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Unrelenting, it wraps around me like a scarf afire, covering me head to foot with blatant disregard. It has found me watching again, waiting for a moment when I will endure less speculation and gain more first-hand knowledge of something, anything better than what I know already. In the meantime, I reach for the sunblock and add protection to my long legs Casual sex dating in fall river ma 2724 freckled arms and face. I might guess he is either obsessive-compulsive or just unimaginative, even bored with his life despite the Casual sex dating in fall river ma 2724 of his dogs and an overall tendency to look better than anyone else around here. Just passing time here, a would-be singer resting her voice until discovered.

Or until I can book another lousy Thursday night gig. This whole plan, spending time with my aunt and uncle while my mother again traipses around Europe with the string trio that has made her famous, with her small but devoted entourage, is an agreement I made with her. For her, not me, soon after she declared me unfit to stay alone one more day or night. Then she called her sister and brother-in-law. All I need is a bed and lamp, a small table and perhaps a wooden chair. I have seen her pictures and awards all my life and could never understand why she gave it up at forty-eight, as she was still winning trophies, getting standing ovations.

Her dancing is what a child like me believed was happiness incarnate, an entrancing perfection. I often tried on her shoes, spinning like a crazed top until I toppled. He owned this rambling house, he had been lonely after many years of widowhood. Jean had found him at his jewelry shop when Casual sex dating in fall river ma 2724 was on a leave with foot troubles, buying more earrings. Everyone thought he was a bit old for her but she declared him her compadre, as if she handpicked him from a raft of flamenco back-up dancers, mutual need and want at first sight.

Ambitious, charismatic, bold sisters from Syracuse, New York. Performers sprung from exceptional musical genes, the daughters of a music arranger and a musical theater actress, both of whom had enjoyed very good runs on Broadway. I looked to the ocean, pulled by its rhythmic waves, light riding each foamy crest, and the sand left smooth, almost delicate as water receded once more. There is no sufficient hiding spot that protects me from this family inquisition, I thought, and the drive to succeed that infects it. My brother is also on the road with his band Ardent Revenge, making good money, gaining fans. I sang with him in early days, then found my own way.

Well, found I loved jazz and also that there was limited need of one more girl singer in the teeming morass of hopefuls. Let the young lady enjoy restorative peace a couple of weeks, right? And Casual sex dating in fall river ma 2724 knows to keep suggestions gentle, open-ended, so she feels she has a final say. Even though I have only known him five years, I believe my aunt picked a keeper. I turned my assertive self on her. Well, and I love you, too. Beyond their walls the landscape was being overlaid with a deepening coral sheen, an elegant body of undulating water and still sand, tufts of grasses scattered about the edges.

No one but a man with two rollicking dogs was visible. He held himself as if entirely alone despite his handsome pets, his gaze directed at the horizon as the sun was stowed away like an opulent fan folded for the night. I was riveted, too, until the dogs started to bark at seagulls and a venturesome cormorant. I headed the other direction, entering a softening darkness, seeking release from months of worry and work to survive. But each step underscored that my dilemma was a toss-up between what it would take to continue singing and make money from it and what had to happen if I was going to find joy in it again.

Time soon became a routine of sleeping, walking or running many sandy miles to keep my breathing and stamina in good shape, eating, playing cards or chess with my aunt and uncle, reading books from their staggering stacks. I fell asleep to its ancient lullaby, music that unfettered my sleep and took me on strange dream journeys. I awakened a bit stunned and more aware than I had been in a long while. But I remained silent more often than not. Singing longed for nothing from me yet. He seemed as engrossed by the elements as was I. We respected the mutual need of privacy.

Dogs are rambunctious creatures not much restrained by human codes, so greeted me freely. I called them Red I and II. No one spoke further of the future, and they were kind, even Jean was gentle, and Albert made me laugh with vignettes about his shop and the tourists. Jean and I tried on her old costumes. As we did when I was a kid, she took me in her arms and taught me dance steps. On the beach I tried the steps on hard sand, chasing waves out, leaping into them. The dancing produced a feeling lightness and freedom, and I began to see what drew her to it and not to making music. I wondered how she could be done with her passion. And I, possibly, mine, when only thirty-one. The thought pierced me.

Then, near the end of this third week I notice I am humming when I see the man with the Reds. It happens a couple more times. He has stopped and is looking my way, hands locked on muscular shoulders as if in the act of massaging sore spots, his bare feet planted as tumultuous blue-green waves rush forward. With honeyed light falling over his flesh he looks nothing short of a statue, a paean to a bronzed Greek mini-god set upon on the beach. I stifle a yelp that is really a slip of nervous laughter. I pivot and start walking the other way. I run fast, I was built for it, and I want to see if he catches up.

I give it another burst of effort but striding up beside me now are the dogs, Red I and Red II and they are emitting enthusiastic barks every few lopes. I rein in my speed, then stop. Bending down, I rough up their large, furry noggins, catch my breath. I am licked on knees and hands. The man is running now, late but with verve. The dogs are panting and looking at the sea, impatient. I rock a little from side to side, a habit I have when anxious. Why did he call me? Is he safe enough? He swipes hands on his shorts as if reading my mind. I balk at the last so settle on the first, then second.

You, too, or staying at a hotel? The last thing I want here is a nosey stranger, someone who needs explanations. All good-looking men seem this way, I think, makers of easy talk that avoids best intentions. We walk quietly a few feet when the dogs are off chasing more birds and whatever else they hear and see that we cannot. He stops to observe them, then turns to me. I am…busy resting my voice, you might say. How can he know this? Who does this guy think he is? I pull up the hood on my light sweatshirt and start walking again. I am not going to speak more of it. Harlan falls in step. Well, lately more of a song writer which I also like.

Just what is it you sing? What do I sing? Is it jazz or is it alternative? Has it most recently been pop or soul? What is it I am doing with my waning voice when I open my mouth on a crowded or dingy stage? Whatever is expedient, whatever pays the bills. What causes people to stop and listen, perhaps cheer me on. Lately, nothing at all. I want to impress him, make him happy he knows found me. The wind settles with a whisper and I let the hood fall away from my face. The main protagonists were Helvetia and Titan. But I got the two puppies around then, after a bad relationship that coincided with my worthless masterpiece.

Do I go back to school and become an X-ray technician or legal assistant? Pain or tenderness or fear. Two strangers, but of the same ilk. He knows just what I mean. I hang onto his hands, feel the wind come up and whip my hair across my eyes. We look at each other, then away.




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