Sweeter Than Wine (2 page)

His hotel room was spacious and neat, and he
couldn't wait to get back to it. At least that's what he thought.
Yet, there was nothing there for him, four walls with no one to
talk to. He fought that feeling. That feeling of a twosome that he
longed for again assailed him, but this time he squashed it. He
certainly didn't need another woman. He needed to find out who he
was, what he was. Rude, the lady had called him rude, he smiled to
himself, and maybe she had been right.

He was hungry now and he'd have some
breakfast, and then check out the local recreation facilities.

Manny, his half-brother had told him he could
try some parasailing, sail boating or scuba diving. They all
appealed to him, but he sadly wished he had a familiar woman with
him. Women did have a way of keeping his mind off of things he
didn't want to face.

He mentally scolded himself. He had to start
putting Barbara where she belonged, and not in his future. He'd
dated her forever it seemed and she was right too, it was going
nowhere fast. If he'd cared for her as he thought he had, he
wouldn't have left her so high and dry. No, he never really loved
Barbara; she was the woman his father picked out for him. The woman
he should marry. Only he wasn't in love with her and he finally
realized how ordered his life had been.

Showering and changing he drifted down to the
restaurant. It was slow right now; he presumed a lot of guest was
still sleeping. Only a few waitresses, bus boys, and one or two
guests decorated the restaurant.

There it was again, that lonely gut feeling
he had every time he walked into a restaurant. He was alone. Being
alone wouldn’t bother him except now that he knew he wasn't a
McKay, and that he had no real family, it suddenly did bother him.
He wasn't sure who he was and he needed that root. Maybe he was
losing it, as old as he was what did it really matter? But it did!
His father had left him the details in a letter. He was the bastard
child of some man named John Douglas III, a rich entrepreneur. He
had a half-sister here and he needed to meet her. He needed to know
where his real roots lay, who he was. How could he ever have a
meaningful relationship with a woman if he didn’t' know who he was?
He shrugged away all this information for later. Not now. After
nearly thirty years of being a McKay to find that he wasn't left
him a misfit. This vacation was to explore his real roots, if he
dare.

His brother Manny McKay told him it wasn't
important, they'd always be brothers. However, Sam felt adrift and
until he could come to terms with his roots, he couldn't go on.
Some people needed roots, he needed them.

The waitress had a time trying to figure out
where to put him, the effigy slammed home. He shook his head with
disgust. So, he was alone. He'd get used to it, somehow. Eating
alone was no fun though.

He wished his father had never confessed such
a thing . He'd miss his brother Manny, but he'd keep in touch. They
could be friends. When the waitress chose a table directly beside a
woman in a beautiful white sundress, Sam grimaced. Did everyone
have to be so obvious in pairing him up with another?

Her skin was brown from the sun; her dress
accentuated her full bust. Her legs were muscled and well formed.
Then he cleared his throat and scolded himself. Women were taboo,
from now on. On top of everything else, he didn't need a woman. Not
now at least.

The woman did not look at him. Her hat
covered her face so he couldn't get a look. Just as well, he wasn't
interested in looking. Was he? Good grief, running into the naked
goddess on the beach had stirred him, his mind wandering from its
purpose. Not so, his body had reacted to every inch of her.

He wasn't amused at the waitress choices of
seating. What was he supposed to do invite the lady over to his
table? Is that what everyone in the restaurant seemed to be
thinking? Everyone staring at them as though eating alone was a
sin?

He folded the newspaper in two and ordered
black coffee. He needed some coffee, he had to admit. Without it,
he tended to be a grump.

The woman in the beautiful dress didn't look
his way. He was glad.

How many women wore hats these days?

Scanning the menu, he ordered a huge
breakfast of hot cakes and eggs with bacon and settled back in his
chair to admire the ocean view.

