She stood on the old cemetery headland overlooking Seacliff and the ocean, the wind whipping her billowing skirt and tugging at the ends of her scarf. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, the wind drying her tears as soon as they fell. Unsure why she was here in the swiftly gathering twilight, she stared out to sea. The waves rolling in to crash at the foot of the cliff were so beautiful and there seemed to be such peace out there. She was desperate for peace. Martin was away from home so often. There was no peace to be had there. But maybe out here...she took a step closer to the edge of the cliff and gasped when dirt crumbled away beneath her feet. Why was she out here in the cold and dark? Because it was no warmer and brighter at home. She had no one. Her precious baby was gone. The other children she and Martin would have had were vanished, erased from her future by an accident of fate. Maybe she should vanish, too. She would be with her Victoria...she finally began to sob and then to scream, screaming into the sky, "What have I ever done to You? I want my baby! I want her now! Now!" She stepped closer to the edge and the dirt truly gave away beneath her and she found herself slipping down once again...so like the last time. At the last minute, she grabbed ahold of a well-placed solid shrub and put her energy into pulling herself back to safety. She rested in the mud of the windswept headland, crying once again...but for her present, not her past. Finally, she was calm and, soaking wet and muddy, climbed to her feet and made her way home.
And so the week began with another headache. Molly and Scott had returned home the night before after a wonderful weekend. Brenna had promised them she would drive into the city for a visit as soon as possible. She felt the now-familiar depression that occurred after a visit from Molly. It was so wonderful to see her friends, but so lonely when they left. And that dream! She had to be dreaming of Helena, but were they actual incidents or just by-products of long-ago sadness floating through the house? Who could she ask? Who would know other than Helena? She would not ask Helena. The older woman's peace of mind was more important than her own. Okay, back to the beach again! Time to jog off that gloom. It would be nice if Zoe could come too, but she wasn't quite up to that yet.
Brenna jogged north on the beach, drizzle beading her eyelashes and soaking her hair. Geez, she seemed to be damp all the time here. Her mind turned over her puzzling dreams as she ran, but she could come up with no solutions.
Adam and Max jogged south, Adam more enthusiastic this time than Max. He had decided that if he saw Brenna , he would screw up his courage and ask her out. If she said no, then he would know where he stood and Wendy would be off his back. Personally, he hoped Brenna would say yes. A couple other intrepid joggers passed him in the light rain, waving hello. Finally he saw her approaching. He smiled and then, remembering she might well say no, became sober.
Brenna laughed as she stopped in front of him, wiping water off her face. "It's warm enough to run in this weather, but I'm going to need a hot shower later or I feel like I'll catch a cold."
Adam smiled again. He, personally, would probably need a cold shower. Unless she turned him down that is, which would probably have the same effect. At the moment, her wet t-shirt was doing nothing for his brain cells and he resolutely kept his eyes on her face.
He stalled for a moment. "How's Zoe doing?"
"She's much better, going up and downstairs by herself. She'll be ready for walks out here pretty soon, I think."
Okay, it was time to screw up his courage; they were both soaked and needed to keep moving.
"I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner sometime," he blurted out.
Brenna stopped wringing out her frizzy ponytail and looked at him in veiled surprise. She'd about given up on him. "I'd love to, thank you," and when he remained silent, "When?"
He looked startled. "Oh...how about tomorrow night?" He hadn't actually made plans yet just in case.
Brenna nodded. There was certainly nothing pressing in her appointment book.
"What time? And what dress code?" she asked.
He thought quickly. How to plan a date in one second? "About 6:00 okay? More than jeans, less than formal. How's that?"
"Sounds great. I'm going to turn around here. I'm getting chilly now."
"Oh, sorry. Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," he said, walking backwards up the beach. Max shook himself and trotted after him.
Finally! Brenna thought as she jogged back down the beach, a smile on her face.