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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781481729666 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | AuthorHouse |
| Publication date: | 04/23/2013 |
| Pages: | 336 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.88(d) |
Read an Excerpt
TIDAL CHOICE
By DAVID BRADFORD
AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2013 David BradfordAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4817-2967-3
Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
REFLECTION
* * *
A waiter dutifully approached the female patron seated alone at the window table of the Towerview Restaurant. She looked elegant, frocked in a red silk dress and possessing thick shoulder-length hair. She wore modest jewelry—a delicate white gold necklace and petite diamond earrings. Their sparkle drew attention to her beauteous face and neck. The rings on her left hand indicated she was married. Her youthful appearance disguised her middle age, partly the result of her fine complexion and pleasant countenance, and partly because her figure reflected her topnotch physical fitness. She had just answered a call on her cell phone and appeared somewhat disappointed yet resolutely patient.
"Good evening, madam," he greeted.
"Good evening," she replied.
"You're waiting for your husband? May I bring you something to drink?"
"Yes, thank you," she answered gratefully. "He might be a little while. There was a collision on the bridge coming into the city because of a squall. Cars are backed up. I think I'll have a glass of wine to bide the time—a pinot grigio, please."
"Of course."
The waiter smiled and left, and she gazed out the window. The city lights were glowing, and in the distance, there were colorful illuminations from scattered holiday displays. It was December, 2009, a couple days before Christmas. The weather in Pennsylvania had been mostly mild. It was an unfortunate happenstance, she thought, that winter arrived the same time her consort traveled from the airport on his return from a business conference in Florida. Today marked their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and all day she had been eagerly anticipating his company and their celebration.
He told her when he called that he had been looking forward to the romantic dinner they had planned last week and that he would do all he could to shorten her wait time by the continuous use of the car horn to prompt traffic along, the thought of which made her laugh to herself. She pictured him behind the wheel with a scowl, muttering all kinds of choice words and phrases she had heard over the years while they drove places together, and decided she was much better off by herself at the table. She reflected on their marriage and wondered how time could have passed so quickly. She was happy, more than happy. He made sure that she was—not by deliberately planning daily events, but by demonstrating constant consideration of her desires. He was her relentless wooer who somehow consistently found ways to interject dalliance into mundane chores and routines, as when just last month he bombastically bet her that he could clean the gutters of the entire house before she could clean the tile kitchen floor so that after she won, she could pick the dinner he would have to cook or buy for her. She loved him for it, and their married life had turned out to be everything she craved when she settled on the fact that he was the one, two and a half decades prior, following a summer weekend stay at the Jersey shore.
She also remembered what an emotionally turbulent chain of events choosing her life's love had been. She had loved another man as well, a very good man destined to achieve, and he had loved her. Complications had existed and arisen: her family had expectations of their own, occupational demands had been heaped upon her, and shocking coincidences affected events. Soul searching under difficult circumstances and extreme emotional pressure, she recalled, had required enormous strength. After much introspection and evaluation, she eventually made her choice, and in the end, she had let herself be guided by pure feeling and trust. She had broken the other man's heart in order to release hers, and after making peace with herself about it, she pursued her true love. She had since lived in gladness with her decision, and now she eagerly awaited toasting their shared life.
Together they had two children, both now in college. Their son, Ryan, was a senior, studying theatre and music, and had a natural talent for acting and performance. He sang and played numerous instruments, and she loved to listen. Their daughter, Lacy, was a freshman. She was academically and athletically able and busy trying to do everything possible. She recalled how for a least a dozen years, she transported and escorted the two of them everywhere, from school to practices, gyms to soccer fields, classrooms to dance studios, and friends' houses to home. Her life had been and remained full, and she felt full of life. The young adults would be home tomorrow for the holidays, and this night was to be special time alone with her husband. Oh well, she thought. He'll find a way to get here.