Sipping his coffee he mused over the morning
happening. He had been a real bear to that poor schoolteacher. She
meant no real harm, he guessed. She couldn't possibly know how he
had been feeling. Even she wouldn't have intruded had she known.
However, what was a woman her age doing, skinny-dipping in the
ocean at five thirty in the morning? Her age, he mused, the woman
had to be close to his own age. She must have been twenty-five or
twenty-six. She didn't have that teenage figure, like Barbara. No,
she had full breast, and round hips and, he cleared his throat and
his mind. What in the world was he doing, thinking about breast and
hips this early in the morning? Had he lost his mind entirely? He
told himself he was on a mission, to find the real him, to face his
birth father and half sister and be done with it. Identity!

Nevertheless, the first time he'd even
thought about another woman since his father died told him he was
healing. Men and women belonged together; even he couldn't argue
that point.

"Nice weather we're having, eh?" a gentleman
from the table in front of him said.

Sam smiled at the old gentleman, "Yes, it's
beautiful here."

It seemed obvious that the older gentleman
was a little uneasy eating alone too, although the lady in the
sundress was paying no attention whatsoever. He guessed it didn't
bother her.

"You're not from around here?" the man asked,
wiping his chin and sipping his coffee thoughtfully.

"Actually I've lived in northern California
for twenty years." Men were easy to talk to, perhaps because there
was no threat there. Women on the other hand were a threat, to what
he didn't know. He only knew they were. Coffee, he needed
coffee.

"I'm from Texas. I find the weather here so
enjoyable. And the trees are magnificent."

"I can appreciate the trees myself, sir, one
of the reasons I live in northern California." Sam explained,
testing his coffee the waitress finally brought him, glad for the
easy conversation.

"What business are you in?"

"I'm a forest ranger, actually," Sam said
proudly. Strange that he was so proud of his job, when being an
accountant never solicited that kind of reaction from him. The
satisfaction stunned him.

"Really, you must know the area well
then."

"To some degree, but I've been working in the
Northern California area for a couple of years now."

"Well, I'm retired myself. I was in the sheet
metal business for thirty some odd years. My wife died last year
and I thought I'd see some country, before I join her."

He was making a joke, but Sam had trouble
finding the humor in it. Death was no laughing matter. He missed
his father, and today was the first time he acknowledged it.

Sam immediately related to the old gentleman.
The conversation flowed easily between them. "I'm sorry for your
loss."

The old gentleman smiled wanly, "Eh... thank
you, but I'm coping rather well. There were a lot of things I
couldn't do when she was with me, thought I'd catch up a
little."

"Oh, like what?" Sam asked, keeping the
conversation flowing.

"Deep sea fishing for one. Never been you see
Ellen couldn't swim and hated the water." Sam nodded and
sighed.

"I'm sorry. Well, I've heard there is some
great fishing around about." Sam smiled again.

"I hope so, I've already rented a boat," The
man nodded. "My brother–in-law's idea. He says we'll have a blast.
I hope so. I'm ready."

"Well, good luck then," Sam nodded as the
gentleman finished his coffee and left. He was about to dig into
his pancakes that the waitress brought when a familiar voice
stopped him mid-air.

"At least you're not rude to everyone you
meet," the lady's voice rose with an air of snobbery.

"The lady on the beach, again." Sam turned
his head to find the woman watching him with indignation. He
couldn't stop himself from gazing from her head to her painted toes
in her white sandals. Her wide straw hat had hidden her face from
him or he might have recognized her.

"It is rather odd we being in the same place,
twice in one day, wouldn't you say?"

She rose and started to leave.

Feeling guilty as charged, Sam got up, and
left his breakfast to catch her going out the door, "Wait... I'd
like to apologize."

"Absolutely no need, of course, I think I got
your message, finally…"

"Please," he said and pulled her by the arm
onto the patio, closing the door behind them. "I'd like to
explain."

She looked shocked, "Why bother?"

"Because like you, I don't want to leave a
bad impression on someone I don't know. For the life of me, I don't
know why I was so rude to you. That's not my nature, but this
morning, well…it was important. I was very pre-occupied."

