I felt bad for her losing her father at a young age. It was not the same as actually having her father die, like me, but in some ways it must have been worse. Even when my parents were gone, I always knew that they had loved me and were waiting for me in Heaven, but how must she have felt. Children tend to blame themselves in that sort of situation. She must have questioned her father's love of her and her own self worth. During that conversation, I wanted to hug her, but we were driving. I settled for a brief pat on her shoulder.

I grew up on the campus of the University of Hawaii at Hilo, since my uncle taught there. From a young age, I would run around the campus, bugging the professors and chatting up the students. It was also a bit like a small town. There were always rumors going around and you could not get away with anything. Still, since getting to know her family, and her home town, I have become more aware of what it is like to grow up in a truly small town.

The docks were a great site for photos. I took at least half a roll of one of the old men carving. His face was so interesting. I find that the older people get, the more interesting they get, both physically and socially. I ended up chat with the old man a bit. He assumed we were a couple, and I did not bother to dissuade him. I found that I was flattered by his assumption. It was probably the first glimmer of the love which was to grow between us, though I did not recognize it as such until much later.

She asked me to tell some of my travel stories, and I obliged her. I told her of my favorite trip of all, to a small island off of the coast of Scotland. Islands have always fascinated me, since they are so different, all around the world. I always considered myself to be an island boy. I stayed in a room above a public house on the island. There was a pub, a small general store, an old stone church, a tiny one room school house, a couple dozen houses and little else, except rocks and sheep.

One the island, I expected the locals to be closed mouthed and unaccepting of an outsider, but I learned that it was not so. They invited me into their hearts and homes. They were so proud of their beautiful little island, but they also asked questions about my home. Upon learning that I had also grown up on an island, they declared me one of them. I spent a great two weeks being a part of their community.

As we drove, I listened to her stories of her family and herself. I told her about my parents' deaths, and being raised by my uncle and his wife. It was hard on my sister and I adjusting to their deaths and moving to a new home, so far away from everything and everyone we knew. I empathized with her losing her father and with her fear of being somewhere so different from where she had grown up.

The view was beyond belief. I could see why it was her favorite spot and since then it has become one of my favorite spots. I shot over four rolls of film that evening and could have taken twice as many. I was a bit in the zone, and barely heard her question, but managed to answer. "I completely understand. It is fantastic. After I got my shots, but kicked off my shoes and joined her on the hood of the truck. "Well, I'm not Sammy, but I am happy to be here with you. Thank you Alice. It's been a wonderful day."

As the last few rays of the sun disappeared, and I shot a few last few shots from the hood of her truck. It was a perfect moment, and for once I set my camera down, and just enjoyed the moment. If did not think about the two and a half hours of driving that were still before us. i realized that with her help, in one day, I already had enough rolls shot for nearly an eighth of my book.

Living with a relative other than his parents...I felt awful for Peter and the sister I didn't know. It made sense that he was all right to travel so much, what with hardly any family back home waiting for him to return. Still, it had to be a lonely job.

"Well, I'm not Sammy, but I am happy to be here with you. Thank you Alice. It's been a wonderful day.”

I laughed, leaning in closer as if someone might overhear. “Yes, well, don’t tell him but you’re slightly better company than a dog. Slightly,” I teased, playfully shoving his shoulder before laying back with my hands behind my head. “I love watching you work, though. I know you’ll probably be leaving the area soon, but…if you ever want some company and I’m not working I’d love to tag along. You know, just for fun.”

I sat up suddenly, scooting even closer to him. I was probably flirting even back then but didn’t realize it.. “Speaking of fun, can I see those pictures you took of me? I’ve been dying to see all day but I figured I should wait until we were finished for the day.”

The fact was that I did want to have her tagging along. It had been a productive day, being guided around by a vivacious and beautiful woman. Somehow the thought of going it alone the next day was not that appealing. In the past I had always tried to work alone if possible, so as not to absorb other peoples' impressions while I took photos. Somehow working with her had been different though. Things seemed to have more meaning with her there.

When she shoved me, I shoved her right back. I supposed that I was flirting too. Anyway, I was very aware of how closed we were on the hood of the truck, while I took the pictures out of a pocket on my vest. There were four pictures which I had chosen from the dozens of pictures I had taken. They represented the best ones, and I planned to put every one of them in my book. One was a closeup of her face, which seemed transported by the joy of the dance. Another was almost a side on view, with her pale legs flashing against the dark backdrop of the pub. The last two were straight on. I held them out to her one at a time, looking at her face to gauge her reactions. Somehow it was important to me that she liked the pictures as much as I did.

