comforting arm around her shoulders. “Hanging in there. What about you?”
“I’m okay. How’s my dad?”
“Still acting like he knows you, like you’ve been best buds for years. Seems like he’s having a good time.”
“Cool. That preacher woman still throwing a tantrum?”
“No, not really. She seems okay.”
“Hmm.”
Crickets chirped and water sloshed against the bottom of the pier. Every few seconds, a paddleboat tied to a support column knocked against the pier’s outer joist. Cool moonlight reflected off the lake, beaming from both above and below onto Heather’s skin and her navy dress, which blended with the deep blues of the night around her. If not for her shivering, she’d have looked right at home in this pastoral of rural Virginia.
“Oh, here,” Brandon said. “You want my coat?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He draped the coat over her shoulders, and she snuggled into it.
“I kinda wish we hadn’t held the first ceremony in Seattle,” Heather said. “I could use some friends here now.”
“Yeah, me too.” He left unsaid that few of their college friends could afford to fly to Virginia for a wedding, and that Tim wouldn’t have footed the bill.
“I know you hate wedding customs, but I wish I had enough people here for a bride’s side, and then you could’ve had a groom’s side. I mean, you have all these people here, and I… I don’t know.”
“Hey, I feel just as alone as you. Trust me.” Oh, what am I doing? She needs encouragement now—not my negativity. I need to cheer her up. “Remember Shannon? She just asked me about kids again. Can you believe that? That makes four times just today.”
Heather’s eyes remained focused on the dark tree line on the far side of the lake. Brandon studied her. Actually, she seemed to be looking beyond the tree line, deep into the darkness of the woods themselves. He’d never seen this look on her face before, and its aloofness scared him a little.
“I have a boy named Benjamin,” Heather said in a voice barely above a whisper. “He’s five. Just started kindergarten.”
Silence hung between them as Brandon tried to discern the meaning of what she’d said. “I’m sorry, what? You have a child?” That would certainly be news to Brandon, but he guessed she was making some kind of joke, or telling some kind of riddle. The woman he knew wouldn’t have withheld such important information from him.
“No, I don’t have a child,” Heather said, her gaze lingering on the distant trees. “Of course I don’t. Not this time.”
“What?”
“Do you believe in past lives?” she asked nonsensically. Heather was staunchly nonreligious—had been the one to convince Brandon that God didn’t exist. Yet now she was raising such a supernatural notion with a straight face?
“I—uh…” Brandon stuttered, caught off guard. She had to be joking.
“I wonder,” Heather continued softly, “if you live through too many past lives, will you start to remember them?”
“I’m sorry, hon. What are you talking about?”
“Did you ever know a girl named Crystal?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”
Finally she looked him in the eyes, and she appeared completely lucid. She smirked. “Sorry, I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
Aha. Now this makes sense. “Well it’s a good thing I don’t drink anymore.”
“Thanks to me.” She grinned disarmingly.
“Yeah, thanks indeed. I’ll return the favor sometime.” He pecked her on the lips, and as he did, he smelled wine on her breath.
But Heather never drank, at least not around him. Had she been indoors socializing, Brandon wouldn’t have thought much of it. But with her way out here, alone on the pier, he wondered if this was her way of recovering from her earlier confrontation with Karen. “Here, let me help you inside. They want us to cut the cake.”
Brandon started to get up, but Heather stayed put, so he sat back down. She was looking out at the trees again, and
“I’m okay. How’s my dad?”
“Still acting like he knows you, like you’ve been best buds for years. Seems like he’s having a good time.”
“Cool. That preacher woman still throwing a tantrum?”
“No, not really. She seems okay.”
“Hmm.”
Crickets chirped and water sloshed against the bottom of the pier. Every few seconds, a paddleboat tied to a support column knocked against the pier’s outer joist. Cool moonlight reflected off the lake, beaming from both above and below onto Heather’s skin and her navy dress, which blended with the deep blues of the night around her. If not for her shivering, she’d have looked right at home in this pastoral of rural Virginia.
“Oh, here,” Brandon said. “You want my coat?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
He draped the coat over her shoulders, and she snuggled into it.
“I kinda wish we hadn’t held the first ceremony in Seattle,” Heather said. “I could use some friends here now.”
“Yeah, me too.” He left unsaid that few of their college friends could afford to fly to Virginia for a wedding, and that Tim wouldn’t have footed the bill.
“I know you hate wedding customs, but I wish I had enough people here for a bride’s side, and then you could’ve had a groom’s side. I mean, you have all these people here, and I… I don’t know.”
“Hey, I feel just as alone as you. Trust me.” Oh, what am I doing? She needs encouragement now—not my negativity. I need to cheer her up. “Remember Shannon? She just asked me about kids again. Can you believe that? That makes four times just today.”
Heather’s eyes remained focused on the dark tree line on the far side of the lake. Brandon studied her. Actually, she seemed to be looking beyond the tree line, deep into the darkness of the woods themselves. He’d never seen this look on her face before, and its aloofness scared him a little.
“I have a boy named Benjamin,” Heather said in a voice barely above a whisper. “He’s five. Just started kindergarten.”
Silence hung between them as Brandon tried to discern the meaning of what she’d said. “I’m sorry, what? You have a child?” That would certainly be news to Brandon, but he guessed she was making some kind of joke, or telling some kind of riddle. The woman he knew wouldn’t have withheld such important information from him.
“No, I don’t have a child,” Heather said, her gaze lingering on the distant trees. “Of course I don’t. Not this time.”
“What?”
“Do you believe in past lives?” she asked nonsensically. Heather was staunchly nonreligious—had been the one to convince Brandon that God didn’t exist. Yet now she was raising such a supernatural notion with a straight face?
“I—uh…” Brandon stuttered, caught off guard. She had to be joking.
“I wonder,” Heather continued softly, “if you live through too many past lives, will you start to remember them?”
“I’m sorry, hon. What are you talking about?”
“Did you ever know a girl named Crystal?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so.”
Finally she looked him in the eyes, and she appeared completely lucid. She smirked. “Sorry, I think I’ve had too much to drink.”
Aha. Now this makes sense. “Well it’s a good thing I don’t drink anymore.”
“Thanks to me.” She grinned disarmingly.
“Yeah, thanks indeed. I’ll return the favor sometime.” He pecked her on the lips, and as he did, he smelled wine on her breath.
But Heather never drank, at least not around him. Had she been indoors socializing, Brandon wouldn’t have thought much of it. But with her way out here, alone on the pier, he wondered if this was her way of recovering from her earlier confrontation with Karen. “Here, let me help you inside. They want us to cut the cake.”
Brandon started to get up, but Heather stayed put, so he sat back down. She was looking out at the trees again, and
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