.png)
Episode 32
If anyone had the gift of gab it was Abagail Louise Pierce, better known to her friends as Gabby Abby.
If statistical findings showing women speak a daily average of 50,000 words daily versus 25,000 words a day for men were accurate,
then Gabby Abby had no peer in daily word volume.
In southern vernacular, Abby could, “Talk the ears off a mule.”
Fortunately for Abby, her husband, Melvin, a successful architect, was a man of few words.
Melvin’s reticent demeanor was a perfect offset to Abby’s loquacious inclinations. Every word not spoken by Melvin was more than accounted for by his verbose wife.
Abby Pierce didn’t just dominate conversations, she inhaled them like a marathon runner inhaling oxygen for propulsion.
However, Abby’s proclivity to speak was not offensive to her husband or circle of friends. Abby was funny and light-hearted and her rapid fire, non-stop banter was seen as pure entertainment and well worth the price of admission.
There was no doubt, Gabby Abby was a force of nature that gave way to no one, leaving all on her wake,
spellbound and speechless.
Abby and Melvin’s symbiotic relationship was proof positive that opposites do attract.
Melvin’s reticence compensated for Abby’s constant chatter and Abby’s constant chatter compensated for Melvin’s reticence.
Now, with all of their children grown and married, Abby and Melvin were enjoying their golden years, spending much of their time at their second home overlooking Nags Head beach in North Carolina.
Nothing pleased Abby and Melvin more than spending lazy afternoons on the beach with their circle of Nags Head friends.
Abby enjoyed beach time almost as much as she liked to talk. She hummed merrily as she packed a picnic basket for a spur of the moment beach gathering.
Melvin loaded their beach cart with all the essentials, folding lounge chairs, towels, sunscreen, radio, beach umbrella, and last but not least, his portable bar.
Abby carried the picnic basket loaded with fried chicken, deviled eggs, chips, and watermelon as she followed Melvin down the sandy path to the beach.
It was a perfect August day. Not too hot, clear blue skies, slight breeze.
The beach was dotted with sunbathers and beach umbrellas.
As usual, Abby spearheaded the conversation and kept everyone laughing at her non-stop commentary of Nags Head gossip.
The melodious sound of Frank Sinatra wafted from the radio as he crooned, “Summer Wind” while Melvin prepared gin and tonics and margaritas for the gathering.
A late afternoon thunderstorm, typical for August, sent people scurrying in all directions, abruptly ending the relaxed atmosphere.
Abby yelled instructions to Melvin as the wind gained momentum. They scrambled to collect their belongings.
Holding her floppy, pink sun hat on her head with one hand as she grabbed the picnic basket, Abby, in full talk mode, turned to retreat to the dunes with Melvin in tow.
Out of no where, a beach umbrella flew in Abby’s direction. The flying projectile hit Abby full force, piercing her in the chest, mid-sentence, leaving Abby at a loss for words, silencing her forever.
The Nags Head Herald reported Abby’s tragic death the next day, closing the article with, “Statistics confirm that some 3,000 people die annually from incidents resulting from flying objects.”
Melvin eventually remarried. His talkative wife commented to friends that he was a man of few words.
Melvin commented to friends that his new wife was Abby 2.0 and could, “Talk the ears off a mule.”
