Читать книгу Perfect Bait - Michael Douglas Fowlkes - Страница 13

When your life finally flashes before your eyes, you will have only moments to regret all the things in life you never had the courage to try.

—Author Unknown

Chapter 5

Ocean Beach, California

The powerful infinite heart of the wave began to swell under her. She could feel it gaining force from the offshore trench as it approached. She spun around, timing her move perfectly. Water was now being sucked off the shallows by the fury building behind her. Having had nothing in its way since its journey began a thousand miles south, far off the coast of Baja, its unbridled dominance was now being challenged by a little outcropping of submerged rocks that slashed outwards from the sheer cliffs along the southern most section of this stretch of beach—its fury unleashing into madness at its destiny—the blackness giving way to a beautiful midnight blue.

She paddled. Deep, strong strokes. Effortlessly into the sweet spot … into the very heart of the wave. From the beach it looked as if the monster was going to swallow her whole. Several tourists stopped in their tracks, staring wide-eyed. The locals were watching, as well. How could anyone take his eyes off such a perfect pair?

Surrendering, her mind simply let go, allowing pure instinct to take control, as the wave continued to build. In an instant, she went from paddling to her feet. The blues changed colors behind her, turning white as the top of the huge wave began cresting overhead, forming into a perfect left. During a south swell, there was no place on earth she’d rather be. Shooting down the face, her left arm and hand gracefully reached out toward the wave. Her fingers were outstretched, not so much for balance, but because she loved caressing the face of the wave as she dropped in. The pure, silky blue melted between her fingers. It was her special way of saying thank you. She felt as if she were touching the face of God.

Spray exploded overhead, surrounding her in holy mist and completely obscuring her from everyone watching along the beach.

The wave continued to crash forward, unleashing tons of furious white water, its deafening roar filling the air for a thousand yards in all directions. The tourists, unable to move, stared in disbelief. One of the ladies formed a cross over her chest, believing she’d just witnessed a girl being killed by a giant wave.

But inside the wave, Jennifer couldn’t have been more alive. Every fiber of her body was charged with electricity. Words can’t describe what it’s like being inside a wave, especially a wave like this. After what seemed like an eternity, she shot out from beneath the crashing avalanche of white water into the afternoon sunlight. Effortlessly flying down the face, then turning back towards the foam, she hesitated for a split second before jetting up its face again and dropping back down. Her body blended into the wave, becoming one—a dance of pure harmony as their destinies carried them toward the beach.

“Unbelievable,” one of the locals murmured.

“No shit. What a ride,” another said, without taking his eyes off Jennifer, as she kicked out over the top of the wave.

Now outside the break, Jennifer’s pounding heart began to slow as she inhaled the rich ocean air. It had been an incredible ride. Perhaps one of the best of my life, she thought to herself, closing her eyes and thanking the gods once again for their gifts, for her sanctuary.

And for those few precious moments, the loneliness inside her wasn’t all consuming.

The People’s Republic of OB. A place that welcomes stray dogs, nude sunbathers and wandering souls alike with open arms—a perfect blend of huge old shade trees, blondes in bikinis, dilapidated beach shacks, and busted Volkswagen buses. With its skateboards, beach cruisers, fish tacos and juice stands, Ocean Beach is a quiet, little out-of-the-way community that really doesn’t give a damn about anything east of the boardwalk. Ocean Beach is sunshine, surf and sunsets, beach fires and good music, veggie burgers, guacamole and tofu, getting tan, getting tubbed, and getting laid. Squeeze some fresh OJ in the morning and hit the beach. Enjoy the breakfast of champions—sun flakes and surf.

We were getting low on funds, so before we melted totally into a beach life of having to collect empty soda bottles for refunds, I knew I’d have to find some work.

If it hadn’t been for Sierra, I may have never discovered Hodad’s. We were sitting on the tailgate of Little Green. Okay, I confess. I named my truck. I know it’s corny, but what can I tell you, it’s a ’51 Ford. My grandpa taught me how to drive it when I first started working the cannery, and it runs like a charm. All of a sudden Sierra’s ears perked up, and her tail started wagging. Sure enough, within a few seconds, an older gentleman walked up and stopped just short of us.