It was a little dark to see the pictures, so I took a small flashlight out of my pocket, and shined it on the pictures as she looked at them. At first, she did not react, and I waited with baited to see if she liked them. Since that time, I have spent a lot of time, enjoying her reactions to my photographs. When she is pleased with a shot, it makes my day and I can always trust her to be bluntly honest with me, something which is not always true of others in the industry.

But I digress. She was looking at the pictures, and I was waiting for her response.

All he had to do was reach for the pictures in his pocket and I shifted excitedly, wanting to get the best look at them as quickly as possible. “Oh…” The light shined on the pictures and my eyes lit up, my smile growing. “Is that really me? I’ve never liked myself in pictures,” I laughed in surprise, reaching out to touch the second picture.

By the last one I was practically leaning against his side, still looking at the pictures. “Peter, thank you. These are gorgeous shots. Not that I think I’m gorgeous! I just-“ A blush crept up and I laughed again, embarrassed. “Nobody else could have captured the beauty like you did. I’m complimenting you, and I can’t wait to see what else is on that camera. Thank you,” I said, curling up to wrap my arms around my legs. I thought it strange he already had them printed, but didn’t ask how at the time.

I would have been happy to sit there for most of the night, but it was late and we still had a drive ahead of us. “I’m exhausted,” I sighed after a bit, uncurling myself to stretch my legs. If I were by myself I probably would have slept in the car before driving home in the morning. It was the kind of area you could do that and not worry about any trouble. “We should head back.” With an exaggerated groan I slid off the hood, landing on my feet and stretching. “So…what would it take for me to convince you to drive? I don’t know if I’ll be alert enough for these roads and I hate driving in the dark with the wildlife. It’s a straight shot for almost an hour, until we get closer. Besides, I’ll be okay to help with directions right beside you.” As I should have expected, however, I had trouble staying awake during the long road back home, curled up against the window in my fatigue from walking so much that day. “I’m sorry,” I murmured tiredly with half a grin, staring over at him with half closed eyes. The seats of that old truck were perfect, soft without a space or barrier between the passenger and driver like newer vehicles do now. It was all one seat, letting me get comfortable with my arms wrapped around my stomach beneath my breasts. Conversation was the only way I was going to stay awake.

“I work all evening again tomorrow and I know this isn’t exactly a vacation so you be out during the day tomorrow, but I was serious about coming over. Maybe the day after, I only work really late that night. Have a home cooked meal, my mother will probably want those that are like family to us to come over. Not often we have a stranger around here. She might be able to point you toward some other places to visit.” It was a simple offer, and I could barely see his face in the dim glow of the headlights outside. “Say you’ll come.” The last bit was said more of a statement than a question, the hope in my voice something I hoped he couldn’t say no to.

I was very aware when she almost leaned against me, and would have welcomed it. As it was, I could not let her comment go unchallenged. I said, under my breath, but loud enough to be heard, "Your wrong." Even before I loved her, I knew she was gorgeous. I still think so.

Anyway, I ended up driving on the way back. I had never driven a truck before, and was not quite used to being so far off the ground. As we drove along the back roads, headed toward the highway, she invited me to visit her family. Of course, I had already invited myself, to some extend, but I envisioned simply interviewing her family, not being asked to dinner. "Of course I'll come." How could I not.

It was late at night, by the time we hit the highway and I was feeling a bit tuckered and I could tell my companion was getting tired also. We talked some more to pass the time. I can't remember all of what we talked about now, but I can remember feeling very contented. Being with her was like being with someone I had known for years. We just clicked. I remember thinking at the time that if I wasn't going to be there for such a short time, I would have invited her on a date. As it was though, I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head.

It was after midnight when we pulled into her driveway. I remember walking her to her door, and an awkward moment, before I leaned forward and gave her a quick hug. In the moment I quite forgot about my resolve to pay her. I am glad I did now, because she probably would have been insulted. I also remember feeling very lonely on the way back to my room over the pub.

The next day went well, in terms of my photo shoot, but I missed Alice's vivacious presence. I looked forward to seeing her the next day, more than I can say. The time went very slowly. On the day I was to meet her family, I caught her last set at the pub, and had the pleasure of seeing her dance again. It is a sight which I still enjoy to this day. As I sat in the audience of half drunk Canadian's, I had a feeling that I would really miss her when I left. It was the first time I found myself wondering about extending my stay deliberately, even if my work was done.

As if he hadn’t already proved it, the hug at the door proved Peter was mature, a modern gentleman. I hugged him right back with enthusiasm before waving a small goodbye and going inside.

Just as he had missed me during his day out taking photographs, I longed for his company with every passing hour at work that next day. I didn’t even notice him come in until the end of the song when Brent said my name to get my attention. “Alice, isn’t that the photographer you were talking to?”

