Her flowered bikini never looked better on any human being ever in the history of bikinis. Her smile is radiant. It could probably be seen from Neptune. Every now and then, she walks to the water’s edge and dips her feet in. Sometimes she goes in ankle deep. Her smile is still just as radiant. She keeps adjusting the straw hat because she’s very very fair skinned and she’s never been on a tropical island with 100 degree temperatures in the shade. They always say in the songs, “96 degrees in the shade”. It’s still 100.
So, she sashays, in her sandals, across the hot sand, into the water, calf deep, knee deep, belly deep, and ooh right there deep, and hands me a Presidente beer. Now, she holds the Presidente beer perfectly. It doesn’t slosh. It doesn’t move to the right or left. It doesn’t foam over. It comes directly to my hand on the boogie board without missing a stroke. So smooth is the sashay, it doesn’t even scare the fishes. Now, the walk of happiness, I don’t know for sure whether it’s because of the tropical setting or because it is our honeymoon. But the glide in her stride, the dip in her hip, lets me know that she has never been happier.