Harry set down his drink, and leveled his gaze at Nan. "I think you're the most beautiful woman on the island."
Harry Guzeman, an arts and crafts store owner, with a suppressed desire to be an artist. Married for ten years, now divorced.
Gently placed, with considerable control, so as not to make a loud percussive sound when the glass met the kitchen counter where Harry and Nan stood.
To the point where the glass met the counter. Although gravity continued to exert its pull on the glass, the counter top prevented any further downward motion, allowing Harry the use of both his hands without being concerned about spilling the drink, leaving him to concentrate fully on Nan.
The drink was mixed by Charlie, an electrician who was dating Allison, George (the host of the party)'s sister. However, Charlie offered the drink to Harry, and Harry had in fact drunk over half already. No one questioned that the drink belonged to Harry. Not even Carol, George's girlfriend, despite her long-standing grudge with Harry.
Scotch and soda. Not Harry's favorite drink, but the tequila had run out shortly after 10.
In fact, Harry had set down the glass simultaneously with levelling his gaze at Nan.
Harry was 5' 8", while Nan stood at 5'7". However, tonight Nan was wearing high-heels.
The gaze originated with Harry, but it was definitely meant for Nan.
The eyes, the window of Harry's soul, were blue with flecks of green, undeterred by traces of red veins. The veins, in turn were enhanced somewhat by the tequila which had run out shortly after 10. The eyes focused directly, precisely and steadfastly in the direction of Nan's own eyes, which were greyish green, demurely framed by long black lashes. Nan considered herself to be a "natural" woman, wearing little makeup, one of the qualities which endeared her to Harry.
When eyes meet, the connection felt can have far greater an effect than any physical contact. And in this case, it did.
Nan Mandolin, a landscape gardener who had studied ballet quite seriously as a girl, but who was considered too "big-boned" to pursue the form seriously. Having traveled to many parts of the world for most of her life, she has recently settled on the island.
Perhaps it was her proximity, perhaps his slight state of inebriation, but on this occasion Harry had no trouble owning full responsibility for his feelings.
Harry thought a lot about Nan. Sometimes too much. Sometimes he could not get her off of his mind. His opinion mattered, of course, but what mattered more was sharing it with Nan. Now at last he was no longer just thinking. He was doing. The self-help tapes were working.
The glorious second-person-singular personal pronoun, contracted with the eternal second person singular form of the verb "to be," a singularly personal expression directed at perhaps the second person in Harry's life with whom he would find singularly personal happiness. And fortunately still single.
Not "one of the"... which would have acknowledged that there were in fact many beautiful women on the island, but the, the one-and-only. Harry was only four words into the sentence, and already on a roll.
Harry savored the "oh" sound, stretching out the word, building suspense. "Most what, Harry?" Nan was eager to know.
Beautiful as a glistening, emerald-blue lake on a summer's day. Beautiful as the flight of the eagle. Beautiful as the silky fur of a puppy. Not, perhaps, beautiful by beauty-pageant, Ponds-commercial standards, but to Harry's heart, the purest, deepest, richest, most extravagant beauty to be imagined.
That Nan was a woman, and Harry a man, was pretty much the crux of the whole situation, at least as far as Harry was concerned.
People may live "in" a county, or "in" a state, or "in" a city, or "in" a neighborhood. Some may even live "in the islands." But few live "in" an island. That's just the way it goes, Harry figured.
Harry, winding down now, began to wonder if he had made a mistake by opening his mouth at all. "Too late to stop now," he thought.
Outland Island, a place of magnificent vistas, considerable privacy and sometimes harsh weather. Since Nan had moved here, she found work difficult to find. Even worse, in her opinion, the men fell into two narrow categories... red-neck construction workers and long-haired unemployed new-agers. "I guess it's about time to go home," Nan thought to herself.