June 16th, 1990 I stumbled into my apartment, dropping the stack of bills on my kitchen table. They merged seamlessly with the other bills and junk mail, all waiting for me to be responsible and look at them. Nothing I was hoping for had come in the mail. I closed the door and kicked off my shoes, letting my toes stretch out and relax. I had been home for a week and was missing the beach terribly. No, I didn't miss the beach. I missed Dean. Six days, eight hours, and thirty-seven minutes since I had seen him last. And I had no idea how to fill the hole that was growing in my heart. I leaned back against the door, closing my eyes and remembering his face. Maybe a letter would come tomorrow. I had sent one off two days ago, carefully checking and then double-checking the address. It had been hard to write, not knowing where to start and then not knowing where to curb my words. I wanted to tell him that he was all I could think about, that I would wait for him to come back if he wanted
June 20th, 1990 I gripped my sketchbook tightly, making sure for the third time that I still had the designs from the night before. I had no idea what Mrs. Saunders looked like, how far along in her pregnancy she was, or what her build might be. I had sketched out a couple more maternity designs, but without meeting her, I didn't want to create too many, but I needed enough to impress. Mr. Martinez walked calmly in front of me, easily navigating the huge apartment building as we headed toward what he called "Mrs. Saunders' sun-room". The apartment was huge; bigger than what I would consider a house. I had a feeling the oil business, at least for the Saunders and DS Oil and Gas, was doing well. I was trying my very best not to be overwhelmed by everything, and I felt like I was doing a pretty good job. Mr. Martinez and I had arrived by a private plane and then drove straight into the city to the Saunders' household. I couldn't wait to go out and explore the city after my interview.
June 20th, 1990 Down at street level, I got into the waiting car and stared out the window. The driver was silent as I headed back to my hotel, and my mind was on designs rather than the giant buildings when something caught my eye. A young boy, about five or six years old, was walking resolutely along the sidewalk. He stopped, setting down a brightly-wrapped present, and pulled out an oversized map, his small face frowning as he tried to read it. The boy obviously was trying to get somewhere to deliver the gift, but I couldn't see an adult with him. I watched him for a moment as we sat at a light, wondering why he looked vaguely familiar. I gasped as it hit me where I had seen the boy before. He was the laughing child in the pictures on Mrs. Saunders' wall. His mother would be worried sick if she knew he was out on the streets of New York by himself. "Stop the car!" I shouted, unbuckling my seat-belt and practically lunging for the door. The driver looked back at me in surprise, b
Present Day The drive was just as awkward as I was afraid it was going to be. I drove carefully, heading down the highway to the small town on the Atlantic coast. The county jail was only a couple of blocks from the marina. I had, unfortunately, been there to pick Robbie up for public intoxication. Twice. The hospital was only a few streets down from that; luckily, I had never been there, but it would be easy enough to find. Dean sat comfortably in the passenger seat, his long legs crossed as he looked out the window. We had started out making polite conversation, remarking on the weather- it was supposed to rain later- and how the football season was going. Neither one of us really had the time to follow sports, so that was a short conversation. I didn't really want to discuss the current situation with Dean, and anything regarding the Saunders family was dangerous due to Daniel's condition. Our usually easy conversations, just didn't seem to flow. Our minds were elsewhere. As a re
Present Day I pulled into the parking lot attached to an old wooden building with small windows that looked exactly like a small town police station in the movies. Dean sat quietly for a moment, as if debating saying something. Inside the darkened glass door with white lettering, I could see a man in a grayish tan uniform sitting at a desk filling out paperwork. "I'll get the paperwork started while you're at the hospital. I'll call if we finish before you," Dean said. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something more, but instead changed his mind, pushing his lips together and opening the car door. I watched him walk into the station, his movements full of an unconscious deadly grace that can only come with years of practice. His hands opened the door, and I remembered how they had felt on my cheek. I took a deep breath. I couldn't think about that kiss right now, the way his hand cupped my jaw, the sweetness of his tongue... Stop it! You have work to do! I chided myself.
Present Day I parked carefully in front of the police station, making sure I was evenly between the two lines. Just because Dean said he knew the sheriff, I didn't want to push my luck. I just wanted to get Robbie out with as little fanfare as possible and get him home to see his father. The door chimed softly as I walked in. It was a small building, barely more than a room and an office, with two barred cells along the back wall. Sitting in one of them was a very dejected-looking Robbie. He glanced up as I came in, and then put his head back in his hands to stare at the floor. Dean was leaning up against the chest-high wooden monstrosity of a desk, talking with a man in a crisp tan uniform. "How were things at the hospital?" Dean asked, and all three men looked up to hear my answer. "Samantha's doing fine. She's agreed not to press charges," I stated. I heard a low sigh of relief come from the cell. "May I talk with Robbie?" "Yes, ma'am, you may. Dean and I here just have a few
Present Day Robbie passed me as I walked down the hallway toward Daniel's room. His eyes were still rimmed with red, and his lips were pursed together as he walked the ornate carpet, his mind lost in thought. I don't think he even saw me as he paced back and forth down the long hallway. I wasn't sure he had even been in to see his father since we had brought him home, but at least he was in the house. I knocked softly before entering the large room that had become Daniel's infirmary. A large hospital bed took up the center of the room, an oxygen tank and an IV pole tucked carefully beside them. Bianca sat in a large easy chair in the corner, her feet tucked up under her as she typed on her laptop. I could hear soft classical music, playing softly in the background. Knowing Daniel, it was probably Mozart. Daniel sat propped up in the bed, pillows and blankets tucked tightly around him. His pale face was so gaunt that his eyes seemed to sink into his paper thin skin. I remembered the
Present Day I had intended to go to a rustic Italian restaurant just a few miles from the Saunders' mansion. I had intended to walk in, sit down, eat lasagna and tiramisu, have a glass of wine, and then head back and take a long hot shower. That was what I had intended. Instead, I was standing in front of Dean's apartment building. I could see a light coming from his corner unit, the yellow window shining cheerfully into the dark night. The wind blew across the yard, rattling the remaining leaves on the trees and making the fallen ones skitter across the sidewalk. The moon hung low, orange and full against the night sky. I was about to go back to my car, to drive to that little restaurant and actually do what I was supposed to do, but the memory of that kiss pulled at me. Now that we had kissed, even just once, I wanted more. Before I even knew what I was doing, my hand was knocking at his door. I looked down at the brave appendage in shock, wondering what the hell I was thinking.