She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide. Her mother informed her of the betrothal on the first painful day of her menarche, shortly after her eleventh birthday. Finger to his lips, Gerald pointed in the direction of the noise. Luck. I believe you’ve crushed a gland or something. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. But what would her aunt think of Teddy’s recent off-hand suggestion of marriage? What would she think of the Widgett conversation? Suppose she was to tell her aunt quietly but firmly about the parasitic males of degraded crustacea. As the movie reached its predictable apex, she clutched his right knee in a careful imitation of fear.
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