“Young man, it looks to me as if you’ve got yourself two of the most important things a man could ever want in life …” He paused as he looked us over. I didn’t interrupt his thoughts. “…A devoted dog and a good truck.”

His simple summation of my existence made me smile. I couldn’t help but smile whenever Sierra did some of her puppy stuff, but this was one of the few times I’d actually smiled at another human since leaving Seattle. “You’ll get no argument from me, sir,” I answered, extending my hand. His grip was strong. “Corey Phillips.”

“You’re not from around here, are ya?” he asked.

“No, sir. From up north.” Nodding toward Sierra, I added, “We’ve only been here a little while.”

He looked around and paused again. “It’s not what it used to be, but it’s still a pretty good place to live.”

“Yes, sir, it’s a beautiful spot.”

He sat down next to Sierra and affectionately patted her on the head for a couple of minutes.

“You like burgers, Johnny?”

“What?”

“You know, hamburgers—lettuce, tomatoes, pickle, and an all beef patty on a sesame seed bun.”

I was thinking he’d lost it, as he hummed the McDonald’s theme song.

“I think you’d like this place around the corner. It’s called Hodad’s, but it doesn’t have a sign out front or anything. You just got to know it’s there and be looking for it in the trees.” With one last affectionate fluff of Sierra’s head, he said good-bye. Before he continued on his walk, he added, “They even let dogs in.” Just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

Funny how the universe works.

Just like the old man said, Hodad’s was tucked way back off a shady side street. Covered with vines and shrubs, it was half hidden by huge overhanging ficus trees. If you hadn’t been looking for it, you would’ve thought it was just another old beach cottage—one that housed a family with lots of friends. The worn, faded brick pathway leading to the open Dutch door was relatively well traveled. A mossy texture about its edges gave it a feeling and look that fit the place, neatly blending into the freshly mowed lawn. As you got closer to the house, the scent of cut grass gave way to even more powerful aromas. The fresh baked smells of old-fashioned home cooking wafted over to us and overwhelmed our senses like a spring morning.

“Come on in,” a warm voice called out from behind a bushel of flowing auburn hair. “The dog’s welcome, too, so long as you aren’t with the County.”

“Thanks,” I said, opening the door, holding out my arms, “no badges here.”

“Sit anywhere you’d like,” she added, gesturing to the wooden tables and chairs scattered around the room. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

The place wasn’t crowded. Several old oak tables and captain’s chairs were vacant. We moved across the worn, uneven wooden planks to a small booth in the corner that looked out toward the street.

“I didn’t hear you drive up,” another friendly voice announced approaching the booth. I was still looking out across the front yard. “Lots of parking this time of the year. Just wait a few months, and you won’t be able to park within a mile of this place.”

I turned, and my breath caught in my throat. The face behind the voice was breathtaking. I had known a beautiful woman, much to my pain, but this one looked like an angel.

“I ride my bike in most of the time, anyway,” she continued.

I lapsed into speechlessness.

She continued to work her magic spell on the dog without seeming to notice I couldn’t speak. “Come here, baby, and give me a kiss.” Sierra didn’t need to be asked twice. “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you, girl? You’re the cutest thing in the world.” More kisses. “Come on. Let’s see what we’ve got in back.” And with that, they both disappeared around a corner towards what I could only guess was the kitchen.

My heart was racing. I closed my eyes, glad to be alone. I had no idea what had just happened. We had made eye contact for only a split second, but in that moment I saw something in her eyes. Maybe it was the way she looked at me. I don’t know. But there was definitely something there. I slowly shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Relax, I told myself. What are you thinking? I had no idea, but my heart pounded in my ears. There was something about her. I picked up a menu and tried to focus on something else, but her image lingered on the pages between the hash browns and scrambled eggs.

“You in the mood for breakfast? You’ve been looking at that page for the past couple minutes. We’ve got great eggs. Raise the chickens out back. One hundred percent organic feed.”

I didn’t know what to say. I felt so stupid, staring at the face of an angel and not being able to form a sentence.

