The only time in my life that ever turned out like it
does in the movies, of course, was now.
Eddie put the key into the lock, gave it a good hard
twist and it opened easy as pie. Sadly I didn’t have a pie
on me, because the look he gave me deserved a pie to be
tossed right smack in his face.
As he handed the key back to me, he gave the keychain
“Thank you,” I said, reaching for the key, which he
did not immediately relinquish.
“You’re welcome,” he said, then read the inscription
aloud, “the voice of the sea speaks to the soul.” Then he
gracefully placed the keychain into my waiting palm. I did
“A special meaning of some kind?” he asked.
Oh, brother. I am not getting into a lengthy
discussion with him. “It’s just a message from a friend.”
“Oh, a message from the friend that gave you the
“Yes,” I said as he stepped away from the doorway.
“Well,” Eddie said with a devilish smile as he
stepped off the front porch. “Tell your friend to spray
that lock with a little WD-40 so it doesn’t stick when you
want to open it.”
Oh, I intended to talk to my friend all right. I
could not wait to tell Yvonne that her birthday cottage
came with its very own gorilla.