Author's Notes/Thanks/Dedications:  Well, a group of girlfriends and I went to Martha's Vineyard this week for three fun (and rain) filled days, and it was beyond hysterical.  The first day we went, we went to a local beach and I got totally inspired, so this is the result.

This is for Nicole; happy birthday to the woman that has changed my life; "I owe you everything, and you owe me nothing."

This is also dedicated to my fab four:  Taryn, Carolina, Kim and especially Jenn, who I'm hoping will call me so we can figure this out.  I'm working with half a brain here, not a pretty sight.  <g>

This has NOT been beta-ed (I remain loyal to my beta [nanny nanny boo boo]), so all mistakes contained herein are mine.  Content Warning:  This is so random, I don't even know what to do with myself.  Continuity and a clear, satisfying ending are not included here, so don't say I didn't warn you.
 

****
Edgartown, Massachusetts
2256 PM EST

I love the sea.

I'd never admit it, especially given the company in which I work, but there's something simply magical about the crystal blue waves crashing upon the shore, slowly pulling and tugging at the tiny grains of sand that somehow mold together to support hundreds of people everyday.

Sheesh, get me out of DC and I start waxing poetic.

I run my hands through the silky yet harsh grains, tracing random patterns next to me, raising my head to stare out at the exquisite Martha's Vineyard sunset.  I'm not quite sure how I ended up here; I vaguely remember driving to National, picking a flight that happened to be to Boston, renting a car and driving till I ran out of highway.  Luckily, I ended up in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, where a ferry took me further away from my problems.

I sigh again at the unbidden but scarily true lie; I *am* running.  Mic scared the beejezus out of me when he told me he had resigned his commission.  After the Surface Warfare ball, he insisted on staying in a hotel rather than my apartment, understanding as he always does, that this kind of surprise has its shock value and that I needed time to digest it.  So, I did what any normally sane woman would do: I decided to digest it six states away.

I cross my arms, bundling myself in my oversized "Vineyard" navy sweatshirt; so much for Marine preparation, I berate myself again as the harsh ocean wind attacks my hair again.  I woke up at 0515 two days ago in a cold sweat and ran out the door, bringing nothing with me except my purse and the clothes on my back.

A sing songy voice pipes up in the back of my head, taking on the persona of Brer Frog from "Song of the South":  You can't run from trouble, ain't no place that far.

Stupid Disney.

The water is choppy tonight, crashing loudly at my feet, and the wind howls like a wolf crying out at the moon, but I hear nothing.  All I hear is Mic's proposal, followed by the conversation on the ferry, followed by the infamous words "I resigned my commission to be near the woman I love."

The woman I love.

But who is the woman Mic Brumby loves?  Is it the ideal that I see reflecting in his eyes every time he looks at me?  Or is it the Sarah Mackenzie that *I* know, the one that loves cold Chinese food at three in the morning during a thunderstorm, and the one that has a secret obsession for Jon Bon Jovi?

I can't help but compare these two women, and the two men that influence her.  Mic knows Sarah, while Harm knows Mac.  Two men are in love with two different women, and I'm alone in a crowded room.

I bury my head in my hands; this side trip is *not* helping any kind of decision-making process.  I'm sick of waiting for Harm, and frankly, I shouldn't have to.  Yes, I understand he has emotional attachment issues, and there's also the whole issue of his string of failed relationships, but come on.  He's almost forty, and I'm not a youngin' either; do we have to be the last people on earth before he makes his move? At the same time, I also can't help but be wary of Mic's over-exuberance when it comes to me.  Sure, it's flattering, but would I be with him because I loved him or because he actually paid attention?

And, that, my dear, is the crux of the problem.

I realize I've been sitting out here, quite exposed (literally and figuratively), for quite some time, so I stretch my tight muscles and start walking towards my bed and breakfast hotel.  As I walk the quaint and quintessential brick streets of fashionable Edgartown, the nighttime silence once again envelops me.  The streets are bare, given the time and the temperature, but it is not a scary silence that you would find if you walked Southeast DC.  Instead, it gives an air of anonymousness, which is something I desperately need right now.

I don't need all the answers right this second, I realize as I walk up the white porch and into my room.  Sure, I'll have to make a decision at some point, but the first thing I need to do is figure out who I am.  I did it during college and during my first years in the Corps, but that Sarah Mackenzie is much different from the one that's brushing her teeth right now.  Before I can make a decision about the men in my life, I have to make a decision about me.

I finish getting ready for bed and turn off the bathroom light, snuggling into the king sized down comforter on the bed.  I move to turn on the TV as the background noise, but stop myself.

The silence is comforting.

In the silence, I find myself believing.

***
The End

Hokey, I know, but whatever.  <G>

Feedback's better than the newest "Winter Wonderland" series…haha, NOT!