“Take all the time you need. Sierra’s in the backyard. We rustled her up a little something to munch on. Just let me know when you’re ready to order.”

“How did you, ah, know her name?” I finally managed to get out.

“It’s on her collar.”

I could only nod.

“I’m Jennifer,” the angel said, extending her delicate hand. “You must be Corey. Either that, or you’ve kidnapped one of the coolest dogs I’ve ever met.” Her charm was effervescent and cascaded effortlessly from her like a gentle waterfall.

Instinctively, I stood up and took her hand. Her touch sent chills down my spine. Our eyes locked. I was still speechless. Time stood still. Her eyes didn’t flinch but looked deeply into mine, searching without asking. And there it was again … dancing to the surface … that spirit inside her. I saw the smile in her eyes, and I melted. I have no idea how long we stood there, but eventually she placed her other hand on top of mine. I looked down as I felt her touch.

“How about I bring you some fresh OJ to start with?”

“Fine,” I heard myself answer from somewhere in the distance.

Jennifer held the half orange in her palm against the whirring juicer.

What was that all about? she thought to herself. She cut another orange in two and watched Corey from the pass-through to the dining room. Sierra’s friendly, that’s for sure, but she’s just a pup, and I’ve never met a Golden that wasn’t friendly. But still, good dogs come from loving owners.

On cue, Sierra came bounding in through the back door, running full speed through the kitchen, past Jennifer, directly toward my table. But on the hard wood floors, when she put on the brakes, all four legs went sprawling out from under her. If I hadn’t bent over in time to catch her, she would have crash-landed into my chair. But as it was, she was in my arms, all kisses and wiggles. Her tail wagged so hard her entire body was moving. Oblivious to the averted disaster, she acted as if she’d planned the entire sequence.

It’s a dog’s world, Jennifer continued thinking to herself, totally in the moment. Not a worry about what might have been, or what’s going to happen next … just happy she’s in his arms. He treats her right, that’s for sure, and she definitely loves him. They’re pretty cute together.

She juiced two more oranges and filled an old oversized jelly jar covered with hand painted hibiscus and palm fronds.

So what’s different about this one?

She picked up the glass.

One minute I’m walking into a restaurant, thinking about ordering a burger, and the next minute I can’t even say my name. I kept my attention focused on Sierra, for fear of another meltdown, as Jennifer brought over the orange juice.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Jennifer said. Then, addressing Sierra, “When he’s ready to order, why don’t you just come and get me. What do you say, girl?”

I glanced up in time to see Jennifer smile as she turned away from the table. There was something about her. I wondered how many restaurants would allow a dog inside to begin with, and then actually treat the animal as if it belonged there. I liked the place immediately, long before I ever tasted the food or fell in love with my waitress.

Somehow I’d managed to order. After finishing the best burger I’d ever eaten, the bronzed, silver-haired proprietor came out from around back and wanted to know whose pup Sierra was. Given that there were only about a half a dozen other people in the place, and most of them he already seemed to know, I owned up. “She’s mine.”

“Don’t recall seeing you in here before.”

“First time. Great burger, by the way.”

“Thanks. Organically fed. Makes all the difference in the world. My wife, Virginia’s idea, serving organic. Mind if I sit down? The name’s Bryon.”

“Be my guest. I’m Corey, Corey Phillips. Sierra and I are from Seattle.

Been on the road for a few months. Took a while to find our way out of the rain.”

“It doesn’t get much better than this,” Bryon said, nodding towards the window. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but we had one of our cooks quit a few days ago, and I’ve paid my dues behind that grill. You wouldn’t be looking for work, would you?” As I thought about his offer for a moment, he continued. “Anyone with a young pup like this one,” he said, swooping Sierra off her feet and into his arms, “is someone I wouldn’t mind having around. You interested in flippin’ a few burgers?”

