Flowers of the Sea

Alex slowly took in the horizon in front of him. Being out on a boat was like a second home to him. And honestly, it was his primary home. Watching the horizon spread out for endless miles, he’s alone in the boat who took on the shore as if it was just a simple strip of land between another valley of water. Another place to explore. He side softly as he realized the ships on the horizon were no longer his place to hide. He realized it was time to get back and begin the task again tomorrow.

As shoreline became closer, his eyes took on the shore as if he was looking for something. Each time he went out on the boat for a swim or a few moments of fishing, there was a girl who waited at the piers. She had hair the color of saffron. He always looks for those long wild red strands reflecting the skies beautiful rays. She stood out to him more than the lighthouse on the northern shore. Every time you found her, she was waiting at the shore with or without his dog Elliot. That mutt just adored the young girl. She spoiled that dog rotten. Anyone who knew her or knew of him wouldn't be surprised. That dog was just a manipulator better than the most trained criminal.

Easing his boat back in the marina, she trotted up to him. Her brilliant strands fanned behind her like the branches of a willow in a wind storm. Her green jacket clashed horribly with her hair but he remembered how she came to own it; he couldn't begrudge her for it. Elliott whined low and paced about his legs as he scented the girl. Making quick work of securing the small vessel, he grabbed his rush pack and helped the dog to the wooden pier. Her name was Jenn, short for Jeanette and she would just about fight anyone that dared to call her that.

Alex chuckled as the dog’s large form embraced Jenn. He was a head taller than her on his hind legs as he licked her face and neck affectionately. Her liquid honey eyes spotted him as she eased the big puppy back to all four paws. Their eyes met and he wondered what drew her carnation pink blush.

“Welcome back ashore.” He took her words in and let them marinate in his synapses. The words were soft, dainty as the cottonwood seeds that litter the yard in fall. Alex felt his heart skip as she gave him a shy but purposeful smile. It played on her featured like a whisper in the night but he spotted it. He knew it belonged on her features.

He heard welcome home. The subtle dip of her body away from the water and how she never walked directly to the boat as if it would grab her against her might and submerge her deep. Keeping her shy heart close on his mind, they fell in step as they made the walk to the little hovel his dad had left him.

He hadn’t noticed that her hands were unusually empty but he didn’t question it. Shortly, he saw the small two-bedroom shack appear before them as they came around the bend. Elliott ran ahead chasing the butterflies flapping across the road as if playing the big bad wolf chasing the three little pigs.

Not a word was spoken between them as she opened the front door and stepped aside so you can enter his own abode. He noticed that the old newspapers he left on the table, there were nowhere to be seen. And even though the shack was old, she had kept it up for him while he had been gone. On the long small kitchen table, there sat a small vase with wildflowers adding a bright cherry appearance to the small area. The four burner stove sat in the corner with various pots with lids covering their fares. She quietly worked her way over to the cabinet where the dishes set. And she moved around the small area fixing his plate, he walked over to the first door. He noticed absent-mindedly that the squeak that had been plaguing him each time he came home, it no longer alerted his self to his presence. Casting a small glance back at the young lady, he felt his heart swells just a little bit more.

He sat the packed down quietly inside the door and toed off his work shoes. Alex walked back into the small room and took his place at the table. The rich smells didn't do the food justice. On his plate set a meal fit for a king and he was just a poor beggar. He noticed that she sat her plate to his right side and turned back to the fridge. She pulled down a heavy bottom glass and put three ice cubes inside before pulling the scotch from under the sink.

Waiting to start his meal, he waited till she found her seat again by his side. The flush on her nose from earlier returned in full form. If anything, it almost highlighted her freckles cross the bridge of her nose. Though he loved being out on the water, Alex found pleasure in the simple moments of domestic bliss. He hadn't the courage to make anything official with her because he was afraid. But he wanted to treat her better than any man ever could. Even though he was unsure of her feelings, he was resolute in his.

