"Beauty beyond measure," in the sweltering heat of the beach, his tongue licked peak of chocolate and vanilla double scoop ice cream. Tad turned, leaned back against boardwalk vending counter, saw her sitting neath table umbrella. "Beauty beyond measure," he took second lick.
"Pretty for sure," he thought, "and unique, yet classic, even modest, like an old movie." Tad breathed in the enchantment of her perfect oval face, a face in contrast with the dark sunglasses that hid her eyes, a face near as pale as the white scarf that swaddled it. His eyes drifted with breeze, flowed with and thru her white chiffon jacket to the light lime top and peach tinted shorts beneath. "Modesty and beauty amid the land of the bikini..." Tad's thoughts gave way to unthinking magnetism, magnetism that drew him, pulled him up from leaning on counter, propelled him to the edge... of her table.
And there Tad stood, not noticing the cool stickiness of chocolate and vanilla dribble, dribbling down right hand. Nor had she noticed him, her gaze fastened on cell phone screen, her pink lips repeating disenchantment, "Whatever!" She poked phone screen. "Whatever." She poked it again. "Whateverest..." A tear peaked from under dark shades rim. She wept.
"You need a lick?" Tad wished he had phrased that a tad better.
"What?" Her weeping abruptly ceased, gave way to blush.
"Ice cream," Tad offered, extended cone, "it'll make ya feel better."
The blush of anger faded from her face. She wrestled with the smile tugging at the corners of her lips, but... "He's not bad looking," texted cross her mind's smart phone screen, listed inventory, "sandy hair, green eyes, tan, fit, and bearing gifts." She removed dark shades; her green eyes met his.
"Ice cream is good for the soul," Tad offered again.
"My soul?" She took his hand. She licked chocolate, licked lips, took a bite. Tad sat down beside her. She did not let go his hand. "My soul," she repeated between nibbles. The tears returned.
"Was it sad news," Tad asked, "sad news on the phone?"
"More bad than sad," she answered, took bite of chocolate with a tad of vanilla below, added, "more mean than anything. Oh, that vanilla mixed in there is good." Still holding his hand, she took another nibble, added, "Just frenemies morphing into the bullies they are. This is the best ice cream." She took bite, confessed, "They said Dwindaline is a fataline..." Ice cream squished from between her lips, dribbled down her chin. "Dwindaline the Fataline!" She wailed.
"So you are Dwindaline." With free left hand Tad retrieved napkin from table, dabbed ice cream from her chin. "I'm Tad... by the way."
"Dwindeeeeee!" Dwindaline cried a bit more, managed to sniffle out, "My friends call me Dwindy. At least I thought they were my friends." She choked out.
"Dwindy is a pretty name." Tad dabbed tears from her cheeks, wiped her nose.
"I can weigh whatever you want me to." Dwindy searched Tad's face.
"Weight is only a measure." Tad smiled, laid before her his heart, "You are beauty beyond measure, Miss Dwindy."
"But meanies judge by weight?" Dwindy half stated, half asked.
"Whatever is more: the worth of weight, or the weight of worth; the measure, or that measured." Tad could not take his eyes off of her, as he weighed in, "Good health, both physical and even more so spiritual, is the Whateverest weight of worth."
Dwindy could not let go his hand, trembling, she asked, "Tad, who are you?"
"Just a Tad... by the way, who is honored to even ask you..."
That very Sunday night, Dwindy still held Tad's hand, and his arm too, as they entered by the Way... the Door... attended Church together... the Whateverest of all beginning...
P.S. After Church they joyfully ate at an ice cream social in the back yard of the Good Shepherd.
Revelation 19:7-10; John 14:6; John 10:7-11