My mind suddenly turned philosophical. Drop in for a meal—stay for a lifetime. Ever realize what ultimately happens in our lives, what creates our destiny, comes down to the simplest choices we make? Every minute of every day, that’s really all we do, is make choices. Most are mundane and seemingly insignificant, made on autopilot. In and of themselves, they appear to have little or no consequence in our lives: stopping at stop signs, going to the market, getting a haircut. But every once in a while, the seemingly insignificant choices we make, sometimes end up changing the course of our lives forever. It’s when you look back at these presumably random choices and realize that they’ve taken on a life of their own, that’s when I start to wonder who’s really in charge. As much as I’d like to lay claim to being the architect of my own destiny, somehow being hungry and in the mood for a hamburger just doesn’t seem to qualify as a life-altering decision. But the simple act of walking into Hodad’s changed my life forever.

Just then, the beautiful auburn-haired waitress came around the corner and chimed in before I’d had a chance to answer Bryon. “If you don’t stay, at least leave this adorable pup here with us. I’m in love with her.” Sierra slid out of Bryon’s lap and wedged herself between Jennifer’s beautiful, tanned athletic legs.

“We come as a matched pair,” I said, surprising myself. She flashed another smile. My second meltdown didn’t surprise either of us.

I started work the next morning amidst friendly people, good food, lots of cold drinks and, of course, Jennifer was there. I didn’t have the balls to look her in the eye, or even talk to her. Being in the same zip code was as close to intimacy as I could handle. I knew she felt something between us, but she didn’t push it. As the days liquefied into sunsets, the nights into weeks, and the weeks into months, Sierra became our common bond. Jennifer poured her love into that dog, and somehow, for now, that was enough … or at least so I thought. After my shift, if Jennifer hadn’t taken Sierra to the beach or home with her for the night, we’d walk the beach or drive over the hill to Point Loma. During the winter the landings and shipyards were mostly deserted at night, so we’d walk along the boardwalks. Occasionally we ducked under gates or around half-torn-down chain link fences to get out onto the docks. Sometimes we’d startle a blue heron or an errant harbor seal that had claimed a dock finger for the night.

There was nothing like being down by the water. The rough commercial docks and sport boats held an interest for me that’s hard to describe. There’s magnetism about workboats and the people who run them. Those men and women are a unique breed. As a kid, I looked at the captains and crews of the commercial boats as if they were gods. My dad, in particular, was bigger than life. He was at sea for weeks at a time, riding out the most vicious storms hundreds of miles from nowhere while I lay trembling in my little bunk, scared to death that our houseboat, tied to the dock, was going to sink right out from under us. How they survived out there was beyond my wildest imagination. They could only be gods.

So Sierra and I walked the docks at night, looking at the boats, listening to their stories.

It had been six months since I started working at Hodad’s. Years ago, the garage behind the place had been converted into a studio, and when the couple who had been living there moved out, Sierra and I moved in. It was set off from the rest of the house by an ancient wisteria hedge that covered the patio and worked its way along the overhead lattice in a seamless twisted system of thick vines and rich green foliage. When in bloom, it filled the air with an aroma so sweet it melted your senses. A large opaque skylight built into the roof of the old open-beamed ceiling allowed soft filtered ambient sunlight to fill the room. It was simple and clean. Facing the far side of the garden, and hidden from both the alley and rest of the house, a bathroom had been framed into the corner. The shower opened to the garden. Showering felt like standing under a waterfall in the midst of a tropical rainforest.

The only drawback was that whenever someone didn’t show up for work, Bryon knew my commute was a no-brainer. I was on call 24/7, a small price to pay for free rent. Besides the beach and my long walks with Sierra, working at Hodad’s was my life. There was enough social interaction to feel connected, but not threatened. Catching a glimpse of Jennifer looking at me every once in a while was enough to keep my imagination ignited so that maybe some day, somehow, we could share more than our love for the same dog. I had no complaints. In fact, it even started to feel like home.

Evidently, Karyn had filed for divorce shortly after I had left Seattle. I guess she and Shane had some big plans for the future. “Screw ’em,” I had told Grandpa during a phone call when he informed me the papers had been delivered to the cannery months earlier. He’d been holding all my mail, because no one knew where to reach me.

“She wants everything,” he said, “your boat, the furniture—everything you guys had …” His voice trailed off.

“She destroyed everything we had.” I took a deep breath and waited for the pain I’d been running from to re-surface. Surprisingly, it didn’t. “She can have it all. I don’t care. I’m done with the both of them.”