Pushing aside his thoughts, He moved the fork to his mouth. The richness of the gravy that was caring fully poured over his mashed potatoes was full of flavor and depth. It tasted like home and ancestral cooking. It had body and depth like the heart of the ocean. He hadn't realized it but he let out a soft groan as the flavors massaged his tongue and tantalized his palette. He hadn't realized that at the same time, he closed his eyes.

He looked over at Jenn and felt his own cheeks flush. Her lovely heart-shaped face had that ever present pinking that seemed to linger across fair cheeks. Her pupils seemed dilated as they focused on the fork that left his mouth in a slow drag as of trying to take every flavor from the metal.

She cleared her throat gently before continuing with her own first bite. She looked at him out the corner of her eye and he was intrigued. The corner of her mouth turned up softly as a sharing a secret smile with her inner self. They continue the delicious meal and silence, only sound to be heard was the utensils scraping the plates almost leaving sounds reminiscent of Morse code, and Elliott.

Alex mover to collect the dishes but she stood and took the from him and shook her head. She nudged his nose with her own since he had not straightened to his full height.

“Bathe and relax. I have this. Elliott will keep me on task.” Before Alex could argue, he heard a grumble come from Elliot who had been laying under the table the whole time. She smiled, and softly moved her hand to cover her mouth as she giggled girlishly. He felt his heart flutter as her whole being was on display. Before Alex knew what happened, he found his self grabbing clothes from the bedroom and putting his self in the bathroom to clean up.

He blinked. Each time she did that, he mentally accused her of witchcraft. It was almost as if his brain wasn't his own when she was in the room. He laughed and gently shook off his own paranoia. Moving swiftly but efficiently, the shower was complete, and fresh clothing had been secured.

As he finished dressing, he turned the shower head back on to rinse down the tub. He wanted to play a little bit of tub and tile cleaner, since short is freshness of course. He peaked his head out the restroom to ask where she had placed the cleaning products that he had purchased. Yet, his fingers hurt from seeing the marks on her back. They were older bruises and painted the fair skin in various shades of green, blue and purple. He saw her head laid upon her arms as her frame shook silently. He noticed Elliot had his head laying on her lap.

Every time he saw her, she seemed to be ok. She carried herself like a large ship in the sea crossing the horizon. Tall, strong and stout. She carried the weight of every burden with class, dignity and poise. But like every big ship, there may be problems underneath it all. Scrapes in her hull, rivets that were hollowed with rust. The dilapidated flags and sails or even old outdated equipment for navigation. Things that could be faulty long before most took the care to replace.

Every time he came back from a small trip off the coast, she had marks. Each time he asked, he never got an answer. She would draw herself taller and give him a look that would make him shrink back like a child who had angered their parent. And he would let it go, silently letting her shoulder the pain herself. In his own way, Alex tried to make it easier on her. He tried to show his care and concern quietly so as to not add another burden to her already too full load. Even if it was something small as amongst his fishing, he found oysters with small pearls, he would try to collect them and have them strung into a small pair of earrings or set into dainty hair pins to adorn the lush waves. If he saw a beautiful flowers, he would try to get them and press them into pages of a journal.

Among those pages was his heart. Alex knew she deserved every ounce of love that his whole being could contain, but that mentioned fear, it kept him from verbalizing his emotions. It kept him more silent than the depths of the seas and waterways he explored.

Alex knew his role well. He was a tugboat. He was a tugboat that was strong and stout and nimble enough to guide the large ship into the small harbor. He had to be strong to ensure no harm would come to the large ship for its unloading. And when he saw that ship was safe, he went back to his place aside and waited for that vessel to need him. And, again he would return to protect the water worn sides and salt eroded metal hull and fastenings to ensure it made it home safe each time.

Silent as a sail boat with no wind, he came over to her and wrapped his sun tanned and around her. Pressing soft kisses into the strands with care as he tried to avoid the makings on her frame, he began to rock while humming softly like he was confusing a hurry child.

Alex lost track of time as they embrace awkwardly and lost themselves in the smell of sea air, slightly wilted wildflowers and each other's unique scent. All the while, wondering if she would ever find her place in the horizon.