I looked up and immediately caught his eye, grinning ear to ear. “What, were you watching me or something?” I smirked, unable to look away. It surprised me how happy I was to see he’d met me at work instead of waiting to come to my place right before the dinner.

“Not necessarily, but I’ve been watching him. His eyes have barely left you, darlin’,” the older man grinned, standing and putting a hand on her back.

“Oh, stop it. He doesn’t know anyone else, of course he’s going to look at me. Don’t say another word about it. I’m off, see you later,” I said, rolling my eyes before practically running off the stage to his side. “Ready to go?” I ask. “Come on, park your car in the back by mine and we can ride together. I need to get my jacket, I’ll meet you there okay?” I said, touching his arm and awaiting confirmation. My hair was half up in curls that day, a purple dress with a lace three-quarter sleeve on. I gave him that same smile before rushing behind the counter to head through the kitchen and out the back door. Even then I knew I’d have a good time with him no matter what we were doing, I couldn’t stop smiling at him. It was actually a bit embarrassing, and I hoped my co-workers didn’t read too much into it. Two people of the opposite gender could love hanging out and just be friends, I figured.

When we were finally in my truck again I started her up, ready to explain how the evening would go. He would need a warning beforehand, that I knew.

“Did you have a good day, today? It was a bit cloudy, I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing,” I started, enjoying the casual conversation. I told him about my day, of a tourist that had been causing trouble earlier that day not wanting to pay his bill. It was something small, but it was what my day consisted of and he didn’t seem bothered to listen.

“By the way…I should warn you about today. I told my mother I just wanted it to be us and maybe a couple others, but she tends to…make a big deal out of everything. Don’t be surprised if she and the too many people she invited to be obsessed with finding out more about you and your home.” Or if they ask about your love life, I wanted to add, but didn’t. I hoped they would be polite enough to not try and set me up this time…it was like being single at 22, almost 23, was a sin.

“Just remember you don’t have to answer all their questions, ‘kay? They can be a little overwhelming, but they mean well. Oh, and my grandpa is huge into fishing. If he starts to ramble I’ll try to rescue you. We need a signal if you need saving with any of them… Oh! Just ask if I have any juice. I don’t,” I told him quickly, “and I’ll know I should intervene in the conversation. Oh, and my mom will probably bring way too much food and try to get you to fill your place more than you should…just ignore it.”

I sighed deeply, giving him an apologetic look while laughing at myself. I was nervous and we weren’t even dating. I wanted him to approve, have a good time, and possibly learn something for his work. Because of this I was worried before we were halfway there.

I had been staring at her, and why not. Seeing her white legs flashing in her dance steps held an endless fascination for me. The old man was right. I held my tongue though, since I was not sure how she would take such a declaration on my part. As she told me about my family, I started to worry about more matchmakers than some random old man. I envisioned a whole passel of aunts and sisters, all aiming for matrimony for her and I.

As we rode in her truck, toward her house, I learned more about her family. From what she described, I imagined the evening would be like a scene straight out of movie. In my mind, I saw a gypsy camp, with distant relatives arriving and a pig roasting over an open fire. It was, to say the least, a little scary. All I had wished for was to meet her older relatives and to hear their memories. It was a little to late to back out now though.

We wound our way through town, and eventually ended up on the outskirts, in front of an old Victorian house, painted white with blue and green highlights. There were two floors, an enormous front porch and a tall gable. There was a white picket fence, containing a pack of children and dogs, running loose together. Again, I wondered what I was getting myself into.

As she pulled up her truck into the driveway of the house, the children and dogs ran at use, surrounding the truck. Some of the children were shouting "Aunt Alice!" which spoke to their relationship. As I exited the truck, my second best camera in tow, I hit a barrage of questions. "Wow, neat camera. Can I hold it? Will you take my picture? Why is your camera so big?" Besides that, there were prying little fingers, wet dog noses and thrashing tails. One little auburn haired girl asked "Are you Auntie Alice's new boyfriend?" I rolled my eyes at her and did not give an answer.

Seconds later, a then unfamiliar voice boomed from the front porch. "You lot, leave the poor man in peace!" Seconds later, the throng of animals and tiny humans were back to running around the yard, chasing each other, and tumbling all over the grass.

The sunlight was just starting to sink below the gable of the house, sending beautiful rays over the yard and those enjoying it. I snapped a few photos, without a second thought. It was life affirming to see the sheer joy of the children and their pets, as they romped and played. I wondered if they were all family, or if some where neighborhood kids. It was hard to count, with all of the movement, but I thought that there were four dogs and ten or eleven children.

