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Startled, Susan spun around. She somehow wasn’t surprised to find the man from the beach standing a few paces behind her. He had changed into khaki pants, a pale green shirt, and a brown sport coat. He held a set of keys in one hand and his hair was still damp from a recent washing. He looked from Susan to her car and back again.
“I bet you only have one spare tire,” he said.
“I don’t even know,” Susan said. The sadness she’d felt on the balcony threatened to overtake her again. She turned away from the man so he wouldn’t see her eyes water.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and she felt him step closer.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“I can help you with your tires,” he offered. “We can take one off, put the spare on, get that tire fixed, then do it again for the other side. Nothing will be open until morning, though.”
Susan shook her head. “My insurance has roadside assistance. They’ll just tow the stupid thing,” she said, and her voice hitched. She pressed fists into her thighs. Her dating profile description proudly said she was a strong, independent woman. She sure didn’t feel like that right now.
“I was on my way to get dinner,” the man said. “I’d be glad to have you come with me.”
Susan raised her face and saw stars in the dark sky above her. She thought, Great, now he’s hitting on me. Trying to be the knight in shining armor. Or wool, or whatever that sport coat is made of. She said, “Thanks, but I guess not. I’ll just order room service.”
“That’s so expensive,” he said, and she heard that it was a spontaneous thing. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly. “It’s expensive on my budget. And I wouldn’t want to eat alone in my room. Really, I’d like to have some company. I see you’re from Wyoming, so we’re both tourists here. We can share stories about what brought us to the Oregon coast.”
She turned her head enough to give him a sidelong look.
“Oh. Yeah,” he said, and grinned. “I guess I know what brought you here.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “And you’re here to collect decorations for your science classroom,” Susan said.
He chuckled, a low, soft, comfortable sound. “Well, that’s just a side benefit,” he said.
“Then what really brought you here?”
He shrugged and gave her a helpless look. “I can only divulge that over some authentic coastal seafood.”
Susan laughed and turned more toward him.
“I didn’t want to play the you-owe-me card, but you did kind of cover me in your parents’ remains,” he said. “I think granting me your company for the evening is the least you could do after I swallowed what was probably a finger or toe or something.”
“Oh my God,” Susan said, but she laughed. “You’ve got kind of a sick sense of humor.”
“That has been said before,” he said. “My car is just over there. Don’t judge me by it. It’s a rental.” He motioned behind Susan with the hand holding keys and she heard a car’s electronic beep as he pushed the button on his key fob.
“I can’t get into a car with a man who hasn’t even given me his name,” Susan said. She was surprised to hear herself agreeing to go with this man, but after the initial shock, she decided it wasn’t such a bad thing.
“Mark Preston,” he said, extending a hand.
Susan took the hand. It was warm and soft, with a firm grip that let her know he understood he was shaking the hand of a lady. “Susan Thompson,” she said.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Mark said. “And now, your chariot awaits.”
“Lead on, good man,” she said. “You are a good man, aren’t you? You’re not going to kill me and throw me in the ocean?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. Susan felt sure he had been about to make a joke, then thought better of it. He gave a serious kind of smile. “I promise to deliver you back to this parking lot, unharmed but fed, before the clock strikes midnight.”
“Okay,” she said. She was still reluctant, though he did seem like a nice guy. But didn’t all serial killers seem like nice guys until the murder started? She followed him to a tiny white Chevrolet hatchback, where he opened her door and closed it once she was inside. She snickered a little as he folded himself behind the wheel. “Couldn’t you get a smaller car?” she asked.
He started the engine, then looked at her. “I actually got kinda irate with the Enterprise lady,” he said. “I’d reserved a mid-size car, but once I got to the airport, all they had left were economy-size cars. It was this or nothing, despite my reservation.”
“Customer service isn’t what it used to be,” Susan said. Then she laughed. “I sound like my mom.”
Mark backed the car out of the spot and shifted it into drive. “That’s unavoidable with women, I believe,” he said. Then quickly, as if to cover up a mistake, he added, “There’s a place right up the hill that looked pretty nice. Unless you want to go into town. I really don’t know what’s available.”
“I don’t either,” Susan confessed. “This place is fine.”