“If that’s the way you feel, and I don’t blame you,” Grandpa said, “then you should sign these papers. I’ll mail everything down to you.”

Then Grandma got on the line. “We’ve been real worried about you, sweetheart. When are you coming home?”

Grandpa and Grandma had lived in the same house for over fifty years. It would always be the center of their universe, but I knew if I went back up there, I’d be lost forever.

Without giving her a direct answer, I said, “Grandma, don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine. I love you. Bye.”

I’d been talking on the pay phone outside the back door of the kitchen and hadn’t heard Jennifer come up behind me. When I hung up, she was right there.

“Overhearing part of that conversation,” she said, holding me with her eyes, “I just learned more about you in sixty seconds than I’ve learned in the past six months.” The penetrating, unwavering look in her eyes demanded more. “I want to know who you are. I’ve been waiting patiently, but it’s time.” She wasn’t about to apologize for eavesdropping.

Since the day Sierra and I walked into Hodad’s and first laid eyes on her, I’d felt an undeniable attraction between us. Other than that lame comment when we first met about Sierra and me coming as a matched pair, I’d done my best to avoid her—averting her eyes whenever we worked together, which was almost every day. She would brush by me in the kitchen, her scent leaving me light-headed. Reaching in for a condiment or something over my shoulder, she’d touch my arm, sending electricity surging between us. At the mere sight of her, my heart leapt into my throat, choking off anything clever I might be able to come up with, so I’d just kept my head down and let Sierra do all our talking.

But now she wanted more. I didn’t know what to say, so in typical chicken-shit male fashion, I turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, glaring at me as I headed toward the sanctuary of the kitchen where I found Bryon. “Hey, Boss-man, I need some time off.”

He nodded okay while swirling a damp cloth over a little spot of spilled Thousand Island dressing. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” he said, not looking for a response as Sierra and I headed out the door.

Shaking her head, Jennifer wiped the saltwater from her eyes. The waves weren’t anything to write home about, but it didn’t matter. Just being in the water, playing with whatever size swell the gods served up was enough for her. She didn’t need big waves to get off. But it was getting late, so instead of waiting for another set, she decided to catch the next small wave. She rode it long after it broke, staying ahead of the white water, all the way onto the sand.

“You had some nice rides,” one of the locals said, flirting with her as she walked by carrying her board.

“Thanks,” she answered with that smile of hers, and with a friendly nod she kept walking up the beach. She’d been surfing at Blacks, and with hardly any traffic on Pacific Coast Highway, the drive back to Ocean Beach from La Jolla took only a few minutes.

Sierra and I had been gone now for over two weeks. If it hadn’t been for the water, she wasn’t sure what she would have done. The ocean was her sanctuary. Her bliss. She’d replayed those last few minutes over and over again in her mind, trying to figure out what she’d done to drive me away. It was eating her alive inside. It had been so long since she’d even allowed herself to feel anything for someone, and poof, just like that, I was gone. Gone before we’d even … even had a chance. Why do relationships always have to be so fucking hard?

Change comes easily for some, with difficulty for others. For me, change was a nightmare. I hated it. The betrayal. The pain. The emptiness. I would have died if it hadn’t been for Sierra. But I was slowly and painfully beginning to accept the cold hard fact that the only constant in life is change. So deal. Eventually I had to, because I was running out of money—again—and had to get back to work.

The second we pulled up in front of Hodad’s and Sierra saw Jennifer coming out the front door, she leapt out of the passenger side window and raced across the front yard directly into her waiting arms. Watching them together as I finished parking and shut off the motor was like watching two best friends who hadn’t seen each other in years. They rolled around on the grass like a couple of kids. Sierra’s tail wagged a hundred miles an hour as she tried to lick Jennifer all over her face. Jen’s hair was flying everywhere, and she was laughing hysterically. I walked around the truck, leaned against the front quarter panel and waited. After awhile they just collapsed, breathing hard, Sierra’s head on Jennifer’s chest. You could actually see the smile on that dog’s face.