Soon, Alice came around the side of her truck, looking rather sheepish. I grinned at her, and pulled her into a light hug, before letting go again. "Did your Mom invite the neighborhood over? Surely these aren't all related. A few people, eh? Are you sure your mother doesn't run a dog rescue slash orphanage?" I could not help being there, so I chose to take it all in stride, rather than getting annoyed or upset. If nothing else, it would be interesting to be around such a big family. Our family was so tiny, compared to that lot.

I immediately blushed at his assumption, despite knowing it was a joke. “Okay, okay, I might have not exactly been honest about my family and its size. Yes it’s just my mother’s parents and her brother but then they have children, and some of them have children…” I shrugged, nervously looking back toward the house. “No, not all of these are related to me but you know how it is. Kids want to bring over other kids, and if there’s a big meal then why not invite others? The more the merrier, right?”

I assumed this wasn’t exactly his style, but perhaps for one night it wouldn’t be so bad. Everyone needed human interaction and got lonely, so I hoped one day he would look bad at this as a good memory to chuckle at. As I’d already dropped Sammy off earlier in the day he was there too, but too distracted with a three year old on his back to come say hello.

“Is this him?” A woman with the same narrow face and bright smile as Alice came down the steps, immediately pulling her daughter into a half hug while still looking at Peter.

“Yes, this is Peter MacDonald. Peter, this is my mother Julia. Um…over there on the porch is my Uncle Kevin. My grandpa is the one in the plaid shirt, his name is Benjamin but I just call him Papaw. And my cousins Claire, Meagan, and Josiah are the ones that just ran in the house… Uncle Kevin’s wife Abigail is somewhere around here…” I said, looking through the mess in front of us. It wasn’t worth going through the ones that weren’t related to me, he probably wouldn’t remember the names I ‘d just given him.

“She’s in the kitchen with your grandmother,” Julia said, reaching out to shake Peter’s hand. At least she didn’t go straight for the hug like some of my family did.

“Now Mom he’s just here to see a few pictures, eat, and hear a little history on this place. Please don’t-“

My mother just rolled her eyes, gently pushing me toward the house I’d grown up in. “Why don’t you go help in the kitchen, we’ll all be in there to eat soon. The table needs to be set too. We have the big one in the dining room, then I set up a couple card tables in the living room,” she told me.

‘I’m sorry,’ I mouthed to Peter with an apologetic smile before leaving. On my way in one of my nieces tugged on my dress, forcing me to pick her up before going inside.

“I promise we don’t bite. I just figured why fix all the food for only a few people? Besides, the kids were so loud that the neighbors knew something was going on. Nothin’ picture worthy here, but Alice thought you could use some company after working all week,” Julia said, bringing him to the porch. “I take it by the look on your face this isn’t what you expected,” she smirked, looking at him kindly. “I can make the kids eat out on the picnic table in the backyard, it’ll help with the noise.”

To say that even was interesting would be an understatement. I found myself sitting at a table, with six or seven other adults. Despite her suggestion, the kids did not eat outside and the noise did not diminish. I think that her mother and grandmother's plan was to fatten me up so much that I could not run away, and if that was their plan it worked. By the time a roast and potatoes were in me, and a second coarse of locally caught fish, they were serving up fresh strawberry shortcake for desert. i ate two pieces, and probably gained ten pounds. Everything tasted fresh, and I am sure it was.

Pawpa and Grandma caught me after dinner, and sat me down on a couch, between Alice and her mother. It was not unpleasant to be seated between them, but it was a little embarrassing. I think it was Pawpa's attempt at matchmaking. As it was, I found myself thigh to thigh with Alice, with little hope of escape.

Pawpa started off the tales of the town and of their family with the story of a beggar man. He said that long ago, when the family first moved to Newfoundland, and his own grandmother was queen of the household, a beggar man came to the door, seeking a free meal. Now the family was having porridge for dinner, as they often did, seeing as they were poor themselves. After dinner the littlest boy, Anthony, went around the table, scrapping the last little bits of porridge from the dinner bowls, back into the big pot. The beggar asked "That boy got right wit?" Great-something Grandma assured him that he did, and that he was just saving every drop that was left, so there would be enough left over for breakfast. It was a cute story, which told me much about this family, and this house. It seemed that the Taylor family had a history of taking in strangers and feeding them.

Grandma took over next, asking me about my loved life, or lack there of. It was an innocent enough question. "I see you don't have a ring on, young man. Are you single then?" As it was I admitted as much. This lead to a series of questions from Grandma and Julia, which had me in the end admitting that I had not had a full time girlfriend for some time, due to my globetrotting. The whole time, I could feel Alice growing more and more uncomfortable beside me, but I smiled over to her to assure her. The questions were rather personal, but asked with harmless intention.

