Sara and Abby (Sara's Summer Abroad) Read Free Page B

and wandered out in to the courtyard,
and then into the street.  There was an eerie calm over the town.  There was a
slight chill in the air, and a dense fog.  Sara ambled down the cobblestone
sidewalk, thinking.
     
                Things
sure had gotten more active lately; her first girl, her first professor, her
first threesome.  It was sort of a sexual global warming; her horizons were
expanding so fast, they were being swallowed up by the heated ocean waters.   
Sara wondered whether she was discovering something about herself, or just
having a fling.  Usually, when she wondered whether one of two things caused a
third, it turned out a combination of the two things was the actual cause.  So,
by that reasoning, Sara was discovering herself and having a fling.  Nothing
wrong with that, she supposed.  On the other hand, what if she was a lesbian,
and never really knew it?  What if she were a slut, and never knew it?  Sara
stopped in front of the window of a pastry shop that was just opening up.  The
smell of the fresh baked goods enveloped her, and the owner waved for her to
come inside.
     
                “Chill
of a day out there, mate,” the fat man behind the counter greeted.
     
                “It
is.  But smelling your pastries makes up for it,” Sara smiled.  Sara knew the
owner appreciated her compliment.  Sara was good at that; getting on someone’s
good side quickly.
     
                “I’ll
have a coffee and a cream-filled scone, thanks.”  The owner quickly gathered
the snack, and set them down at a small counter where Sara sat down.
     
                “I
detect an American, eh?” the owner said. 
     
                “Yes,
I confess.  I hope I don’t come across too boorish, or anything.”
     
                “Not
at all, pet.  You here at Oxford, studying?”
     
                “Yes. 
How did you know?”  Sara asked.
     
                “I
see a good lot of you, each summer.  You’re looking a bit down in the dumps. 
Maybe you’ve done some things during this lark you aren’t sure of.  There’s one
or two each summer.  It’s okay, pet.  You’re here to broaden your horizons.”
     
                Sara
looked at the owner quizzically.  “You haven’t been on the ‘phone to my mother,
have you?” 
     
                The
owner smiled, and held out his hand.  “Devin’s the name.  I been doing this for
about twenty years or so.  It’s a bit of a routine.  Don’t be so hard on
yourself.  Just enjoy yourself.  You American’s are too quick to guilt.”
     
                Sara
shook Devin’s hand lightly.  “Pleasure, Devin.  And I suppose you’re onto something
with the ‘too quick to guilt’ stuff.  I do kind of feel guilty.”
     
                “Well,
whatever it is, it takes experience to define yourself.  Remember that.  Let
the experiences happen, and let them affect you how they may.”
     
                Sara
bit into her pastry.  It was still warm.
     
                “You
know, it’s sort of ironic that I’m feeling guilty, and I happen across you,
selling pastries, which only makes me feel like I’m indulging myself even more
than I should.”
     
                “I
know, lass.  Believe it or not, that’s part of why I went into the business. 
People don’t indulge themselves enough.  Life is short; made up of little
moments.  If you don’t take time to indulge yourself, it’s all over before you
know it, and then, what’s the point?” 
     
                Sara
thought as she sipped her coffee, arriving at a conclusion.  “Devin, you’re one
of the wisest pastry chefs I’ve ever met.”  She smiled broadly at him, thankful
for his perspective, and reassured by the providence that caused her to
encounter it.  “I need to get ready for classes, but I