At the nearby table away from the window sat an elderly couple. They were dressed smartly, and she could tell they too were there to celebrate something. They had finished eating their dinner, and the waiter had cleared their plates. Coffee had just been served to them. The door from the kitchen opened, and four waiters paraded out with a cake and candles. They began to sing in four-part harmony the "Happy Birthday" song. It was the gentleman's birthday; he was eighty-five years old. His wife was all smiles and joined in the singing. They seemed a happy pair and looked at each other with the kind of engagement that preserves over time.
After the cake was finished, the wife, who had glanced over a few times before, looked at her and said warmly, "Hello, my name is Evelyn, and this is my husband, Ronald. You look lovely. Are you alone?"
The abiding woman smiled and said back in a friendly voice, "Hello, my name is Annette. It's nice to meet you. I'm waiting for my husband to celebrate our anniversary. Unfortunately, he's stuck in traffic."
"Would you like to join us for a while?" asked Evelyn.
"I don't want to intrude."
"Oh, hogwash! We would love to chat until he arrives."
Annette laughed.
The waiter arrived with her drink and placed the glass on the table. When he left, Ronald and Evelyn pulled out a chair for Annette, and she moved over to their table. Evelyn smiled and asked, "How long have you been married?"
"Twenty-five years—very good years," answered Annette.
"I can tell. You have a look—a sparkle in your eyes. You're lucky."
Annette smiled. "Thank you," she replied. "They signal my happiness, I guess. How long have you been married?"
Evelyn laughed and answered, "Sixty-three years!"
"Mostly good years!" added Ronald.
They all laughed.
"Do you live in the city?" asked Evelyn.
"We live in the suburbs, on the south side of the city."
"Isn't this setting nice, with the sky view?"
"Yes, it's very pretty," Annette answered with a smile.
"While you wait, do tell us your love story," said Evelyn in an encouraging voice.
Annette smiled back and took a deep breath. "I was just reflecting on it," she answered.
"Then please—go ahead. I love to hear a couple's story."
CHAPTER 2
ENCOUNTER
* * *
A. Vacationer
It was Wednesday evening in late August 1984 when Grant pulled into the Sea Breeze Bed and Breakfast parking lot in Cape May, New Jersey. He had just made the drive from Quentin and Marks, a law firm with an office in the northwestern suburban area of Philadelphia, where he worked as an associate attorney. Grant had graduated from the University of Pennsylvania and three years later its law school, and became a practicing lawyer in the late summer of 1982. He took his inaugural position at Quentin and Marks and quickly earned the respect of the partners. He was assigned to work with and represent several small business owners and officers, and performed such services as business planning, entity creation, and contract negotiations and preparation. He had a favorite client, Jeremy Michael Keller, who was also twenty-seven years old and a hard-working developer and construction contractor. They struck up a friendship after being introduced, and in two years established a cordial and mutually productive attorney-client relationship. "J.M.," as Grant liked to call Jeremy, was short for the names of the several businesses Grant had helped him set up. There was J.M. Real Estate, J.M. Enterprises, and J.M., Inc. Jeremy was the son of Robert Keller, who was the founder and owner of Keller Industries, Inc., a well-known and hugely successful supplier of industrial machines and equipment, and the biggest client of Quentin and Marks. Robert Keller brought Jeremy to the law firm for the handling of his legal matters, and the partners thought it would be a good idea for Grant to assist and advise Jeremy in his businesses. Grant was the one who suggested the "J.M." moniker to Jeremy in order to avoid confusion with Robert Keller or Keller Industries, Inc. Jeremy approved the idea and utilized Grant in starting the companies, and Grant addressed Jeremy as "J.M." thereafter.
Before leaving for Cape May, Grant had hosted at his office a meeting with J.M., who was in the process of negotiating a deal for the purchase of some land. Grant had presented to him a draft of the contract, and J.M. had said that he would review the papers and return them to Grant signed, if they were okay, sometime on Sunday. J.M. had told Grant that he too would then be in Cape May, and wanted to meet Grant at the B&B so that Grant could move the deal forward on Monday.