Finally, Jennifer spoke to me. With her eyes still closed and her face towards the sun, her voice was soft, but her words iron. “I should kill you for taking Sierra and dropping off the face of the planet like that. You’re such an asshole.” Her words hung in the air. “The only thing I haven’t been able to figure out is how a self-centered, emotionally retarded pendejo like you could raise a dog like this. It defies logic.” Sierra rolled toward Jennifer, demanding more attention again. “Keeping my baby away from me like this,” she added, ruffling Sierra’s ears. “You’re no different from the rest of them.” Addressing Sierra, she said, “Come on, girl. Let’s go inside and see what we’ve got for you. I bet you’re starving. You look so skinny. Did he even bother to feed you?”

They headed for the front door, leaving me standing there by myself, her words hanging in the air. I’d never heard her talk like that, never heard her curse before.

It was late afternoon. The place was deserted. As I pushed open the screen door and looked around, Jennifer and Sierra were nowhere to be seen. Most likely in the kitchen, I thought. Suddenly Jennifer came up from behind, wrapped her arms around me and pulled her face into my back. She held me there, squeezing hard, not moving or saying a word. I started to turn towards her, but she squeezed tighter, holding her ground, not wanting me to face her.

“Don’t move,” she whispered. “Don’t say a word.” I could feel her warm breath through my T-shirt as she confided, “I just want to hold you.”

Her touch consumed me. It had been so long I’d forgotten what a woman’s touch could do to your soul. I stood transfixed, soaking it all in, allowing her embrace to absorb my every thought. The world around us slowly came to a stop. I reached back, gently pulling her around, her head now against my chest. We still hadn’t made eye contact. Neither of us spoke. We just held each other, holding on to what we were both so afraid of losing.

Finally she murmured, “Don’t ever do that again.” I immediately let go, thinking she didn’t want me holding her. The moment she felt me let go, she spun around and walked away, hissing at the floor, “Men are so fucking stupid.”

Baffled, I didn’t hesitate and followed her through the kitchen and out to the garden. She sat on the side of the cement planter with her back towards me. “What are you so mad about? What did I do?”

“If you can’t figure it out, then just go fuck yourself,” she said without looking up. “It’s probably what you do best anyway.”

“Jennifer—”

“Don’t Jennifer me, you prick! You disappear for weeks … take Sierra … you don’t call. Nothing. You just up and vanish. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. You never even said good-bye.”

“I told Bryon I needed a little time off.”

Her eyes on the ground, she slowly started shaking her head as if she’d come to a painful conclusion. I thought I saw a tear hit the grass. “Then you came strolling back like you’d never even left … like nothing ever happened. Like it was no big deal.” She tried to force down her tears, but couldn’t.

“Jennifer—” My heart ached seeing her cry.

“Don’t say anything. Just leave me alone.”

I was still baffled. “I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

“Get away from me. Just leave me alone.”

“Jennifer,” I pleaded, stepping closer to her, “I’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re one of the only friends I have.”

“Friends!” she snapped through clenched teeth, staring at me for the first time. “Is that all I am to you?” she asked, astonishment blurring her pain. “I mean it!” she hissed. “Get out of here and leave me alone!”

She buried her face in her hands, turning away, sobbing. Her pain shot through my heart. I dropped to my knees and reached for her. She didn’t resist. It felt as if she had given up. Her tears pushed me over the black abyss I’d been so afraid of. Without a second’s hesitation, I pulled her into my arms, squeezed her against me, and held her for all I was worth. Neither of us moved as time stood still. Her tears eventually slowed, our breathing calmed, but our hearts still raced. We were both so afraid, instinctively knowing that whatever happened next would change our lives forever.

Words were not an option.

Silently … ever so cautiously … we allowed our bodies to do what our minds couldn’t. We allowed our souls to touch … to entwine. Ever so slowly, we began breathing in each other’s being.

The soft afternoon light gently filtered through the giant Chinese elm covering the garden. Random rays of sunshine caught the highlights of Jennifer’s sun-bleached hair. The sweet smell of wisteria filled the air. A dove’s cooing blended with the faint sounds filtering in from around us. Nothing else mattered. We were together, so afraid to let go, and still … too afraid to speak.

