Sterling's Reasons by Joey Light

table and picked up a lock of hair that fell over her shoulder. “I didn’t say you were bad. You’re crazy, you’re a pain, but you’re not bad.” He wanted to know what happened back there to make her withdraw so quickly. He wanted to know why he even cared. He tried again. “Something happened back there in the restaurant. What was it?”
    She finished her food and balled her trash. He took it from her and pitched it the same as he had his, only this time he missed. He walked over and picked it up. Then she was there, beside him, ready to move on. He let it pass that she ignored his question.
    The sounds of the ocean, the sea gulls, and the taste of the good food, badly prepared, seemed to have a settling effect on Sterling. She sighed and looked around.
    After gathering her bag they walked side by side down the old, warped and worn plankboard dock looking at the boats. The feel of his guiding hand on the small of her back was unnerving her. She was vulnerable right now. Out of nowhere, a feeling, a memory had come flying by and knocked her back in time.
    Five years.
    She concentrated on strolling beside Joe, forced herself to let the sights and smells bring her back to the present. She would have liked to just lean on Joe, lean into him and have a good cry. She deserved it. She needed it. She reached a hand out and tucked it in his arm. When he hugged it to him, she was surprised.
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    Sterling’s Reasons
    It was a gesture of possession. A gesture of caring. She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, grateful that he let her. Grateful that he asked no more questions.
    Crab nets hung on the boats. The smell of bait and salt, fish, and old, wet wood permeated the air. Joe stood by silently as Sterling chatted with an old sailor and asked questions about his work. He marveled to himself how she could really be interested in all these little things. She had such a zest for life…was so full of living that it just seemed to burst from her. And there wasn’t a man or woman that talked to her that didn’t enjoy it. When the one old man gave her a torn section of his fishing net as a souvenir, she planted a kiss on his cheek. He blushed and turned back to his work hurriedly.
    Joe indulged her when she insisted on sitting on the end of the dock, their feet dangling over the edge, Huck Finn style.
    Joe teased. “That old man is going to go home and make love to his wife tonight.”
    “Joe.” She elbowed him and blushed. “He’s a sweet old man.”
    “He’s a man. And you’re a pretty young woman. That kiss took him back to his early years. You made his day. Maybe his year.” He was holding back a chuckle as she pretended to shun him. His shoulder was touching hers. Her thigh was close. He could feel the female aura surround him. He wanted to put his arm around her shoulders, feel her rest her head against him, but something kept him from initiating the movement toward her. He picked up a pebble from the dock and pitched it into the water.
    Taking the time to unwind and let her mind go blank was exactly what she needed. She kept her thinking to a minimum and simply enjoyed watching the gulls play and the sunlight sparkle across the water. She listened to the occasional chatter of the fishermen; heard them unloading wooden tubs,

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    Joey Light
    dragging nets from one place to another. Each movement had a purpose, no steps were wasted as they snugged their boats for the night.
    Later, they climbed the steps back toward the row of shops. Joe closed his fingers around hers and noticed the wistfulness in her eyes as she looked up at him and smiled.
    He took her arm. “I’m tired. It’s getting late.” He didn’t look at his watch. He didn’t wear one. Time apparently had no meaning to him. “I didn’t notice a theater in this town. We could watch one of your movies or stop and rent one.”
    Sterling was tiring, too, but it was more mental. Joe had made a