Maia gazed out at the horizon, conscious of this new person standing near her. Maybe he would be the one to bring her life back to solid ground. Maybe he could fill the empty spot in her heart and at the breakfast table. Maybe he would–his voice interrupted her thoughts.
“You look a million miles away.”
Pulled back from her fantasy, she responded, trying not to blush, “I feel transported when I’m here on days like this.”
Ben side-glanced at the woman standing next to him, her head reaching his shoulder. “The water has that effect on me too.”
She turned and looked inland. “Just watch the waves wash up on the shore. It looks as though the beach is running away from them.”
“You’re right,” Ben nodded. “Then the waves pull back from the shore. It’s a pattern. First one, and then the other, running away from each other.”
There was silence except for waves lapping at the jetty below them. Maia noticed a quizzical look on Ben’s otherwise attractive face. Maybe he thought that was weird. Or maybe he was just squinting because of the sun, she hoped.
As he caught her looking at him, his expression changed to a smile.
“Our dogs like each other,” he said, gesturing to where they were running after each other, first one in the lead and then the other. Sand was flying, black and tan tails were wagging, and excited yips were being exchanged. Ben sighed slightly and continued, “Dogs have it so easy. They make new friends all the time and enjoy themselves without worrying if it will last or what it means. Next time, I’m coming back as a dog.”
Maia laughed and they returned to the parking lot. She thought that maybe it wasn’t easy for Ben to meet new people. It sure wasn’t for her either, she acknowledged, although she hadn’t really been trying to find anyone. She was still adjusting to the change in her status from married to single, again.
Beth Lapin 
Leave a Reply