The place turned out to be a huge restaurant that appeared to be built from old, dark logs in the style of a lodge with big windows. As soon as they stepped inside, Susan knew they were in over their heads. Especially her. She felt underdressed in her jeans and T-shirt when every other woman she could see was wearing a dress or skirt.
“Is there a dress code?” she whispered to Mark while the hostess helped an elderly couple ahead of them.
“No idea,” Mark whispered back. “Do you want to get out?”
But it was too late. The hostess, a young woman in her early twenties, was smiling warmly at them and welcoming them. “Will there just be the two of you?” she asked.
“Yes,” Mark answered.
Susan leaned closer to the hostess and asked, “Is there a dress code? I didn’t know we were going somewhere so fancy.”
The girl smiled at her with perfect teeth. “You’re fine, ma’am. There’s no official dress code. It’s Tuesday and we get mostly locals and they like to dress up.”
Susan chewed her lip in consternation. “Okay,” she said.
The hostess, who wore a white dress shirt and black slacks, which made Susan feel better for just a minute, led them through a labyrinth of well-dressed diners to a small round table beside a window looking out over the water. She smiled at them and left them with big folded menus. A waiter appeared before Susan or Mark could even unfold the menus.
“I’m Tommy and I’ll be your server tonight,” he said. He was dressed like the hostess and Susan watched his eyes take in her stonewashed jeans. Did he really wrinkle his nose? The motion came and went so fast she wasn’t sure she’d seen it. “What can I get you to drink tonight?” he asked.
Mark looked at her to indicate the lady should order first. Susan looked quickly at the menu but felt rushed and couldn’t even find the drink section. “Can I get a red wine?” she asked.
“Of course,” Tommy answered.
“And a glass of water?” she added.
“Certainly. And you, sir?” he turned his attention to Mark.
“I’ll have the same,” Mark said.
Tommy bowed quickly and spun on his heel to hurry away.
“I think he wrinkled his nose at me,” Susan said.
Mark laughed softly. “I don’t think so.”
“Did you know this place was so fancy?”
“No. I’m sorry,” he said. “But you look fine. Don’t worry about it. We’re here to eat, not win a fashion show.”
Susan looked around without trying to be obvious. All the men wore coats, most with ties, and every female customer was in a dress or skirt. She turned her attention back to Mark and was glad he at least wasn’t wearing a tie. “I guess,” she said. “I didn’t even bring a dress. I expected to eat alone and not anywhere so fancy.”
“You’re thinking too much about this,” Mark said. “Tell me about yourself. Where do you live in Wyoming?”
“In Casper,” she said, trying hard not to look around them. Her eyes finally returned to the window and the natural scenery beyond it. The sea was black except where it rolled onto the shore in frothy white waves that glistened in the lights from the highway. She watched it for a minute and it calmed her soul and gave her a sense of peace. “I rent a little house in Casper,” she said. “Not too far from where my parents lived.”
“A hometown girl,” Mark said, and smiled reassuringly at her.
“I wanted to move away and see the world,” she said. “But there was a guy who didn’t want to move. A husband,” she said, and it felt like a confession. “He couldn’t leave his girlfriend, it turned out. Then, when I got over that, Mom was diagnosed with cancer and I couldn’t leave. She passed, and Dad followed not long after.”
Mark nodded sympathetically. “I’m really sorry,” he said. “What about now? Will you stay in the hometown?”
Susan looked back out the window quickly. “I don’t know,” she said. “I have to decide what to do with their house.”
Mark leaned forward as if sharing a conspiracy. “Tommy is coming back and we haven’t looked at the menu yet.”
Susan laughed and they both opened the menus. “Eating fish usually means fried catfish or Long John Silver’s,” she said.
“Same,” Mark agreed. “I think I’ll go with this cod. I recognize that name.”
Tommy reappeared carrying a silver tray. From the tray, he put two glasses of ice water on the table, then two long-stemmed glasses, each three-quarters full with a deep red wine. He also placed a basket of warm rolls and two plastic cups of butter on the table. Susan and Mark told him their orders, Susan ordering the cod filets with fries and coleslaw and Mark getting the same. Tommy took their menus and disappeared again. There was a moment of awkward silence. Susan broke it.