She pulled her arm from his fingers and
twisted about to look at him. "I certainly got that
impression."

He got a look at her too, built like a
beautiful Greek sculpture, with generous pouting breast, and hips
that made her skirt naturally flare. Not like the average models of
the day, but sculpted. Her breast puckered against her dress,
making them more pronounced. In the sundress strained naturally at
the bustline, barely able to hold all of her, and he couldn't help
but notice. He wondered why he couldn't take his eyes from her.
Wondered why his breath seemed to catch when she drew breath.

Again he scolded himself silently for
noticing. What did he ever see in this woman?

"So…go on, what was so important about that
mournful wail you kept making?"

"Is that what it sounded like, a…wail?"

"Yes, that's what it sounded like, like
someone hurting, that's why I ran to see what was wrong. I
thought—.never mind, what I thought. I was obviously wrong."

Sam smiled for the first time that day, "You
were absolutely right. It was a mournful wail. And... I apologize,
but it was—a release for me."

"A release," the woman's eyes widened, as
though he intrigued her. "What kind of release?"

"Suffice it to say, you were right, I was
hurting, on the inside, and it seemed at the moment, such a
wonderful way to release it." Sam explained. "I can't explain
it."

Obviously confused, she grimaced, "I'm sorry
I interrupted you, but honestly, I only wanted to help."

"I can see that now, and I do apologize for
being so rude. I just thought I was alone, and I wasn't."

She stared at him wide-eyed and open mouthed
for a moment, and then slowly her expression changed, "So did
I."

Her mouth hinted a smile.

"Can you forgive me, then?"

"Of course, and I truly am sorry I
interrupted you." She said, her voice returning to a sweet
lilt.

"Good," Sam said and was about to return to
his breakfast when her words stopped him.

"So who hurt you so badly?"

Sam turned around but his smile faded. "Are
you always this forward?"

She frowned instantly. "Forward? I merely
asked a question. Despite my own intentions for the morning, we
happen to have shared a moment on the beach and I was merely
curious as to what could make a man feel so deeply."

Sam considered her for a moment. He couldn't
focus on his hurt, not with this brown haired, blued eyed
seductress staring at him as if he was a Tuna out of water. Had he
been thinking rationally he would have understood that she found
him a bit odd, but he hadn't thought rationally since his vacation
had started. His thoughts jumbled and the hurt magnified. Now he
stared into innocent eyes that clamored for a sense of reason he
didn't have.

He decided that the only thing that would
shut her up was shock so he struck with it. "The death of my life
as I know it."

He walked away without another word.

Chapter Two

As he walked back into the restaurant he
lingered over his own words. That had to have shocked her, but
nothing had come back at him. He should be glad, but again he knew
he was being rude and he didn't like himself very much for it. Why
was he taking it out on this stranger, this woman?

The pancakes were cold, and after a few
seconds of trying to interest him, he put his fork down and got up
to pay his bill.

He went to his room and found the solace of
loneliness staring at him. He didn't need to be alone. He needed
people around him that would force him to move and act like a
normal person.

However, the woman kept creeping back into
his mind as he sat on the edge of the bed and tried to decide what
he was going to do with himself now that he had finally stopped
somewhere.

The old man had talked about a fishing boat
that sounded like fun. He had never deep sea fished before.

Perhaps he should try it. Yes, that was a
plan.

He'd seen a boat rental place down the road a
bit; he'd check it out and charter himself a boat.

As he pulled his bike into the parking lot he
secured it and went straight to the rental office. There was a
young lady in t-shirt and jean shorts sitting behind the desk. She
looked up and smiled as he came in.

"I'd like to charter a fishing boat," he
smiled at her.

"Oh…uh….well, I'm sorry, but this lady has
just chartered our last boat for the day. Could you come back
tomorrow?" the young woman asked, not missing a pop of her gum.

Sam turned with déjà-vu and looked at the
woman he'd been trying to forget all morning…

"You…again?"