PIER 22
The autumn has brought the darkness
early, so even though it is only seven o'clock, it feels to
Brent like
it is much later in the night. He is standing out on the pier, beside the
restaurant, keeping his eye out for Sarah.
He told her to meet in front
of the restaurant, but this is more the setting he had in mind.
He allows himself to turn slightly
and the moonlight catches his attention. It is hitting the surface of the
water at just the right angle that it has been splayed all over the bay.
He can't remember the last time he
sat back and enjoyed -- allowed himself to enjoy -- something so simple.
The last months, the past year, maybe even more, all feels like he has
been trapped inside a box, running the same routine over and over and struggling
to maintain just enough balance to keep himself from going absolutely insane.
Maybe that will end tonight,
he thinks as a reluctant glimmer of hope surges in his chest.
Somehow he finds the thought almost
impossible to swallow. Can this even end? Will it ever?
The very thought of setting things
straight makes him even more determined to see that tonight is a success.
"Brent!"
The call travels over the pier to
him, and the voice alerts him that the game is on. Here goes nothing ...
everything.
Sarah strides quickly across the
pier to him. Brent notices that she manages a fast, steady pace despite
the high heels of her boots. She is wearing a fitted pair of jeans and
a long, black sweater worn open, its tie dangling casually by her sides,
with a black t-shirt underneath. Her hair falls neatly around her shoulders.
For a moment, Brent is able to appreciate her as a very attractive woman
without thinking about everything that has happened.
For a moment.
As she comes closer, he is all too
aware that this is Sarah. Her face wears the hopeful expression that he
has been wishing would not make an appearance tonight.
"Hey," she says as she stops in front
of him. "What are you doing out here? I was about to go in the restaurant
when I saw someone standing out here. If I hadn't looked again, I wouldn't
have realized it was you."
"Hi," he says civilly. "Actually,
out here is good. You're not cold, are you?"
She shakes her head, in spite of
having folded her arms in front of her. "Not really, no. Why? What's going
on?"
He glances around, back out at the
water and then over at the restaurant, where the dinner crowd is streaming
in and out. You're so close. Just do it.
"Brent?" she asks again, impatiently.
"What's going on? Why did you want me to meet you?"
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