Read Online Shy Town Girls by Katie Leimkuehler - Free Book Online Page B

He was my best friend,” she
said.
    “ He’s stunning, Barbara,” I
confirmed.
    “ Oh yes, didn’t I get lucky? My best
friend happened to be the most handsome man I knew. Well, I guess
you could say I had many handsome beaux, but Donald. . . he was
neither rich, nor poor, but his mind was pure. The way he looked at
me. . .” she paused, reliving a moment long past. “You’ll recognize
the man you’re meant to be with one day by the way he looks at you,
Bobbie baby.”
    Listening to her talk about her late husband with
such pride and confidence raised conflicting feelings in me: envy,
hopefulness, worry, that it would never happen for me. But also
faith—there was a conviction deep down inside me that I hung onto,
believed in. I, too, would find what I was yearning for.
    “ Bobbie, do you know anything about
Eros, Philia, and Agape?” she asked.
    I shook my head. “I mean, yeah, I know the words,
I’ve heard of . . . well, Eros. He’s like the god of love,
right?”
    “ The Greeks were genius people,
Bobbie. They faced the mysteries of life head-on, asking questions
and doubting the norms. And all this reflecting uncovered the same
treasures we still seek today. I wouldn’t expect you, or most
anyone else for that matter, to know how to identify love—because
you’re right, you don’t know what it is. But you, with your
knowledge of other languages, have a head start. Because the
English language deprives us, doesn’t it? It leaves us very
confused about what this ambiguous term ’love’ means.”
    “True,” I said. “Very confused!”
    “The Greeks broke it down into three categories. The
first stage of love they called Eros. Eros is the passions and
intense desire you feel for someone, or even something. Plato said
it’s the deeply embedded desire to seek the beauty of another
individual. When you find something that captures you, it reminds
you that true beauty exists in the world. That’s a very powerful
thing. It’s no wonder it consumes us.”
    I thought of Charlie’s beauty, how seductive it was,
even when I could see right through it to the vain shallow
core.
    ‘He who loves the beautiful is called a lover
because he partakes of it,’” she quoted. “Falling in love is loving
the space in between you and whatever it is you find beautiful.
It’s not the individual himself you fall in love with, it is what
he provokes from you. Do you understand, Bobbie baby?”
    I nodded, but I questioned myself. Did I understand?
It seemed to me Barbara was talking in riddles, or maybe she was
drinking something stronger than just tea.
    She picked up a glass cup that was sitting on her
kitchen table. “Now take this glass, for instance. How beautiful is
this? Italian-made, excellent design, hand-blown. It probably took
hours of passionate work. Do you think it’s beautiful, Bobbie?” she
asked.
    “ Yes, it’s very
beautiful.”
    Barbara held it above her head and with great might,
threw the glass to the floor, causing it to shatter into a dozen
pieces. I was shocked. How crazy was this lady?
    She looked at me and smirked. “Do you still think
the glass I was holding a second ago is beautiful?”
    Shocked and confused I uttered, “Uh—I guess. Yes, I
did believe it was beautiful.”
    “ Exactly my point, Bobbie, it
wasn’t the glass that you loved. It was the feelings it evoked from
you. Good news. There are many glasses in the world, of all shapes,
sizes, and colors. That is Eros.”
    I felt more confused than ever.
    She slapped her hands on the top of her thighs.
“Next time you come visit me, we’ll talk about the second stage of
love, Philia.”
    “Great,” I said. I wondered what she’d destroy to
illustrate that!
    We said good-night, and I walked down the stairs. I
kept thinking about Charlie’s face and Barbara throwing that glass,
breaking it into pieces. I could not figure out what she was trying
to say to me, but I had to admit I sometimes had the urge to smash
that