Grant always enjoyed the drive from Philadelphia to Cape May. The traffic didn't bother him; he had the car radio and listened to his favorite stations—rock and roll, popular seventies, and pop of the eighties. To him, the Garden State Parkway was like a scenic driveway. The view of the trees, the bays and boats, and the skyline of the shore cities from the road transitioned his mind from the pressures of the working world to weekend pleasures. Cape May getaways were not only great fun, but also therapeutic for Grant. The features of the ocean—its beauty, its vastness, and its indomitable being—mitigated his human stresses and put life into perspective. Whenever Grant headed to the beach, he believed that he was heading somewhere special. This weekend would be his last trip to the shore for the summer.
Grant had made reservations at the B&B for four nights. He always stayed at the Sea Breeze because of its reasonable price, location a block from the beach, and big porch. He liked to sit outside at the table and read and do legal writing. Grant had gotten to know the owner/operator, a guy in his late fifties named Charlie, and one of the benefits of their friendship was that Grant was able to book stays even when the vacationing crowds were heavy.
Grant checked in about 8:00 p.m., visited briefly with Charlie, and headed upstairs to take a shower. He then grabbed a couple slices of pizza at a parlor down the street and retired to his room. He felt beat because he had worked fifteen hours on Monday and Tuesday, each. He hoped to relax for a few days, enjoy the sights and sounds of the ocean, and thoroughly refresh himself.
On Thursday morning, Grant slept in and then enjoyed a hearty bacon and egg breakfast prepared by Charlie. They talked about the usual—sports, news, and weather. Topics were numerous because the Olympics had just concluded in Los Angeles, baseball season was in the waning months, and the Eagles were about to begin playing. Grant planned a day at the beach to start his break. Charlie told him the water was warm, meaning seventy-three degrees, but it was supposed to be windy. Grant headed for the sands about 12:30 p.m. He took the standard equipment: hat, shirt, sunglasses, lotion, chair, and umbrella.
The sun was high and hot at the beach, and Grant took care to put on a thick dose of sunscreen, and kept his shirt on, too. His routine was to sit under the umbrella, watch the boats and swimmers, and take a swim after he got uncomfortably hot. Today, the sailboats were out with the wind, as well as parasail and whale-watcher crafts. Grant had sailed on small boats in the past and liked it. He didn't see himself as a boat owner, however, partly because of the expense and regular maintenance, but mostly he thought boating was a lonely experience; a vessel at sea is an island—sometimes peacefully still, and other times thrillingly agitated—but always an island. Grant was a social person, forever interested in observing and interacting with others. The beach was just the place to do that.
The crowd was heavy, and the swimmers and body surfers were out in force. The waves were of good size and rolled in continuously because of the wind, but not too powerful to deter beach fun; quite the opposite, everyone seemed to be romping in and out of the water. Grant stationed himself in his customary spot at the north end of the Cape May promenade, and sat in the sand just a bit behind the high water mark. The tide was rising, with high tide to occur at 6:10 p.m. After baking awhile, he decided to take his swim. He entered the water slowly, giving himself a chance to adjust to the temperature.
Grant made his way through the breaking waves, and when he was submerged to his chest, he dove. The first dip was shocking, but the ocean felt quite refreshing in the heat of the sun. As he often did, Grant swam first in the northerly direction toward the stone wave breaker. Surfers hung out in that area because it was a good place to catch the bigger waves. Grant liked to body surf there for the same reason. Sometimes the lifeguards would blow their whistles at all of them, but Grant didn't consider himself to be a risk taker in the ocean and felt confident in his ability to swim out of or away from riptides. He rode a number of waves in, all the way to shore, and then went back out to do it all over again. When he had satisfied himself surfing the waves, he stroked out to the end of the breaker and just floated. He looked toward the open sea at the passing ships, which appeared high in the horizon from his ocean-top view. He then swam in the southerly direction, back to the point in the water directly in front of his beach umbrella. For a while, he enjoyed bobbing under and out of the water and existing in his own world, until he felt cold. He was about to swim to shore when he noticed the two lifeguards from the chair near his umbrella charging into the water. He hadn't heard their earlier whistles or seen their rescue signals to the other guards, or caught sight of any of the resulting commotion on the beach. The guards, he realized, were not marking him. Just to his left as he faced the shore, an elderly man appeared to have gotten in over his head, lost control, and was choking. A young girl was with him, head out of the water but panicked. Farther to his left, he saw a woman who was also over her head and unable to swim strongly enough to escape the current. One of the guards headed for the woman, and the other guard headed for the man and the girl. Grant realized that he was close enough to the girl to assist. The guard who targeted the choking man yelled to Grant to pull her in; it was all he could do to handle the man, even with his flotation device. Grant quickly got to the girl and told her to take hold of his shoulders and ride his back. She grabbed him tightly, and Grant began breast-stroking toward shore. Her weight and position made swimming a little difficult, but not so much that Grant felt unsure or afraid. He didn't have far to go, anyway, maybe only ten yards, before he could touch the sandy bottom with his feet and walk them both in.
