Call It Paradise

Chapter Thirteen

Simon and John invited me to stay while they worked and I obliged by taking a seat on a bench alongside their shop. A large white sailboat rested upon its trailer bed inside the garage, a couple of large gouges taken out from the transom's side. I watched them perform their craft, busying themselves with grinding down the fiberglass and creating a mixture to seal it back up. They took turns working on various parts of the boat from the obvious repair to smaller check-ups inside the cockpit.

I could sense Simon was anxious about coming to dinner, as he worked quietly and focused on his tasks. He hardly looked at me, except during short moments of rest. I didn't blame him for his feelings but tried my best to raise his spirits as we chatted. It only worked temporarily, though, before he sunk back into the world of his work. I could only sit and watch, observing how he furrowed his eyebrows and set his jaw during moments of concentration. How I wished to have known his thoughts.

The daytime hours ticked away and when Simon and I grabbed a quick bite to eat from a street vendor, we discussed the menial details related to dinner. According to plan, I later went home, freshened up, and helped my family clean the house and prepare dinner. Meanwhile, after work, Simon went home to shower and dress before trekking up the hill to my house just after sunset.

Right on time, he appeared from up the walkway and I greeted him on the porch steps. He stood tall in a tan suit and matching tie, but seemed nervous and apprehensive. Hoping to give him some sort of comfort, I squeezed his hand and kissed him. His tension loosened underneath my touch and I only hoped it would last through the night. As I led him into the house, we entered to find my family had stationed themselves nonchalantly around the living room, some ready to watch the drama and others ready to make it.

"Hello, Simon," my father said, shaking his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Patterson."

"Please, call me Frank. And my wife, Carolyn."

"Hello," Simon said, turning to her.

My mother greeted him warmly, shaking his hand and smiling at him as if he were an honored guest. My uncle also approached and introduced himself, before giving me a discreet wink when he stepped aside. Much to my surprise, my aunt was close behind to introduce herself, saying little but displaying her utmost graciousness. And, with a little goading from their parents, my brother and cousins, all reserved at first, quickly smiled back when given Simon's attention.

Once everyone had introduced themselves more properly than the last time, we gathered around for drinks and conversation. My father, priding himself on being our cocktail mixer, asked everyone what they wanted to drink. While they were being mixed and served, I sat on the love seat and motioned for Simon to join me. The conversation was small and insignificant, consisting of nearly everything except the weather. Simon glanced down nervously at the drink in his hand, placing the base of the cocktail glass in his palm repeatedly as he looked amongst my family for a friendly face. The ice in his drink was melting quickly from his hot touch.

"So Simon," my father began. "What do you do for work?"

"I work in a repair shop with my uncle--we work on boats of all kinds, like motor-powered or sailboats."

"A repair shop? You get good business out here?"

"Oh yeah, there's always boats that need fixing--believe it or not. Sometimes it slows down depending on the season but we can have a lot of customers on this side of the island."

"Do you own the business?"

"Well, my uncle does, but I suppose I will inherit it someday."

"'Suppose,'" my aunt repeated in a hushed tone to my mother.