Chapter 3

The man walking on the beach saw the beauty of the night all around him. The sky was a blanket of shimmering diamonds, undiminished by the lights of the city. Clouds didn’t dare to cover its beauty. The moon, a full, round, glowing orb low in the sky seemed to smile down on any creatures venturing out.

In the distance he could see a figure dancing with wild abandon, and could hear faint, tinkling laughter carried on the wind. A woman’s laughter. He could hear something else too; he thought he heard music playing. As he watched, the figure saluted the moon and yelled something into the night. It danced and twirled and fell to the ground. He smiled at her, for he felt certain now that the figure was a ‘her’. She seemed to be enjoying the night, and it did something funny to his stomach. He felt a flutter there he hadn’t felt for some time. He wanted to meet this woman, and to see just what it was that was making her dance and laugh.

He shook his head. He had to stop this. He had to stop looking for salvation in others. He had to find his own way back to the land of the living. One of the lines from one of his old songs played an endless loop in his head: I’m gonna die if I don’t start to live again. That pretty much summed it up for him. He’d been such a wreck the last six months, since he signed those papers. His friends would argue that he’d been a wreck, and quite a bit of a bastard, since the separation a year before that. He argued back that after nearly a 20-year relationship, he had the right to mourn its demise. They agreed, but told him to get on with it already. He promised he’d try.

The man was out at his house in the Hamptons because the beach had always been an inspirational place for him. The beach was a constant. The tides ebbed and flowed. The water rose and crashed on the shore with relentless sameness. The sands shifted and moved until all traces of humanity were wiped out, day after day, year after year. It was that consistency, that ‘something to depend on’ that made it an ideal place for him to gather his thoughts and get his life on track. This place reminded him that he was just a small bit of what existence was. There was so much more out there. This place let him remember that things all happen for a reason. He looked up the beach again. Maybe this woman in the distance was a sign. Maybe she could…

“Maybe nothing, you asshole,” he said out loud. He stopped in his tracks and looked out to sea. He searched the waves for answers, but there weren’t any. He searched the stars for clues, but saw only their sparkling beauty. He yelled into the darkness, letting his anger and aggression and sadness out. Hell, if that woman could shout at the moon, so could he.

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Valerie had kept her eyes on the man’s progress – she knew now it was a man on the beach. She hadn’t had enough to drink to ignore the possible danger of meeting a stranger on the beach, but she did have enough to want to see if the danger was the good kind. She saw the figure stop and turn toward the sea, shouting. The sound was mournful and sad and angry, and she wanted nothing more than to know what made this man make that noise. She gathered her food back into the basket she had carried down from the house, turned down the radio, and waited. Waited to see if he would continue his journey or turn back.

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The man felt better for having let some of that out. He cast a sidelong glance at the woman down the beach, and made a decision. He wasn’t going to over-think things, and he wasn’t going to let his fucked up past get in the way of the present. He wanted to see what that woman was so damned happy about, and he would. He strode purposefully toward the solitary woman.

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Valerie could tell from this distance that there was a purpose to his step. As he approached, she realized he looked familiar, but she couldn’t place where she knew him from. His walk, more of a strut actually, was teasing the back of her head. Where did she…… Then he got closer, and she saw the hair. Then he stopped in front of her, and she saw the eyes.

“Holy shit,” she said.

The man smiled a dazzling smile that didn’t quite reach those beautiful, clear, blue eyes. “Good evening to you, too,” he said.

Valerie was mortified. “I’m so sorry! It’s just that – you’re – I mean I know you know who you are – Jesus, I’m sorry.” She gave her forehead a little slap and stood up. “I’ve had the better part of a bottle of wine, well, the whole thing actually, and I think my common sense and courtesy have suffered for it.” Valerie took a deep breath and looked straight into his eyes. “I’m Valerie, Jon,” she said, putting out a hand. “What can I do for you?”

Jon’s smile reached into his eyes a little at her discombobulation. No matter how many times he’s met people, what he called ‘regular people’, normal non-celebrity people, the reactions he got never ceased to amaze him. They varied of course, but for the most part, people recognized him and didn’t know how to act. Like he was better than them or something. He wasn’t better; just different. He took Valerie’s hand in his, and brought it to his lips to kiss it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Valerie. You can tell me what has you so damned happy.”

Valerie was puzzled. What the hell was he talking about? “You mean my little celebration here?” Jon nodded. “Well, it’s really none of your business, but I’m celebrating the first day of the rest – the best – of my life. I’m putting my past firmly behind me, and I’m not looking back. It’s quite a relief, actually. The past two years have been hell, and I'm tired of not enjoying my life. My friend Kallie, that’s her house back there that I’m staying in, she’s going to be very proud of me. She's been after me for months to get my ass in gear.” She was rambling now, and couldn’t stop. “Please shut me up; I can’t seem to find the ‘off’ button.”

Jon shrugged. There was one sure fire way to get most women to shut up. He pulled Valerie into his arms and kissed her. After a moment’s hesitation, once the shock wore off, Valerie wrapped her arms around Jon’s waist and kissed him back. He broke the kiss after a minute and released Valerie, who promptly fell on her ass.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Jon asked, kneeling beside her. He didn't know whether to be concerned or amused.

“Dayum, Jon, a bottle of wine and a kiss from you is a lethal combination.” She grinned at him, shaking her head. “You did get me to shut up though, and I think I’m nearly sober now. You’re better than coffee.”

Jon laughed, and this time, his eyes sparkled and danced.