When First We Practice...

Prologue/Chapter 1

Prologue

Jeff Bowen's working career ended at the age of forty-eight. Early retirement hadn't been an option; new technologies spawned the demands of potential stockholders and the first step to accomplishing that was the culling of dead wood .

Jeff was dead wood.  

His package had been considerable but it was now his sole income source and without investments or a pension plan, which he never thought might be a good idea, abruptly saw him seven years early on the street with few or no prospects.

He had to admit to himself that while he never put much stock in faith, his decision to take a day off from worrying and spend it down at the beach people watching and maybe enjoying a large latte, soon had become a huge intrusion in his life.

CHAPTER ONE

He leaned on the weathered wooden railing of the boardwalk breathing in the heavy, damp air and staring out at the lake, as a feeble breeze barely rippled the water. Tiny pieces of driftwood and occasional litter from departed sunbathers lay scattered  across the dull grey sand.

A young woman jogged past, headphones clamped over her damp hair and a panting terrier close at her heels. He felt the vibrations in the railing and imagined the nails working their way gradually out of the planks under his feet.

The mild weather was bringing more people out walking and the solitude of early morning ended with the clump of more runners, noisy children and the most rude and disruptive of all, cell phones. He sighed and pushed off the rail, donned his sunglasses and crossed into the green grass of the park.

An older man in a futuristic helmet and action hero tights blazed past him on inline skates, arms swinging rhythmically with each gliding stride. He paused and watched the skater's disciplined style for a moment and then made himself comfortable on one of the park benches.

 At first the woman was a silhouette with the sun directly behind her as she strolled casually toward his bench facing the lake. As she neared he could make out the relaxed flexing of her hips and the bounce of her hair. Surreptitiously enjoying the fit and trim, loose-limbed walk,Jeff considered that she was about thirty, and drawing more than than his own admiring glance.

He sipped from his cup, keeping her in his peripheral vision, jerking up when she suddenly flopped down on the bench near him.

"Spectacular day isn't it?" Her voice was a touch smoky, a fitting adjunct to the nonchalant manner with which she tossed her longish brown hair.

"Yeah, it really is." He turned to take in her profile and instead found himself staring into a pair of innocently open brilliant grey eyes.

"I love coming down here at this time of day." Jeff just nodded. "Do you come down here often?"

"Ahh, no, no I don't. I'm uh- I'm involuntarily retired and today is my hang out, feel sorry for myself, but enjoy it anyway day." He tried a self-deprecating smile and was pleased to see she returned a dazzling one of her own.

"Are you between jobs then?"

"Not really. At my age there's usually only one side, no in between. You are in or you are out."

"Oh come on, you aren't that old." She turned and brought one knee up on the bench, her arm along the backrest.

"Oh my, you just made my day. I should offer to buy you one of these." He reddened a little at his proposal.

"I just might accept your offer . . . I'm Jessica."

"Jeff" He responded too quickly and caught the twinkle in her eye. "Uh, Jeff Bowen."

He shifted his cup to his left hand anticipating an offer of hers and when she did he felt a shiver of pleasure at the light touch of her fingers in his. "I'd be happy to treat you to an all fat, sugar filled, and carb-laced latte from over there." He tipped his head back toward the café in the park.

She laughed and nodded agreement. "That sounded like you were trying to scare me off." They both stood and began strolling toward the café.

An hour later, Jeff was about thirty bucks out of pocket and totally mesmerized by the woman Jessica; her smile, her sparkling eyes, the toss of her lustrous hair and the laugh. The laugh was authentic and throaty, exactly the right extension of that smoky voice. She drew him out, learned all about his likes and dislikes, his politics, religion and status and with little or no effort. He was a willing subject.

On the other hand, Jeff hadn't even learned her last name let alone any personal information and as he watched her walk away through the park and disappear into the busy street he wasn't entirely sure she had been real.

The next day, behaving as a teenager in puppy love, Jeff was on the same bench at the same time trying to appear relaxed and casual. He thumbed through the magazine he'd picked up for a prop but his eyes kept flicking down the length of the boardwalk. Would she come again today? Would she stop or just wave hello? Should he try to engage her interest in something they might do together?

He berated himself for a fool, sitting on a bench hoping to meet a woman young enough to be his daughter, which he didn't have, but nevertheless, he was making excuses for his predicament and it angered him to think how silly he must appear.

She was there. Alone and traveling at the same lazy pace right toward him. Jeff pretended to concentrate on the magazine but all his senses were twanging as he heard her steps nearing the bench and when they slowed it was all he could do to keep from jumping up in the air.

"Hello again." That voice.

"Huh- oh hi! Back for more sunshine and fresh air?" He tossed the magazine aside too quickly and she smothered a tiny smile.

"You too, I see."

"Yeah, well, as I said the other day, feeling sorry and hanging out."

He had to shade his eyes to look up at her, hoping she would sit.

"Would a small enterprise erase your blues and make you a little happier?"

"I don't understand." He shifted to get the sun behind her head and saw that her face was set in a serious expression.

"There's something I need done that would pay well and be of immense help if you're interested."

He stuck out his lower lip. "Well sure, I guess. What is it?"

"Let's go to my place, I need to show you what I'm talking about."

She stepped back as he stood and as if they had been friends for years, took his arm and steered him into the park.

Suddenly a fence began rising in his mind and he shelved some of his earlier enthusiasm.

"Wait a sec, your place?" His defenses jumped to attention and he deliberately hung back.

She laughed and he felt embarrassed. "This isn't a seduction Jeff. What I need to show you is in my apartment . . . honestly."