Battle Scars...Chapter Two

Talia walked ahead of Greg into the house and threw her bag on the
chair. She went into the den to check the answering machine and he was
right behind her. The sense of deja vu was uncanny, as always when she
felt him place his hand on her hip. Closing her eyes for a split
second, she felt the flip flop in her stomach and then took a step
forward.

"Ahh. You hesitated before you bolted. Caught you." He turned and went
back into the kitchen. Talia glanced at her face in the mirror as she
listened to her messages. While she felt as if she should be glaring,
she saw instead a look of raw vulnerability on her face. Straightening
her posture, she heard herself growl under her breath.
"I heard that. Don't direct that at me."

As she took off her sweatshirt, she saw the small mark on her forearm.
It was white against the tanned skin and it reminded her of the
accidents of their lives. She walked over to him sitting and pointed to
it.

"You showed up at my house in the dead of winter with a toboggan and we
crashed into a tree at the bottom of a hill the size of Mt. Everest."
Then she pulled her shirt off her shoulder and pointed to the round
burn mark on her shoulder. "Ninety miles an hour on your Indian and I
ended up under the muffler." She rolled up her jeans and lifted her
foot to rest on his knee. He traced the thin, three inch scar on the
front of her leg. Leaning her face close to him she whispered, "Hand
gliding is meant to mean off of, not into great big cliffs." She stared
at him with her jaw clenched.

"Are you trying to make a point?" His look of innocence might have
appeared sincere to anyone else.

"I have sixteen scars on my body from your idea of fun. I haven't any
more places to disfigure left now. I'm not going on any more adventures
with you. I needed fourteen weeks of physical therapy, three times a
week when you flipped the snow mobile and sent me into a very
uncomfortable ditch. I still don't have full rotation in my shoulder.
My insurance company made me sign a very scary looking paper swearing
I'd never do anything treacherous again. My lifetime limit on coverage
is close to being done now. I can't take it. Why are you here?"

Greg watched as she rolled her pant leg down and sat in the chair
across the table from him. The two stared at one another. Talia watched
him stroke his chin as if it meant he was thinking carefully. That was
a crock. It was his classic captain's pose.

Greg was a captain for hire. What a job. He'd winter in the Bahamas or
Mexico, summer on the Mediterranean and always be followed around by a
rag tag crew when the time was right. He would make his cash, party
until there was no longer a party, and then move on to another
destination.

They had met in a grocery store outside of Galveston, Texas when he was
cruising the Gulf of Mexico six years ago. He was buying a jar of
Maraschino cherries and she came around the corner too quickly and ran
into him. He dropped the jar on her ankle and it smashed all over the
floor. Talia needed six stitches to close the slice one of the glass
slivers had made on her leg. She should have taken it as an omen.
Instead she spent three weeks crewing on a sailboat, not knowing a
thing about masts or rudders or GPS systems. She rubbed the back of her
head as she remembered how many times the boom had caught her off
guard.

"Which physical injury are you remembering as you do that?" She hated
when he did that.

"Boom."

"Yeah. I thought I could teach you something. You were hopeless." He
shook his head and let a grin slip.

"I've been hopeless at all of it Greg. Are you aware of that?"

Pressing his lips together he tapped his right temple with his finger.
"I know there is one. I have to find it."

She shook her head vigorously. "No. No. I refuse. Leave me to selling
stuff to people. That is what I do best."

He stood up and started to pace the floor. "There is something. I know
we can find it."

Talia shook her head swearing she could hear his words rattling around
inside her brain like nails in some kind of metal garbage can. She
reached in her pocket and looked at the watch he had returned. It was
the last time she saw him. Ironically, he had flown her to Geneva for a
skiing trip that time. He had a place there and she had a wonderful
time for two weeks, injury free. Then she had broken three ribs on the
easy slope and he had left for Key West during the night. She cried the
entire way back to Texas more from the heart he had broken than the
ribs. The sound of his voice brought her back to reality.

"I'm really here to take you on a trip for pleasure this time. I'd like
to make all of it up to you. Thought we could make up for lost
time."

"No piracy on the high seas or frostbite? I'm not flying or driving
fast. I don't even know if I should walk out the door with you after
what you did. I'm even questioning why you are sitting here right now."
She was getting over agitated now and it wasn't pleasant.

"I promise nothing scary or too spontaneous. This time it will be all
about you. I haven't forgiven myself for what happened. I want to make
it up to you." His face was sincere, but she had seen that look before
more than once or twice.

"This time it's about me? I can't wait to hear this."

"You're going to love it. In fact I want to learn from you. We're going
shopping." Her eyes narrowed. It didn't sound dangerous. She crossed
her arms across her stomach. Greg saw the look and knew she was
unconvinced.

"Well, listen. I had this brainstorm. It's genius." His voice was like
senseless blather to her now. He grabbed her by the upper arms and
yanked her out of the chair. His face was close to hers and his eyes
were illuminated as he whispered the word in her ear.

She reeled back and he was a dead man if her eyes were the enemy. She
shoved him aside and threw open the front door. Unable to find her
voice, she gestured wildly at it. Greg calmly walked to it and closed
it softly.

"I knew you'd love the idea."