Beach Rendezvous Time!

Hi friends!

Now, we are getting to the sparse part of the book, where I haven't written most of it yet! I do have a deadline of August 8 for review within my writing group, so it should get "finished" by then. In the meantime, enjoy this scene between Jane and Darren!

Yours truly,

The woman who's writing Jane's story

Dear friends:

Thank you for tuning in! Without your support, the lady who's writing my story might not be so motivated. Please keep tuning in!

Love,

Jane

P.S. This scene is at the beach, where I've gone to a rendezvous with a certain man....

   The next text I sent Diva and Sal read:

I had my hair done and then I came to the beach. Remember how windy it is at the beach? What was I thinking?

   I hoped my black scarf would come in handy this time as much as it did on the Key West Express.

   I took off walking to the south and watched the frothy surf race up and down the seashore. The salt water splashed onto my feet and legs while I wondered what was going to happen next. Would he look the same as before? Was he kind? Was he as sane and employed and quote-unquote normal as he seemed?

   What had prompted him to get in touch, anyway? Maybe it was the same thing that happened with Patti and Andy. Here we were, two people in Florida in our mid-to-late-thirties, looking for people to date and having all these odd encounters. Had his foray into dating after our Key West date been as lackluster as mine?

   My mind wandered for a few minutes, until I realized that my shorts were wrinkled from the long drive, my hair was tangled despite my best efforts and trusty black scarf, and I’d forgotten to apply sunscreen. Planning to return to the room, change, and primp, I turned around and walked a while until I heard the sound of my name above the pounding surf.

   He stood in front of the volleyball courts, equidistant between the hotel and the water. My stomach lurched, but I smiled and walked toward him anyway.

   “Darren! Good to see you,” I yelled over the sound of the wind and the surf.

   “Hey, Jane,” he said, holding his arms out to me and then folding me into a hug.

   “You’re looking well,” I said as he guided me back into the hotel.

   “Thanks, you too. You know,” he said, smiling sideways at me in the elevator, “I couldn’t remember what color your hair was, and honestly I still can’t. Do you always wear that thing on your head?”