Deer in the Headlights

Part 46 - Umbrella Beach

[Adam's POV]

The gentle lapping of the water against the cool sand filled my ears with its delicate rolling sound, the motion of the shimmering waves soothing my mind as my eyes traced the patterns and reflections in the vast expanse of water. Sharks aside I was really quite fond of the ocean, having grown up in the Midwest it wasn’t really something I’d seen much of. Of course we had the great lakes but there was something so grand and intriguing about the sea that the millpond still lakes didn’t seem to capture. It was a wild rugged feeling, mighty crashing waves with caps of white; it was a feeling I wanted to savour for as long as possible.

Which was one of the main reasons why I was still sat on the beach.

I must’ve been here for about an hour just sat thinking. My toes scrunching in the soft sand as I gazed out to sea, my mind wandering softly and without a care; it was nice to finally have some quiet alone time. A moment’s reflection and calm before I was pulled back into the rollercoaster that was now my life. But at least I would be home soon, it was just the final leg of the tour left to do in America and then I could be home again.

A smile touched my face as I thought of Brielle.

She’d love it here; I knew how she adored the lakes back home so I could quickly see her settling down on a sandy beach here in LA. I wondered what she would be doing now, it was approaching midnight here so back home it would be even later, maybe she was asleep but maybe she was lying awake. Thinking of me perhaps.

Blinking away the thought I let out a sigh as I realised I should probably be getting off. The tour bus would have to leave soon and I was holding it back, but despite that thought I remained put for a few more minutes. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the feeling but it felt right to stay a while longer.

From the corner of my eye I glimpsed a lone figure walking along the shoreline. They were still quite a way off so I risked a long glance but in the pale light of the moon I could only make out a hazy silhouette. Turning back to the sea but keeping my eyes focussed on the person I swallowed a lump in my throat. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be on the beach at this time; already a few people had walked past me; mostly couples walking side by side holding hands or late night fitness fanatics. The fact that someone was there didn’t really bother me, it was the sense I knew this person somehow that unnerved me a little. Subconsciously I pulled the dark waistcoat around my body as I shuffled a little in the sand, my hand falling to my shoes that still rested beside me, it was probably one of the band coming to find me to take me back to the bus. I guess my time alone was about to be gone.

Glancing back at the person I felt my stomach twist as I saw they were a lot closer than before, their path now heading towards me as if guided by wires. Realising their intent I hesitantly watched them approach, the person was a woman, shorter than myself and by the clothes she wore and the way she moved I guessed probably about my age. The thing that struck me was that it wasn’t any of the girls.

But still the feeling of familiarity clung to me.

As she walked closer I felt my mind searching through memories, experiences, emotions. Somehow I knew her.

It was only when she got within a few feet that I was able to make out her features in the darkness. My heart clattering to a stop.

“Adam?” My thoughts were confirmed in a second as Ann Marie spoke softly. My mouth fell open in shock as I just sat looking up at her, it really was her. I would never forget those sharp green eyes that know looked down at me with a display of sadness but also hope.

“Ann.” I say quietly, she nods and smiles weakly. Swallowing a lump in my throat I go to get up but stop as she holds out a hand.

“It’s ok.” She says before quickly sitting beside me in the sand, nodding sharply I settle back and look across at her. My eyes taking in her features while my mind raced through my memories of her, inevitably it brought up the pain, almost blinding in intensity; but I knew I couldn’t give in to it.