The Fisherman's Niece

Chapter 3

       Once she was on the road, Meriel opened her window and enjoyed the rush of fresh air. The farther she got from the house, the more the whining in her head faded, and the easier it was to dismiss the strange events of the night before as nothing more than stress-induced nightmares. Getting out to enjoy the beautiful day was just what she needed. It took some searching and driving through more than one little coastal town for her to find a grocery store that she hoped would have what she wanted.

       The market was not crowded, but it was bright and cheery, something city grocery stores severely lacked. There was a checker leaning idly on her register, and a couple other uniformed kids that were pushing brooms and stocking shelves. She grabbed a cart and started towards the produce section. The rule of thumb she'd learned for healthy eating was to stick to the outside edges of the store and avoid the aisles. With the exception of baking supplies and things like cereal and dried pasta, it had turned out to be a pretty good rule. She picked out some nice fresh produce and was about to take a detour around to the bakery when she spotted a man deep in thought over some oranges. He was too good-looking to be a native, but he didn't look much like a tourist either. She hurried around the corner before he looked up. Attractive men had never been one of her strong suits. They made her heart flutter, and her hands usually got sweaty and gross.

       After distracting herself with some baked goods and breaking her rule long enough to snag some kitchen essentials from the middle aisles, she headed for dairy. The squeak of another cart's wheels from somewhere behind, caused her to pick up her pace, and she blew past the meat section without even breaking her stride. Most meat didn't really appeal to her anyway, and what she wanted she could get fresher down by the water. Wheeler was a fishing town and she planned on stopping there on her way home to see if they had a good fish market. There were a few cans of albacore tuna in her cart to keep her tided over until she could get her stove working again. Right now all she could think of was trying not to bump into any handsome strangers. She smiled, how cliche would that be?

       While contemplating yogurt, she caught some movement out of the corner of her eye. Trying to be discreet, she peeked in that direction and had to admit she was more than a little intrigued by the man she saw standing there. He was closer, and now that she could really see him, she decided that attractive was a huge understatement. His hair was a dark mass of sexy curls that gave him that just rolled out of bed look. His face was strong and angular, and he had a thin layer of stubble which added just a hint of ruggedness. Damn. He was the exact opposite of her ex, and just her type. When he turned to her and smiled, she could see that he had two of the bluest eyes she had ever seen. They matched the blue-green of tropical seas, not the dingy gray of the ocean waters around here. She immediatedly forgot about the yogurt, and hurried to steer her cart around the corner, praying that she had only imagined the drool hanging out of her open mouth. He must be a tourist. No one that good-looking hid themselves away in a tiny town on a rainy coast, did they? Meriel hated good-looking men, especially really sexy ones. Maybe not so much hated, as avoided like the plague.

       It wasn't that Meriel couldn't attract a man. Her hair, so dark it was almost black, shone beautifully in the sunlight and she'd grown it long for the soft natural curls that most women would kill for. Her eyes were a charming shade of green and she'd been told that the full force of her smile was devastating. She'd been approached often over they years, but her lack of social graces always managed to trip her up. She'd get nervous and laugh really loud, or start talking non-stop. Mom's lessons had not done much to prepare her for encounters with the opposite sex.

       “Don't get close to people, make no emotional ties you can't break, never stop moving.“

       The attractive ones were the hardest for her to handle, probably because she had never learned how to manage simple conversation. They would see her from across a room, or at a park and make their way to her side. Sometimes the pick-up lines were pretty comical which eased her tension a little, but then she'd open her mouth. Eventually the interest that had drawn them to her would fade and they would make some lame excuse to find someone else to talk to. Alan had been the first guy to make it past her awkward nature and spend enough time with her to break down some of her defenses. He had chided her often when they were in public, but he'd never minded her quirky behavior when they were alone. In the end she'd barely left the apartment for fear of embarrasing him.