3 - Reed

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Reed Davis rubbed his temples and sighed

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Reed Davis rubbed his temples and sighed. He looked at the draft blueprints on the large computer monitor. It was dark outside. The rest of the world was home feeling satisfied after a decent meal and enjoying the evening. Some of his friends were probably giving their kid a bath. He didn't want a kid yet, but he'd be happy to be streaming a mindless series instead of working at becoming his father. Truthfully, he would never be his father. As much as he liked women, he didn't have the same needs as his father. Somehow, the successful man needed to validate himself through women, at least that was Sasha's theory.

Reed did very little else besides work. Anytime he could get away, he drove north to visit his step-mother and surf. He surfed year round in a wetsuit to protect him from the frigid Atlantic Ocean. Surfing was even better with his friend Robbie, who had moved to Maine just before Christmas. Lucky for Robbie, but not so much for Reed, his friend was too busy being in love to hang out for anymore than a surf and a talk. Did he want what Robbie had? Some day he did, but as he raked his fingers through his thick brown hair, he would rather have a project he felt passionate about.

His other passion was ice hockey. He had played since he was a kid. He probably would have quit when he advanced past rugby on ice for forty-five minutes on Saturday mornings, if not for Sasha. His mother could never have driven him to early morning practices or traveled to weekend tournaments. His father had good intentions, but worked too much to be a hockey dad. Sasha took on the role of hockey mom with gusto. His stepmother cheered for him and made friends with the other parents on his team. She supported everything from fundraisers to team dinners. For a woman who wasn't a mother, she was the best mom in the world.

On Friday nights, he played in an under forty men's league. Occasionally he played on Tuesday nights too, but it was a challenge to make the time. Being on the ice was almost as freeing as riding his board.

After stretching his neck, he looked at the time. His stomach had been hungry for an hour. Eight-thirty. He needed to call it quits and get a bite to eat. When he stood up, he looked over the grey fabric covered cubicle wall. No surprise, his father's office lights were on. He had seen him after lunch when he requested Reed work on a proposal for a commercial shopping building.

Reed couldn't conjure up passion for a fifty-thousand square foot strip mall complex. He might as well be designing boxes. Four-sided with a door and some windows. He preferred using his skills towards his third area of interest. His father referred to it as a hole he shoveled money into or a money pit. Reed had purchased a small Cape Cod style home circa 1950. The renovation process was slow trying to make the tired rundown home modern again. He contracted for most of the work because he was better at conceptualizing than doing. He viewed spending money on his house as an investment. The jury was still out on whether he would make a life for himself there or turn it over for profit.

It was hard to see the future when he had been in a dating rut for months. At twenty-nine, he didn't dread the big three-oh. He wouldn't mind celebrating with someone with soft curves and smelled better than the locker room at the ice rink. At his age, his father had been married twice. Reed hadn't had a relationship that lasted longer than nine months. He often blamed his father for his dating woes, so he worked hard at being nothing like Davis. He would be happy to have faithfulness as his middle name. Still, he had sabotaged a few relationships. Commitment was hard when the man he admired most didn't have it in his DNA. In the past, he was fine with the girl breaking up with him when he became emotionally distant, but in a few months, he wouldn't be in his twenties anymore. It was time for a novel approach.

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