“You said collecting shells and starfish for your classroom was just an extra thing you’re doing in Oregon,” she said. “What is the real reason you’re here?” She took a roll from the basket and pulled it open to butter it, but mostly kept her eyes on the man across from her.
He grinned sheepishly, and Susan couldn’t help but think it was cute. “Do you read much?” he asked as he, too, took a roll.
“A little. Not as much as I should,” Susan admitted.
“Have you ever read The Lord of the Rings?”
“No, but I saw the movies.”
He nodded. “Those are amazing, but they left some things out. After the war, Legolas and Gimli become best friends and travel together. They go to the ocean, and Legolas falls in love with it and after that all he wants to do is return to it. That made me want to see the ocean. I also loved books like Treasure Island and Moby Dick. So, this year, I decided I would see the ocean for myself.”
“Don’t most people go south for that?” Susan asked, covering her mouth to hide that it was full of bread. “Warm weather, swimming in the ocean, surfing, all that?”
Mark nodded and chewed quickly. “I wanted fog and cool weather. The north,” he said.
Susan laughed. “You sound more like an English teacher.” She sipped her wine and it was as rich and good as it looked. She wondered what the cost was for the single glass.
“I’ve always been a nerd,” he admitted. “Science won. I love the stories, but never really cared about the symbolism and all those other things English professors love so much. I like blowing things up and looking at other planets and making kids cut open baby pigs.”
“Eww. That’s gross,” Susan said. “We had to do kittens and I wouldn’t do it. I just wrote down the notes.”
“One of those,” Mark teased. “What’s your line of work? How do you pay your bills?”
“I’m a writer,” she said. She watched his eyebrows raise the way most people’s did. She shook her head. “Not what you think,” she added. “I’m a copywriter. People and companies pay me to write blogs and other web copy. Sometimes I’ll do a real author’s back-cover copy, but that’s as close as I’ve ever gotten to a book.”
“But you’ve got a book idea you want to write, don’t you?” he asked.
Susan felt her face flushing. She looked down at the table and shifted her silverware a little. “Yes.”
“A romance novel?”
“No. A murder mystery about a woman who finds bones when she starts digging for a backyard vegetable garden. She finds out the last person to live in the house was a serial killer who never got caught and died of old age, but the man who thinks he’s the murderer’s son is really the child of one of the victims.” Susan stopped talking and gave a half smile. “Kind of dumb, huh?”
“Not at all,” Mark said. “I’d read it. And I’d tell everybody I know the author.”
Susan laughed softly. “If I only had the time.”
“Do you have to have a college degree to do copywriting?” Mark asked.
“I suppose not, but I do,” Susan said. “BA in journalism from the U. of Wyoming, Casper campus. I didn’t even leave home for college.”
He studied her for a long moment, his face curious, maybe a little sad. “Is this your first time away from home?”
Susan laughed softly. “No. I mean, I’ve been on vacations before. But I’ve never lived anywhere other than Casper, Wyoming.”
“Is it a bad town?”
“No, not really. It’s just ...”
“We all have that wanderlust,” Mark suggested. “I know the feeling. I’ve moved around a little in Oklahoma, but I’ve never lived in a different state. Never more than about a hundred miles from where I grew up. Little vacations here and there. Tell me, where would you live if you could live anywhere?”
Susan sipped her wine, which prompted him to do the same while he waited on her answer. “I don’t know. There are so many places I want to see. But, I think I could live here and watch the ocean every day.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Mark said, and saluted her with his glass before taking another drink. “This is good wine. Do you think people living here wish they were somewhere else?”
“Probably,” Susan said, grinning. “But I doubt they dream of living in Casper.”
“Or Ponca City, Oklahoma,” he agreed.
Tommy arrived with the food. He took platters off a big tray he put on a collapsable stand. When he straightened after putting Mark’s plate down, he whipped out a long brown cylindrical object and aimed it at Susan. She felt herself back away and knew her eyes widened. “Fresh-ground pepper?” Tommy asked.
“What?” Susan asked.
“Would you like fresh-ground pepper on your coleslaw?” he asked.