Grandma told another story which really stuck in my mind, about the how Great-Grandma Taylor walked the sharpened path. It seems that there were two paths to the old well, back in the days before running water. One was an easy path with smooth stones, and the other had sharp stones. Everyone took the easy path, but Great-Grandma Taylor. She walked the sharpened path, in her bare feet, because she said she was getting it ready for others to trod. It seemed that that particular grandmother liked to play the martyr. I was not sure it was book worthy, or not, unless they could produce a photo of the old girl, but it certainly spoke to the character of that particular relative.

After a dozen such tales, and general information about the nineteen and early twentieth century history of the town, I felt like I really had enough for an entire book, with or without pictures. I found myself leaning forward and taking notes, in a notebook, as they spoke. For awhile, I quite forgot that Alice was sitting, almost pressed up against my side, that is until the old grandfather clock chimed ten, the children were ushered off by Pawpa to get ready for bed, or to go home, and Julia asked me if I would like a cup of coffee.

"Yes, please." Julia stood up, enabling me to move over a little. Suddenly, I was sorry not to be squished up between them anymore.

“Oh, me too! With-“ I started, but Mom interrupted me.

“I know, caramel creamer,” Julia said with a small wave of her hand before heading to the kitchen.

As sure as I was that Peter felt uncomfortable, I for one didn’t mind the situation as much. It wasn’t that I loved being squished against his side, though I did notice the warmth it gave…I was just used to being in a crowd in that house, on that couch. When we watched a movie there would usually be someone in my lap and another sitting on the arm of the couch. I didn’t go to Mother’s a ton since I’d moved out, but it was enough that I still felt at home there.

“I’m sorry about them,” I whispered, crossing my legs now that there was more room on the couch. “About all this. You should have said no to the coffee, we could have gotten you out of here.” As soon as Mom brought the mugs I stood, wrapping my hands around the steaming cup. “Uh…Peter, why don’t we head out to the back porch?” I knew nobody would say no to us spending time alone.

Besides, I didn’t get him much choice. I put a hand on his forearm and pulled him through the kitchen and onto the weather worn painted porch. It was dark by now, a few of those special lamps that keep bugs away lit. With a small sigh I sat down on the sing bench, the metal chains holding it up creaking with every movement. “It was getting stuffy in there. Look I really am sorry. I didn’t intend for this to turn into a crowded mess. I’m sure you were looking forward to not being around a lot of people in a place like this,” I said, looking over at him with an apologetic smile. “I hope you at least got something out of it. What did you think? Be perfectly honest, I won't take offense!”

It surprised me when she basically pulled me onto the back porch. I had been enjoying the discussion and the loving warmth of her family, even toward a complete stranger like me. I almost laughed at her expression, as we sat out on the porch, sipping our coffee. She looked like a nervous school girl, waiting for a teachers pronouncement.

"Stop worrying, your family was lovely and not nearly as bad as you feared. I learned much that will be of use to me, I swear. Besides that, coming from a tiny family, it is fun to be a part of a larger clan, even if it is just for the night." The truth was that I could tell how much they all loved each other and valued their ancestors and traditions. It was a family generations in the making.

I kicked at swinging feet with mine. "Now tell me the truth. How many times have you brought a boyfriend for a quiet meal, to meet your family, only to have your mother pull this on them and scare the off?" I found that I was in a good mood now. I had an entertaining evening, a good meal and now I was sitting in the moonlight, drinking coffee with a gorgeous gal. What could have been better than that.

I knew my own track record with relationships was horrible. Most of the women I had dated had left me because they felt neglected. I had to travel all over for my work, leaving them in the lurch on holidays and other important dates. One of them, Meredith, had told me I would die a lonely old man, still traveling the globe, but not seeing the wonders of my own back yard. It was probably true back then. Traveling and photography, the thrill of discovering the perfect shot, was more important to me than the love of any one woman. A few of my relationships had lasted a few months, and one had lasted for half a year, but in the end they all ended the same way.

I frowned slightly at his question, but hid by taking a quick sip. He did seem light hearted, at ease despite my exasperation and worry. “I brought home a couple guys in high school. You know how it is, back then you always think they’re the perfect one. But anything serious?” I shrugged, unsure how to go on with the conversation with a male. But anyone serious? Nah. And hey, if they can’t take this kind of crazy then they aren’t for me anyway. This place holds a lot of comfort for me. Seeing my grandparents around, still together, reminds me love used to mean something to people. And being around so many kids brings an innocence to the table that you don’t get outside these fences.”

