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my eyes, until this point.  She was a pretty woman, about my uncle’s age, mid 40’s.  My first aunt, Howard’s first wife, had been a bit overweight due to their eating habits, but Gail was a pillar of health.  She had a flat stomach, toned arms and legs, and beautiful skin.  Just as I was surmising that she was not the type of eater that my uncle is, or maybe was, she asked me while extending her arm for a handshake, “Are you hungry can I make you something?” making that the first time I had ever heard the possibility of homemade food an option in my uncle’s presence. 
                  “Yeah, hate to ask you do that being I just got here, but I am pretty hungry,” as the gigantic sandwich I had eaten for breakfast was starting to wear off.
                  “Great, I’ll make us some smoothies, and fresh salmon with wild rice.  How’s that sound?”
                  “Great, thank you,” I said, as she was heading towards the kitchen in no-time.
                  Despite not seeing my uncle in quite a few years, I gave him a look as if to say, “What’s up with this?” 
                  “Yeah, I don’t eat quite as bad as I used to.”  Seeing that my face had turned to a frown, concerned for his health, he quickly added, “Don’t worry, I’m healthy, so it’s nothing like that.  Gail said if she was going to marry me and follow me around from here to there that I had to eat a bit healthier.  To put it like she did, ‘I’m not going to eat this shit for the rest of my life.’  Loving her like I do, I agreed, but don’t worry Mike, I still have my favorite places.”
                  I whispered, “Does she know you still eat out?”
                  He replied, “Of course, we don’t hold secrets from each other,” but after a laugh he added, “I just usually don’t tell her about it.”
                  I sat down next to him in a beach chair, and for the next hour over lunch I told them what I had done so far.  Gail was almost moved to tears when I told them about reconciling with my sister and niece.  They also both got a chuckle when I told them about my wallet, and even offered to give me the money I had lost. 
                  I asked them about their dog, who was off with Bahama giving her the lay of the land, sniffing through the sand in the front yard.
                  “Oh, that’s Snuka.  Funniest thing – one night, not long after we moved out here, he came up to us when we got back to the house after a walk, scaring the shit out of us.”  They both laughed.
                  They added, “But that’s not the funny part.  After we saw he was calm and nice and all that, we noticed he had on loin-cloths like the old wrestler Jimmy ‘Superfly’ Snuka!”  More laughs followed, this time from me too.
                  “After calling the local shelter and leaving some signs up throughout the island nobody claimed him, so he became ours.  For a beach dog he’s terrified of the water, but as you can see, he loves the sand.  He usually shakes most of it off before going into the house, but it feels like we are changing the sheets every day.”
                  “Yeah, because you let him sleep in bed with us,” Gail added, with a smile.
                  After some more light talking, my uncle asked, “So, what are you doing here?”
                  Taken slightly aback, but keeping up with the jovial feel of the conversation I just laughed, not knowing how to answer.  “Good question.”
                  “Ahh, I know that feeling all too well, I think you have some of my blood in you after all.”  Before I could say anything he added, “I’ve been where you are many times, maybe not with as heavy heart as you, but I have always felt like I am searching for something.