“Oh. Yes, please,” she said, still a little shaken by the sudden appearance of what she now recognized as a very large pepper grinder. Tommy twisted his end a few times and black flakes rained down onto her coleslaw. “That’s enough. Thank you,” Susan said.
Tommy repeated the process with Mark, then asked if they needed anything else. Susan and Mark both told him no. “Enjoy your meal,” he said, and rushed off to another table.
“He scared you a little,” Mark said as he took up his fork. He chuckled as he said it.
“Where did that pepper grinder even come from?” Susan asked. “It was just all of a sudden there, pointing at me.”
“I think he wears it at his hip like an Old West gunslinger,” Mark teased.
“Haha,” Susan said, but she smiled. “This looks amazing.”
They ate quietly for a while. It was the best fish Susan had ever eaten and she wondered how she’d ever go back to fast food fish or inland catfish. The fries were crisp on the outside and soft and flaky inside the crust. The coleslaw was crunchy and, she decided, had just the right amount of pepper. She thought of her friends and how they often posted pictures of restaurant meals on their social media. She kind of wished she’d done that, but it was too late. Nobody wanted to see a half-eaten cod filet.
“Did you just get here today?” Mark asked after a while.
Susan shook her head and swallowed. “I got here yesterday, but it was almost dark. How about you?”
“This morning. Just about a few hours before we met.”
“You were in a hurry to get to the water,” she said.
“I’ve waited a long time,” he said. “I plan to be back out there first thing in the morning to see what the tide leaves on the beach.”
“Like a treasure hunt?” Susan said, and it was her turn to have a teasing tone.
Mark leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I’m hoping for dubloons.”
Susan whispered back, “But you’ll settle for starfish.”
He leaned back and laughed out loud. “Sadly, yes. Yes, I will.”
Tommy returned to the table. “Is everything still okay?” he asked. Susan and Mark both said everything was fine. “Then I’ll just leave this with you and I’ll be your cashier when you’re ready.” He put a small faux leather folder on the table, then spun on his heel and vanished.
Mark casually but quickly picked up the folder, opened it, and looked at the receipt. He took four twenty dollar bills from his wallet, added them to the folder, then closed it and put it beside his plate.
“We can ask him to split the check,” Susan said. She knew her meal had cost double what she had planned to spend on any one meal, but felt obligated to offer.
“I’ve got it,” Mark said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s expensive,” she argued. “You shouldn’t have to pay for all of this.”
“I’m paying for the meal and the company, and it’s a bargain,” he said.
Susan took a moment to register what he’d said. She felt the blood rushing to her face. “Oh,” she said weakly. “Thank you.” Her mind was screaming at her, He’s flirting with you! What would he want now? Would he expect her to go to his hotel room and pay for her fish dinner with sex?
Susan turned her attention to her plate and didn’t talk while she finished her meal. When she looked up, she saw that Mark was finished, too. He drank the last of his wine and smiled at her. Was it an innocent smile? A knowing smile? Did it mean anything?
“I have to admit that I’m kind of tired, and I want to be up at sunrise,” Mark said. “Would you mind if we go ahead and head out?”
“No, that’s fine,” Susan said. “I’m kind of tired, too. Are you sure I can’t pay for my food?”
“Absolutely sure,” he said.
“Thank you,” Susan said again.
They got up and made their way out of the restaurant. The night air had cooled even more and Susan found herself wishing she’d brought another layer. Then she thought she really hadn’t brought all that many warm clothes. Mark opened the door of his little rental car for her and she slipped into the passenger seat. Her mind went back to his flirtatious comment and she wondered again if he was hoping for something intimate when they got back to the hotel.
Mark folded himself into the driver’s seat and closed his door. He shivered. “It’s cold out there,” he said. “I knew it would be cooler here, but didn’t really think just how much.”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Susan said as he started the car and turned on the heater.
He got them back on the highway for the short drive to the hotel. Susan sat and thought about excuses she could give when he asked her up to his room. Would he believe her if she claimed to have a boyfriend back home in Wyoming? Would he just accept “no” as an answer? Would he make a scene? Call her a slut or a tease? She sneaked a glance at him and saw that he was completely focused on driving. He had a kind face and hadn’t given any indication of being a jerk. But a girl could never be sure.
“Are your parents still alive?” Susan asked.