After Seattle, I didn’t think I’d ever say the words I heard myself whispering, but there they were. Without a second thought, without effort or a moment’s hesitation, they flowed from my heart. “I love you, Jennifer. I love you and don’t want to ever spend another minute without you.” Before I knew what was happening, tears streamed down my cheeks, breaking open the dam I’d been hiding behind for so long. “I love you,” I whispered over and over again through my tears.

The next thing I knew we were lying on the grass. Jennifer had me cradled in her arms, rocking me like a child, whispering softly, “I love you so much.” The only other sound I could hear was the steady beating of her heart. The pain I’d been running from—had kept buried so deep inside—was dissolving with every beat. In its place feelings of overwhelming contentment and peace came flooding in. Secure in her arms, I felt safe again. No longer alone. A sense of belonging, of oneness, swept over me, filling me with the knowledge that love had somehow found its way back into my life … into my heart … into my very being. Totally surrendering to each other, we transcended time and found ourselves in a place that comes only to those who are willing to give themselves totally.

Somehow, we managed to find our way from Hodad’s to her beach cottage a few blocks away. We must have walked, but I can’t remember a single step. Everything was a blur. I know we made love for hours, because I remember gaining consciousness just long enough to realize it was pitch dark. At some point Jennifer must have lit candles, which were still burning, but now paled by the first rays of sunlight creeping into the room. Dawn’s light awakened our bodies long enough for us to melt into each other again. We couldn’t get enough of each other. Surrendering all thought, our bodies had taken control. We were now one. It was as if our bodies were telling us that living apart was no longer an option. We joyously surrendered to the unquenchable thirst of our souls. The more we made love, the more we wanted each other. With every new touch, our passion burned hotter and hotter. It was total and complete surrender. We’d both been waiting our entire lives for this moment, without any assurances it would ever come.

I had tasted love before, but nothing I’d ever experienced even came close to this. Everything paled in comparison. Seattle seemed like a distant childhood dream. This was all consuming, complete and absolute. A love beyond words. A oneness beyond the union of mere mortals. This was communion with God.

The morning light continued filling the room with its warming golden gift, gently filtering through the lace curtains, teasing our eyelids.

“I was afraid this was never going to happen,” Jennifer whispered tenderly, her head resting on my chest, our legs entwined, our bodies finally at rest. “God knows, I prayed it would.” Her voice trailed off. “But you were so far away.”

She was right. Ever since my life had been shattered in Seattle, I’d been scared shitless. I’d shrouded myself in a suit of armor. I totally shut down. My body went into self-defense mode, born out of survival and raw fear—function, dysfunction and compensation.

But last night, somehow, Jennifer had melted that armor away. I could actually breathe again. “Thank you,” I whispered.

“Thank you …” she whispered back. “When we first met, I thought, maybe …” She shook her head slightly. “But then … I realized there was nothing anyone could do. I just had to wait.”

“If I’d had any idea you felt like this,” I teased, reaching up under her breast and pulling her closer to my lips, kissing her forehead, “do you think I would have waited?”

She pressed my hand against her heart. “God knows I wanted to tell you how I felt … to hold you … to feel your arms around me. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than to pull you out of that train wreck. I could see it in your eyes … feel it in your voice. The fear. The pain. Always right there, just below the surface. Dominating your life. I could see it in the way you moved, in everything you did, except when you were playing with Sierra. There’s nothing harder in the world to do than find a way to let go of our fears … to find a way to trust again. But the instant we do, our lives are transformed forever.”

Let go of our fears, and we let go of pain.

I felt a tear drip off her cheek, landing smack dab in the middle of my soul.

She continued in a soft voice, just above a whisper. “But you never let on, or said a word. You just smiled from behind your sad eyes and kept going. Kept up a friendly front, doing your job. I knew someone had to have ripped your heart out, and it was all you could do to hold on. If you were ever going to crawl out from whatever hole you were hiding in, you were going to have to climb out on your own. As much as I wanted to dive in there and pull you out, it would never have worked. You weren’t ready for me, for love, for anyone, for that matter.”

Her tears flowed warm against my skin, but her voice remained steady. “Watching you with Sierra these past months is what gave me hope.”