one of surprise, his voice sarcastic. “So you’re not totally unfamiliar with good music.”
Sterling ignored his comment and smiled to herself smugly, braking as the traffic in front of her slowed. It was still raining, but the sky was getting lighter.
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49
Joey Light
“Not totally,” she agreed evenly. “But there’s nothing wrong with a good old country song, and some of the light rock is okay. I’m pretty partial to the oldies, but I like music, all kinds.”
He nodded and tried to listen to the music. “At one time I found great pleasure in all types of music. Even wrote some pretty good songs.” He let the pleasure of the memories roll through him.
“Didn’t sing too badly, either. Me and Red, we used to sit on the porch of his hunting cabin up in Cumberland and pick and strum.” He remembered too well.
His voice softened. “We’d throw back a few beers and make up silly lyrics.” But now the music was just a sound. It didn’t touch him. It couldn’t reach him where he was now. He hated it.
When he rolled the window back up, he caught her scent. It was light and flowery. He wished his biological responses had become as deadened as his heart and soul.
“Traffic is getting thicker. Guess we’re getting close to a town. Want to stop here or go on?”
Without looking her way, he stated flatly, “Keep going. The whole point of this was to reach sunshine. Do you see any?”
I keep getting to him, she thought. But irritation is better than no emotion. It might be only a little tiny bit at a time, but I’m getting there. “Surliness will only get you turned around. I refuse to drive any more than another half hour. Whatever is there at…” she glanced at the clock on the dash, “four o’clock is where we stop.”
“Now that makes a lot of sense. I can see why your boss sent you away for a while. You must drive everybody crazy.” He watched the passing landscape as they drove. Once upon a time he would have enjoyed the view. But no pleasure came.
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Sterling’s Reasons
Was it her imagination or was he trying to press himself against the door to keep a good distance between them? No matter, she shrugged mentally. Distance was one thing she didn’t plan on giving him.
“What are you watching in the rearview mirror?” he questioned sourly. “It’s where we’re going that you’re supposed to be watching.”
“That one stupid car changes lanes when I do and speeds up or slows down along with me. Strange.”
“The car can’t be stupid,” he said drolly, “but the driver might be. And what’s so strange about it? We’re driving along the same stretch of road.”
At 3:55 they followed the road into a small village. She could smell the sea air immediately and broke into a wide grin. The houses lining the road into town were small cottages with picket fences, swings in the backyard and on the porches. Toys were scattered all over the yards along with scooters and bikes.
Turning right onto Main Street, Sterling said gleefully, “All right! Quaint, by the sea…Look down there. Masts, the tall ships and real fishermen. A real by-gosh fishing village. We’ll stop here.”
He grumbled, “No sun and it’s not four o’clock. Keep driving.”
“Sun will be out soon, and if I slow down and take my time parking it will be precisely four. This is the place. Oh, look, shops. I love to shop.”
“How come I knew that? And I suppose you’re hungry already, too.”
She pulled the sleek automobile into a parking space and turned the ignition off. “I could do with some seafood, shrimp deep fried and dripping with tartar sauce, or buttered lobster, white, sleek, and greasy. And curly fries. I wonder if curly fries have hit the outer banks yet?”
They both slipped out of their seat belts and got out of the car. The air just burst with the smell of salt and fish. He put his forearms on the roof of the
Sterling ignored his comment and smiled to herself smugly, braking as the traffic in front of her slowed. It was still raining, but the sky was getting lighter.
www.samhainpublishing.com
49
Joey Light
“Not totally,” she agreed evenly. “But there’s nothing wrong with a good old country song, and some of the light rock is okay. I’m pretty partial to the oldies, but I like music, all kinds.”
He nodded and tried to listen to the music. “At one time I found great pleasure in all types of music. Even wrote some pretty good songs.” He let the pleasure of the memories roll through him.
“Didn’t sing too badly, either. Me and Red, we used to sit on the porch of his hunting cabin up in Cumberland and pick and strum.” He remembered too well.
His voice softened. “We’d throw back a few beers and make up silly lyrics.” But now the music was just a sound. It didn’t touch him. It couldn’t reach him where he was now. He hated it.
When he rolled the window back up, he caught her scent. It was light and flowery. He wished his biological responses had become as deadened as his heart and soul.
“Traffic is getting thicker. Guess we’re getting close to a town. Want to stop here or go on?”
Without looking her way, he stated flatly, “Keep going. The whole point of this was to reach sunshine. Do you see any?”
I keep getting to him, she thought. But irritation is better than no emotion. It might be only a little tiny bit at a time, but I’m getting there. “Surliness will only get you turned around. I refuse to drive any more than another half hour. Whatever is there at…” she glanced at the clock on the dash, “four o’clock is where we stop.”
“Now that makes a lot of sense. I can see why your boss sent you away for a while. You must drive everybody crazy.” He watched the passing landscape as they drove. Once upon a time he would have enjoyed the view. But no pleasure came.
50
www.samhainpublishing.com
Sterling’s Reasons
Was it her imagination or was he trying to press himself against the door to keep a good distance between them? No matter, she shrugged mentally. Distance was one thing she didn’t plan on giving him.
“What are you watching in the rearview mirror?” he questioned sourly. “It’s where we’re going that you’re supposed to be watching.”
“That one stupid car changes lanes when I do and speeds up or slows down along with me. Strange.”
“The car can’t be stupid,” he said drolly, “but the driver might be. And what’s so strange about it? We’re driving along the same stretch of road.”
At 3:55 they followed the road into a small village. She could smell the sea air immediately and broke into a wide grin. The houses lining the road into town were small cottages with picket fences, swings in the backyard and on the porches. Toys were scattered all over the yards along with scooters and bikes.
Turning right onto Main Street, Sterling said gleefully, “All right! Quaint, by the sea…Look down there. Masts, the tall ships and real fishermen. A real by-gosh fishing village. We’ll stop here.”
He grumbled, “No sun and it’s not four o’clock. Keep driving.”
“Sun will be out soon, and if I slow down and take my time parking it will be precisely four. This is the place. Oh, look, shops. I love to shop.”
“How come I knew that? And I suppose you’re hungry already, too.”
She pulled the sleek automobile into a parking space and turned the ignition off. “I could do with some seafood, shrimp deep fried and dripping with tartar sauce, or buttered lobster, white, sleek, and greasy. And curly fries. I wonder if curly fries have hit the outer banks yet?”
They both slipped out of their seat belts and got out of the car. The air just burst with the smell of salt and fish. He put his forearms on the roof of the
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