Malibu Love Story: A Novella

Chapter 5: Nighttime Ruminations

AN: A short one.

🌛 🌜 🌛 🌛🌜

Reed settled down in her large, fluffy new bed feeling anything but settled. She was wearing an old T-shirt of Duncan's, for one thing, and her own, damp underwear that she'd washed and dried with a blow dryer that she'd found in the bathroom. The sliding glass door was open to the sound of the surf, which was breaking gently on the beach in a gentle rhythm which should've been soothing, but she was used to the sounds of La Cienega Boulevard, the traffic, the horns, and the occasional shouting from the liquor store below her. And the sounds from Waldo's apartment next door, of course.

It was just too damned relaxing.

It kind of reminded her of Ryedale; the noises were different, of course. In Ryedale, it was the lowing of the cows, the chirping of the crickets, the clacking of the trains and their mournful whistles, everything seeming to work in concert to lull you to sleep. Her neighborhood in West Hollywood always seemed to be calling her to wake, to hurry up and get out of bed and do something, dammit, get writing, get living, whatever.

In addition to her sleeping circumstances being so overwhelmingly soothing, her elbow and wrist were really hurting. She wondered if she could risk taking half a pill with a small glass of wine.

Reed flipped the duvet back and got out of bed, grabbing the bottle of pills and shaking one out into her hand. She snapped one in half along the score line and replaced the bottle. She knew Duncan had a well-stocked wine fridge in his kitchen, and the last thing he'd said before going upstairs was that she could help herself to anything she wanted. They were going shopping for a car in the morning.

She padded to the kitchen and turned on the light that illuminated only the area over the granite island in the middle of the room. Here, too, she could hear the gentle sound of the waves, and saw that the French doors were open to the beach, letting in a gentle breeze.

After first checking the refrigerator to see if there was an open bottle, Reed looked through the wine fridge and found a nice Riesling that she thought she'd like and, grabbing the corkscrew from the top of the fridge, expertly popped the cork and poured herself a scant three quarters glass.

She put away the bottle, turned off the light, and settled down in the darkened living room to look out at the beach, which was illuminated by a nearly full moon. She sipped the excellent wine and contemplated the million dollar view, waiting for the alcohol and pain pill to do their thing. She watched the two foot waves roll in, one after the other, in monotonous cadence, enjoying the sound and sight of the white foam, which looked bluish in the moonlight.

She wondered what Sam was doing.

Who was she kidding? Oklahoma was two hours ahead of California, so he was probably sleeping, so he could be up bright and early for church tomorrow. When she left, he'd been fretting about leaving the bakery in the hands of Carrie and Andrea Sullivan while he went to church. He wasn't sure they could handle things without him on a busy Sunday morning, and had contemplated just skipping morning services and going in the evening, when the bakery was closed.

Reed had convinced him that no one would die if he left the bakery for two hours on a Sunday morning, and that he should go to church because he enjoyed it so much.

This won't be an issue after we're married, will it? He'd written in an email a few months back. I've always felt bad that you're not close to God, but it means you can be in the shop for the Sunday rush, and the Sullivan sisters won't be alone. At least until we have a little one that you have to mind.

Reed had responded to this email with just a smiley face.

As she sat in the dark with her wine, she tried to remember how long ago that email had been. Two months? Three months? Definitely before Valentine's Day, because they'd sort of argued that day. He wanted her address so he could send her something.

If I don't, it will be the first Valentine's Day since we met that I haven't given you anything!

I'll be fine, honest. I really want to do this whole year completely on my own. Please understand just a little while longer? Please?

And ultimately, of course, Sam had given in, because he was just so kind like that, always so understanding, always giving her space, always so patient.

Suddenly there was a tall figure on the deck on the other side of the French doors, fiddling with the screen. It slid open noiselessly and the figure stepped in after wiping their feet on the mat outside first.

Reed thought this was a strange thing for an intruder to do and watched, heart in her mouth, as the tall person walked to the refrigerator and opened it.

"Duncan?"

He whirled around, nearly dropping the bottle of wine Reed had opened earlier.

"Reed? What the bollocks are you doing here?"

"Having a glass of wine before bed. You said I could," Reed replied defensively. "What are you doing here? Or there, or whatever? Outside in the middle of the night?"

"Okay, okay, let's calm down," Duncan begged as he, too, grabbed a glass and came to sit across from Reed in the darkened living room. "Let me get a glass and sit, give my heart a chance to slow down, yeah?"

Reed smiled and finished hers, setting her glass aside. Duncan lifted the bottle in her direction, but she shook her head. She was feeling pleasantly buzzed, and the throbbing in her elbow had subsided for now.

"Sorry I startled you," Reed apologized.

"Me too," Duncan said with a nod.

"So? You were outside? You do that a lot at night? Just what, go for a walk or whatever?"
Duncan shook his head. "I have a lounge chair out there, way out at the end of the deck. There's a walkway, kind of like a dock, except it doesn't go out to the water? The chair's out there, and when I'm sitting in it, everyone knows I'm not to be bothered. I call it the Chair of Solitude." Even in the darkness, Reed could see that Duncan was smiling. "I like to go sit in it at night sometimes, even though obviously no one's going to bother me at this hour, I know. It's really nice. I just look up at the stars, or in tonight's case the moon, and listen to the waves, and kind of zone out. Sometimes I'll get song ideas, too, and I'll come in and write them down."

"Did that happen tonight?"

Duncan shook his head and took a drink of wine. "Unfortunately not."

"Oh, are you having trouble?"

Duncan looked over at her for a few moments and shrugged. "I suppose you won't tell anyone." He drained his glass. "I'm what you call 'blocked," he explained. "The muse has left me, I guess. It's been a tough few months."

"I'm sorry," Reed responded. She knew how it felt. "It's rotten when that happens."

"Yeah, it is." He poured himself another glass. "You sure you don't want another?"

"I'm sure. I feel just right for sleep. In fact, I think I should head off to bed while the sleeping's good. Good night."

"Night, love."

She headed off to bed, wondering if she'd imagined the last word.