"Your brother is right about this place,: he said. "I can see why he finds it stimulating, Artistically. I mean."
"Yes."
"How far does your property go?"
"Just over that ridge," I said, nodding to the left. "and up until the undeveloped beach on the right. It's very private,"
"Beautiful. I wish we lived on the beach. I don't get to the beach as much as I would like. Everyone who knows you live here thinks you're on the beach every day. I don't even have a proper tan." he added mournfully. It was the most he had ever said to me in one breath.
"They say the sun isn't all that good for you anyway. Holden."
"The fox and the grapes again. Another one of Professor Fuentes's allusions, remember? The soreloser mentality?"
"I remember. Holden." "It's interesting how he works fairy tales and nursery rhymes and poetry into his lectures, isn't it?"
"Yes. He's a
fine teacher."
"Maybe that's what I'll end up doing... teaching." "Nothing wrong with that. Holden."
"Can we go for a little walk on your beach?" he asked, adding quickly. "Not long." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. He looked like a little boy whose hope hung an my every word.
I glanced at the time. Thatcher wasn't going to be home for another hour and a half at least.
"Okay, but not for long. I have to get some things done before dinner."
He nodded and moved down the steps quickly, hurrying like someone who was afraid I might change my mind. It made me laugh. but I kept it under control and followed, walking slowly with my arms folded under my breasts and my head dawn most of the time. He was so quiet, for a few moments I felt I was alone.
"Loni is very immature for her age." he blurted. "Don't you think so?"
'Toni? No, not really. She's just a fun girl with a gregarious personality. You should try to spend more time with her. I think she likes you, Holden."
He pulled his chin in and down and pressed his lips together so hard his cheeks bulged.
"Hardly," he said. "She's the kind of girl who has a brain made of lollipops,"
"Lollipops?" I paused and smiled,
"Yes. It's my mother's idea. She likes to point out girls in the mall when she and I go shopping and describe what their brains are made of. Some are lollipops, some are jelly beans, some are just marshmallows. She says you can see it in their eyes. She calls them 'confections' and says the man who marries one of them will be talking to himself before the honeymoon is over."
I shrugged and continued walking.
"My mother likes you," he said. "She met you at your bridal shower."
"Yes. I remember."
"She says she could see you were not a 'confection.' "
"Well, thank her for saving that." I told him. I was biting down on my lower lip to keep from bursting out in hysterics.
"I think so, too." he continued, "I think you're the most stimulating girl on the college campus. I love when you speak in class. You always say intelligent things or ask intelligent questions, unlike L oni and the other 'confections,'
"Maybe you're just being too harsh in your judgments of them, Holden."
"No, I'm not." he insisted.
He surprised me by reaching out to seize my arm at the elbow. I turned in surprise.