I paused, suddenly looking over at him with a grin. “Don’t get me wrong, I like my alone, quiet time which is why I moved out, but even you have to admit there’s something about having a place, or rather people, you can always fall back on. Your sister, or maybe a girlfriend back home…?” Hey, if he was going to ask then so was I. “You’re cute, I wouldn’t picture you as the single type. And you look a little older than me, too. Very manly features,” I went on, struggling to keep back a giggle. “What, twenty-six?” Today I can’t believe I was bold enough to make such a statement, but I assumed he was just a kind soul passing through the country. Nothing would happen between us, why not tease a little? Anything to get a smile out of those I was talking to...especially Peter.

I jutted out my chin. "Why thank you. You are quite womanly yourself, and obviously younger than my twenty seven years. What are you, twenty two? No, there is not girlfriend, or wife, or ex-wife back home. The truth is that my work ruins any chance I have at a relationship. Most women don't want a man who is always going off to the far corners of the world to work, and the few that were willing to follow me, I did not fancy as much as they fancied me. The truth is that I already plan to stay a bachelor until I retire. Maybe then I can find the love of my life and a reason to settle down." It was as honest as I had ever been with a woman, but I figured it did not matter. We would not be seeing each other much longer than another ten days, and most of those days she would probably spend working.

"So you tell me. What are you looking for in your perfect man. Your certainly smart enough and pretty enough not to be single. Why hasn't some Newfoundlander stolen your heart already?" It was a bold enough question, but it seemed to be a night for bold questions. I took another long sip of my black coffee while I waited for an answer. My eyes were draw to her bare feet, swinging freely through the air, and I forced them back up to her face.

I caught him looking at my feet, and all I could think was how glad I was that I hadn’t been running around barefoot with the kids like I usually did, making them dirty. “Hey now, I’m almost twenty three in a couple months! And a bachelor until you retire…sounds like a plan, if that’s what makes you happy. You’ll definitely have stories to tell,” I smiled, though it sounded very lonely to me. “I don’t think I could do what you do, not forever. I’m a big fan of the quite outdoors, you know that, but…I don’t know.” I did know, I just didn’t want to say it out loud. I needed human touch and contact, something you didn’t get much of if strangers were your only company all the time. It wasn’t even conversation that was so important. Just…a hand on the shoulder, a hug at the end of the day. Peter has done a splendid job of filling this need of mine, which is good since it has only grown stronger since we got together.

I smirked when he mentioned that I should not be single, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and looking down as we continued swinging. What was I looking for? “I’m not looking, that’s kind of the idea,” I answered, finally looking back up at him. “I hope I don’t sound melodramatic here, but I really have no desire to…to give someone that kind of power.” I paused, trying to figure out how to explain. This too was something new for me to open up about. “I saw the pain in my mother’s eyes for years after my father left. She had given him her heart, and for what?” I shook my head, frowning now. “I love a lot of people and a lot of things on this island, but that kind of love is not worth the risk to me.”

But the question…it intrigued me, and I simply had to think about it. “But if I was looking,” I smiled, hating to bring the conversation to such a low point before, “I suppose he would need to appreciate nature. And be able to enjoy pancakes on Saturday mornings with me. That’s simply a deal breaker,” I joked, unable to think of any real traits I would want in a man. I really had pushed the entire idea of a boyfriend, much less a husband, away. There was more bitterness toward my father and most men than I wanted to admit.

"Well," I started, "I can certainly understand why not sharing pancakes on a Saturday morning would break the deal and your love of nature I can understand as well." I could not understand why she was not looking and wondered what had caused her to feel that way. I knew that I was not looking, because mine was a hard lifestyle for many folk. If the right woman came along, then that was fine, but until she did, I was content taking companionship where I could get it, and being alone most of the time. It was true that it was lonely, and I longed for companionship sometimes, even if it were only that of a dog, but I always pushed those feelings aside.

"So, here we are, both single and determined to stay so. How sad is that?" I lifted my mug of coffee in a mock salute and then took a drink of it. As luck had it, the movement of the bench swing had not caused me to spill my coffee quite yet. It was a perfectly peaceful night, with the expanse of the stars and the full moon stretched out above us. The light pollution of the city did not interfere with our view. I put a friendly arm around her shoulder, without meaning anything much by it. It was simply a wonderful and peaceful evening with an agreeable and beautiful companion. Moments like this I treasured up, for the long and lonely days on the road and in the air.

(OCC: I am so very sorry for not posting sooner. Things have been really up in the air.)

