Marianne Surrenders by Marco James Page B

his. He did not flinch or pull away, instead he gave her a glance and smiled.
    He sat in the chair opposite and looked on in silence at Marianne. She could feel her face starting to burn. Nervously, she sipped the drink and gestured towards the window. “The weather's been really lovely the last few days,” she said, attempting polite small talk.
    “ Yes, it has hasn't it. Really lovely,” he replied.
    “ So, I see you're planting a tree for Sarah. That's nice.”
    The young man gave a chuckle and replied, “Yes. Yes I am. It's a cherry blossom – Sarah's favourite.”
    “ Mine too!” replied Marianne eagerly.
    He continued, “Yeah, apparently, when she was a kid, her and her best friend used to pick the cherry blossoms from the trees, put them in their hair, and dance around the garden, pretending they were princesses or something. That's why she likes them; fond memories I guess. Kinda funny huh?”
    Marianne's face contorted. She thought for a moment, took another sip of her drink, then said, “Um... Sarah and I used to do that.”
    At which point the young man rolled back in his seat, laughed and said, “Geez, you really don't remember me do you Marianne?”
    Marianne almost choked on her drink. She coughed and said, “How the hell do you know my name?” Trying to wipe the wine from her chin with as much dignity as she could muster. “Do I know you?”
    The young man laughed again. “Why don't you have a guess Marianne?' he said. “Go on, have a guess.” He was enjoying his little game now.
    Perplexed, Marianne eagerly looked him up and down. She started at his feet. He was wearing a pair of expensive looking hiking boots, but they were dusty from from digging in the garden. His jeans were tight around his thighs – he was obviously someone who liked to keep in shape. His t-shirt was taught across his toned and previously bare chest; it stretched tightly across broad shoulders. She looked at his face intensely inspecting every line. He definitely looked familiar, but it wasn't until she noticed the dimple that adorned his right cheek when he smiled that the penny finally dropped.
    “ Tommy?” she stammered inquisitively. “Little Tommy Ryan? Sarah's kid brother? It can't be?”
    She stood up and threw her arms around him.
    “ Hey, it took you some time but we got there in the end.”
    “ Oh my God. Little Tommy, or maybe...” she paused to eye his strapping arms again, “...or maybe not-so-little Tommy anymore.”
    The young man, or Tommy as it were, smiled modestly and nodded his head. “Yeah, it's me. I can't believe you didn't recognise me.”
    “ Are you kidding me? You look so...” again she paused to admire his form, '...so different!'
    “ Well, to be fair to you, I suppose it has been a while since I saw you last. What is it? Ten? Fifteen years?' he replied.
    Marianne scratched her head. In all honesty she couldn't remember the last time she had seen Sarah's younger brother. His existence was probably of little significance to her at the time. After all, she was a good seven years older than him, and he would have still been in short pants back then.
    “ Yeah,” she said unconvincingly. “It must be ten years at least.”
    Tommy picked up on Marianne's uncertainty and was a little disappointed. Growing up he had found his sister's best friend alluring. Being so young at the time he wasn't sure exactly what it was about her that fascinated him. Yes, she always had a certain earthy, natural beauty about her, but there was more to it than that. Simple things like the way she moved, the way she interacted with the world around her, and with other people. Unfortunately for Tommy, Marianne had barely noticed him. To her he was just her friend's kid brother; a child; an invisible little boy. As they grew older Tommy had to endure the heartache of seeing Marianne fall in love with someone else – someone much older, and stronger – his name was Michael. Although it hurt, Tommy took solace