Grant got to the shallow water without difficulty or delay. The little girl appeared to be scared yet brave. She didn't cry, but she didn't speak either. Meanwhile, the two lifeguards had made their respective rescues and pulled the woman and man out of danger. The woman was walking out of the waves, and the man was catching his breath as he stood in the wet sand with the guard beside him. Grant helped the girl get off his back and held her hand as they walked toward the shoreline in the shallow water. An excited woman came running from the beach with her arms out, and the girl went straight to her, and they hugged. She was obviously the girl's mother. Grant smiled at them. He glanced at the man, who now looked to be fine, and observed that he and the girl were together. The girl's mother embraced the man as well, and then the two of them turned to Grant and thanked him profusely. They both shook his hand, and the woman gave him a hug. Their gratitude far exceeded, Grant thought, the effort of his deed. The woman who had been in trouble in the water, he observed, was not in party with the man and girl, and she was being greeted by and receiving hugs from her own family. The guards went back to their chairs, and the one gave a nod and a wave to Grant. The crowd that had gathered on the beach applauded the guards and acknowledged Grant, too.
Grant smiled at the girl and affectionately put his hand on her head as he walked past her and her mother toward his chair and umbrella. He felt good about the outcome and having had the opportunity to render help. He returned to his station and sat down and rested, a little tired from the swim and rescue. He put on his shirt to warm himself and adjusted his chair to be in the sun. He dried off quickly and soon felt hungry. He remembered that his cousin, Anthony, and his girlfriend, Jayne, were coming to Cape May to have dinner with him. They had a place in Wildwood, which was only a fifteen-minute drive from the north. Grant packed up his beach gear and gave another look in the direction of the man and girl. They were back at their family site, seated in lounge chairs and wrapped in towels. The girl's mother was handing out drinks from her seat in the sun.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from TIDAL CHOICE by DAVID BRADFORD. Copyright © 2013 by David Bradford. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Table of Contents
Contents
I. Reflection.................... 1
II. Encounter.................... 5
A. Vacationer.................... 5
B. Appearances.................... 11
C. Competitions.................... 30
D. Frolic and Romance.................... 53
E. Pathways.................... 102
III. Changes.................... 111
A. Conference.................... 111
B. Celebration.................... 114
C. News.................... 127
D. Holiday.................... 140
E. Executorship.................... 162
F. Doctors.................... 165
G. Fatherly Advice.................... 171
H. Motherly Advice.................... 174
I. Chamber Banquet.................... 177
J. Sunday Drive.................... 181
K. Private Night.................... 187
L. Team Reunion.................... 189
M. Honeymoon Idea.................... 199
N. Excursion.................... 202
O. Opportunity.................... 217
P. Discoveries.................... 224
Q. Contemplation.................... 232
R. Confrontation.................... 235
S. Inquiries.................... 254
T. Visitor.................... 256
U. Recovering.................... 260
V. Searching.................... 264
W. Follow-Up.................... 274
X. Occupational Duty.................... 277
Y. Second Follow-Up.................... 289
Z. Moving.................... 291
IV. Resolution.................... 304
A. Surprise.................... 304
B. Final Lead.................... 308
C. Reunion.................... 312
V. Anniversary Together.................... 320