“So here we are,” I agreed, sighing contently when I felt his arm behind me. I knew he wasn’t making a ‘pass’ at me, just…doing what felt right to him. It felt right to me too. We were quickly becoming close friends, probably because I knew he was leaving soon. It was easier for me to get close to someone and speak freely when I saw no possible consequences. “I don’t think it’s sad, though. As long as we’re doing what makes us happy. Besides, I don’t think determined is quite how you feel. Being determined means you’d fight it even if a lovely opportunity came along.” I smirked, my fearless and naive personality shining through once more.

“You just haven’t had someone make you happier than you are out taking pictures. But one day someone might.” Perhaps someone just needed to show him what he was missing out on. Not everyone needed a lover to be happy, but I have always been big on family. Blood related or not, you need it close.

“Picture this.” With one slow movement I slid down in the bench just enough to lay my head on his shoulder, fitting there comfortably with his arm out like it was. I then tucked my feet up to the side on the bench, leaving the swinging to him and held my mug with one hand rested on my thigh. It was so quiet both outside and inside I was sure everyone had gone to bed by now, leaving no prying eyes to get the wrong idea. “Sitting out on your porch every night finding shapes in the stars above. No matter how crappy or great the day was…you’ll always have somebody to tell it to. A woman that very much wants to listen.” Were men into that sort of thing like women were? I wasn’t sure, but hopefully it sounded somewhat appealing. “You go on your trips with little more than your camera bag always knowing somebody is patiently waiting to see you again, taking care of things at home. She’s loyal, of course, and knows you are as well. Never a doubt. If she knows where you’ll be she sends letters every day. And one day you come home a week early to surprise her…she’s so happy she jumps into your arms before you’re even though the door.”

It was a wonderful imaginary story, and even I was lost in it by then. “You can’t tell me that, if it existed, wouldn’t change your mind even a little,” I added with a smile, tilting my head up just enough to speak softly into his ear. I was oblivious of his ‘personal space’, just doing what felt right. Being close to him like that didn’t bother me a bit, as it didn’t with most. If he didn’t know I was eccentric and unafraid by then, he was certainly going to figure it out quickly. I was the type to say and do things that could seem like flirting without meaning to since I had little experience with how men thought, especially those different from Peter. It was a pretend story about someone else afterall, that’s it.

As she leaned into me, and whispered in my ear, I became lost in the fantasy. It was a fantasy like a sailor's life; always at sea and waiting for those brief moments of passion which highlighted the long months at sea. It was a pleasant fiction. I remember whispering back. "And I supposed that once in a long while, she would come with me, to Bora Bora or Casablanca, and we would have second and third honeymoons, under other stars, but mostly she would keep a light burning for me in our little sea side cottage."

It hurt a little, to be honest, to think about these things. With my sister living in one fixed location, family was not something I had. Her pleasant fantasy was just that, a fantasy. I could not imagine finding such a situation, or a family, for myself. The world had thrown other dice for me, and long time before. First my parents died, and then my uncle. Someday it could be my sister, and then there would only be me. I figured that it was what fate had decided for me long ago, and it felt foolish and selfish to ask any woman to buy into my ill fated existence. Maybe I had done something in another life to deserve this, or maybe God hate me? Either way, any woman who truly understood how my world worked would run, rather than walk away. I was sure of it.

I remember sitting there, with her head against my shoulder and my arm around her, for at least a half hour or so. It was the most human contact I had had in months, possibly years, and I soaked it up like a sponge. Little did I know that there were some prying eyes from the kitchen doorway, or I would have jumped up at once. I certainly would never have wanted to cause Alice any trouble. It was good that I did not know at the time, because I needed that time with her, like a flower needs the sun. In a moment of weakness, I turned my head and kissed the top of her's, lingering for a moment against her hair. "Thank you for the story. It was a real fairy tale, but pleasant none the less."

It was a comfortable silence, and when the coffee was gone I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sounds of the night. I hated that he thought that, that it was nothing more than a children’s story. I felt a strong desire to prove him wrong, but I wasn’t sure how.

“Bora Bora,” I finally spoke up, letting a yawn slip. Who knew what time it was by then. “Sounds pretty interesting to me. I’ll have to watch your blog for pictures of that one,” I smirked. I remember wanting to mention mailing actual pictures, but I thought it would seem silly. In ten days or so he would be off to another destination and another tour guide. It wasn’t worth even the postage.

Finally I sat up with a small groan, arching my back in a stretch. My muscles were stiff from sitting still on a wooden bench for so long. “We should get going. I still need to stop by the pub to drop you at your car,” I said with a soft smile, reaching my free hand out to help him up. “Why don’t you go around the house to the truck and I’ll put these away,” I said, taking his coffee cup. I planned on leaving Sammy there, since he enjoyed it and I still wasn’t sure if animals annoyed Peter or not.