“Yes, they are,” he said. “They’re retired. Mom has two gardens, one for flowers and one for vegetables. Mostly tomatoes and okra. Dad mostly studies his Bible and watches preachers on TV.”
“Oh,” Susan said. “He’s really into religion?”
“Yeah. It never really took with me,” Mark said. “One of my sisters finally got into it, so Dad has her to talk to about it. Mom isn’t much about it, either.”
“My mom used to grow roses,” Susan said. “They were beautiful. I kind of thought she’d want her ashes to be in her garden, but ... I guess not.”
“No,” he said, and grinned at her as they turned into the hotel parking lot.
Susan couldn’t help but smile despite her nervousness. “It was pretty gross how I coated you in their ashes, wasn’t it?”
He chuckled. “Well, it was shocking. But honestly, how much of the dust we encounter every day is human particles? We’re always shedding skin and hair. Ashes from a cremation aren’t much different.” He parked the car in the closest available slot to the hotel entrance and shut off the engine.
“I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Susan said. “That makes me feel less guilty for it.”
“Really, Susan, don’t worry about it,” he said, and he smiled at her again. It was the first time he’d used her name. She liked it, but it raised another red flag in her mind.
“I guess I should get to my room,” she said, and made herself yawn.
“Me, too. If you wake up early and want to join me on the beach, I’d enjoy the company,” he said.
Susan felt relief wash through her. He didn’t expect her to go to his room. Then she realized he was basically asking to see her again. She considered that, and wasn’t sure how to feel. “I’m not much of a morning person, but we’ll see,” she said. “I do have to get my car taken care of.”
“That’s right. I almost forgot,” he said. “You’ll want to start early on that. Those places can get really busy and take all day sometimes.”
They got out of the car and made their way through the lot to the main entrance of the hotel. Mark stopped just before pushing the door open and looked up to where clouds were moving across the night sky. “So many stars,” he said. Then he blushed as if he had just remembered he wasn’t alone. “Sorry. It’s just that, so far, I’ve loved everything about this place.”
“It’s really pretty amazing,” Susan agreed.
He pushed the door open and let her enter first. They got on the elevator together. The door opened on the third floor and Mark turned to her. “Thank you for a wonderful evening,” he said. “Good luck with your car tomorrow.”
“Thank you, and thanks again for dinner,” Susan said. She wondered if he would lean in and try for a quick kiss, but he didn’t. He gave her one last smile, then stepped out and the elevator doors closed.
Susan sagged against the back wall of the compartment and rode up two more levels to her own floor. It had been a nice evening, and she kind of hated that she’d gotten so nervous about his intentions, but it was just part of being a woman in a strange place with an unknown man. For her, anyway. She guessed there were bolder women who would have dealt with it differently, but she’d never had that kind of confidence. That’s why she’d ended up married to such a jerk.
In her room, she stripped out of her clothes and ran a hot bath. She slipped into the steaming water and turned on the jacuzzi jets, letting the bubbles massage her as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, luxuriating in this sensation she didn’t have at home. She wished for scented candles and maybe another glass of that red wine from dinner. She stayed that way until the water began to cool, then toweled herself off and put on the thick white terrycloth robe the hotel provided. It was soft and warm against her skin.
Susan went to the room’s fireplace and turned on the gas jets. She was a little disappointed it was a gas fireplace with fake logs, but it still looked nice and the heat felt good. Next, she went to her patio and opened the door a little. The rhythmic shushing of the restless ocean filled the room. She was about to step away to find the novel she’d brought and lay on the bed to read when she saw movement outside. Other than the light from the fireplace, her room was still dark, so she pressed her forehead to the cold glass of the door and looked out.
There was a man standing at the top of the stairs leading down to the beach. He seemed to be just looking out over the ocean, a dark, moving mass sparkling with reflections from electric lights on the land and heavenly lights in the sky. He turned his face up to look at the nearly-full moon and Susan’s suspicions were confirmed. It was Mark Preston.
She smiled.
He was like a boy in his love for the ocean, and she found that to be endearing. She watched until, after about ten minutes, he turned away from the ocean and walked back toward the hotel, soon becoming lost to her line of sight.
Susan found her book and turned on the lamp beside her bed to read.