I went through the screen door and through the kitchen, meeting him out front a minute later. If anyone was still up by then, they did a good job of hiding from me. Either that or I was lost in thought. “So what are you doing for the rest of the week here? I figure you’re not staying in the immediate area, are you?” I asked, sounding a bit too hopeful. “I thought it if you’re not sick of me I could call in ill one day. A little white lie wouldn’t hurt anybody,” I said, stepping off the front porch toward the truck, hands behind my back. “I could help with your work, ya know.” I had no idea how, and was hoping I would think of something clever on the spot. I didn’t. “I’ve always heard it’s safer to travel in pairs,” I decided on with a laugh, glancing up at the glistening moon above to avoid eye contact, in case he said no. “I know I can talk an awful lot, but I swear I won’t bother you.”

I would not have cared if she lie to get off every day, to be with me. "You've not been a bother yet, so I suppose you would continue not to be a bother. How about tomorrow? I am traveling around, for the rest of the week, taking in other sights of the island, but it there are other places you are familiar with, I would love to see them with you." The fact was that I had found it harder to work without her that day, than with her the day before. Her insights and humor had proved invaluable. Besides, her mother turned out to be a wonderful cook.

She walked me out to my car, and we said goodnight. I considered kissing her, thought the moment did not seem right. After all, I would be leaving soon, and she did not seem to be the sort for one night stands, or at least I felt she deserved more than that. Instead, I contented myself with a hug. This one lasted a little to long, until we split a little uncomfortably. "See you tomorrow then."

Soon I was on my way back to the pub, with the evening playing over and over on the video player of my mind. I especially played her little fairy tale over again, wishing that it were true, and believing that it could never be. It was to late to process any of my film, so I went start to bed and had a dream about a little cabin and a faithful woman.

In the morning, I woke up early and had a breakfast of poached eggs and toast. The pub sent the food up to my room and I ate while listening to the local news. The weather was supposed to be mixed, with possible thundershowers. Still, there was nothing like a good thunderstorm on the horizon, to make a shot. I packed my equipment up in waterproof bags and got out my raincoat.

Soon I was on my way back to Alice's apartment, for my last full day with her. It felt sad, and final somehow. She could hardly keep calling out sick all week, and it would be wrong to ask her too, though half of me wanted her to do so.

I remember not wanting to leave that night. It was even hard to fall asleep, and eventually I let Sammy into the bed with me so I didn’t feel quite so lonely. Dogs are good for that sort of thing.

The next morning I heard a knock on the door just as I was about to call in ‘sick’ to work. I answered quickly, my smile appearing embarrassingly quick once I saw him at the door. “Hey! Oh, I raincoat,” I said, seeing it in his arms, “is it supposed to rain? I hardly ever watch the news or weather. I know I should, but I just always forget.” I went on about the weather in the area as I went to the couch and stuffed a few things into my bag, how it could be sunny and bright one day and chilly the next, without much warning. I was wearing a pair of shorts and a loose black tanktop, though I was debating changing while I rambled on. Poor Peter, sometimes I wonder how he ever got a word in edge wise with the way I went on at times.

I must have decided the outfit was fine since despite the call for rain the temperature wasn’t that bad, because I didn’t change. Besides, there was a jacket in the car if needed. “Give me a sec and we’ll be ready to go, okay? And no laughing no matter how I sound, got it? If you laugh then I’ll laugh, then the jig is up!” I said, going to kitchen and picking up the landline. I quickly dialed the pub’s number, getting one of the managers, Celestine, on the phone. “Hey Cel, it’s me,” I said slowly, my pitch lower than normal. “Listen I just wanted to- hn…to let you know I’ll be late today.” A pause. “Well I’m just waiting for my stomach to settle. I was up all night with my head in the toilet, but I took something this morning so I think I can-“ The corner of my lips twitched into a grin as I looked over at Peter and gave him a wink, but I didn’t break character.

“Oh- you really think so? Okay, okay, I guess you’re right. No, don’t want to get anyone sick. I will. No, no, no need to come over later. Might go to Mom’s, or somethin’. Thanks. Bye.” As soon as the phone was back on the receiver I smirked, walking back to Peter with a skip in my step, strutting as if I was ‘something else’. “And that’s how it’s done,” I said with a fake look of arrogance before I broke down and laughed. “Mom’s already in on it too, so I’m covered.” I put on my bag just as I had on our outing the other day, a pair of tennis shoes, and nodded toward the door. “So, which direction have you not gone in yet? I’m sure we can find something where ever you’d like to go, just don't want to do any repeats."