Distant Shores

She didnt know what else to say. Once, it wouldnt have mattered if it were raining or snowing. Being together was the point. Now, even the weather came between them.

He moved in beside her, touched her shoulder and said softly, "Im sorry. "

The shame in his eyes almost undid her. It took her back in time. For a second, all she could see in the man standing beside her was the boy shed fallen in love with all those years ago. "Youll get another chance, Jack. "

"I love you, Birdie. "

This time, she knew he meant it. "I love you, too. "

"So, why isnt it enough?"

Elizabeth wanted to look away. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Birdie, this is the discussion you always want to have, isnt it? The perpetual, burning question: Whats wrong with us? Well, now Im asking it. Why isnt what we still have enough?"

"I want it to be. "

"It shouldnt be this hard," he said in a voice so soft she had to strain to hear it.

What she said next mattered; she knew that. They so rarely dared to approach the truth of their unhappiness. But she couldnt imagine being honest, saying Im afraid we dont love each other anymore. "I know," was all she could manage.

Jacks shoulders sagged; his mouth settled into a frown. "You exhaust me, Elizabeth. " He drew back from her. "You moan and whine about how unhappy you are, but when I finally try to discuss it, you clam up. "

"I didnt say I was unhappy. " She wished instantly that she hadnt said that, that shed been truthful. But it was so . . . big . . . what they were circling now, and it frightened her.

"Of course not. You never actually say anything. "

"Why should I? You never listen anyway. "

They stared at each other, neither one certain of where to go from there. Woven into the silence was the fear that one of them would finally admit the truth.

"Okay, then," Jack said finally. "Im off to work. Maybe today Ill score that big story. "

With that, they merged back onto the comfortable highway of their lives. Jack might have briefly hit his turn signal, but in the end, no lane-changing was allowed.

Jack stood in front of the stadium, freezing his nuts off. A chilling breeze whipped through the parking lot, kicking up leaves and bits of fallen debris.

"There you have it," he said, giving the camera one of his patented PR smiles. "The two teams competing for this years State Boys B-8 football championships. They might be small in size and number, but they more than make up for it in spirit and determination. From downtown Portland, this is Jackson Shore with your midday sports update. "

The minute the camera light blinked off, he tossed the microphone to his cameraman. "Shit, its cold out here," he said, buttoning up his coat. With a quick wave good-bye, he walked back to the station. He could have waited for a ride, but the techies were taking forever breaking down their equipment.

Once inside the stations warmth, he got a double tall mocha latte and headed into his office; then he sat down at his cheap metal desk and tried to think of something to do. Nothing came to mind. He got up and went to the window. Outside, the day was as gray as pipe metal. A drizzling rain fell in strands almost invisible to the naked eye. Stoplights threw beams of red and green light onto the wet pavement.

He could always go down to the college and see what was up with the Ducks, but their basketball team didnt look promising.

Maybe something was going on with the Trail Blazers . . .

There was a knock at his door. "Come in," he said, not daring yet to turn around. He knew hed have to look "up" for whoever had just walked in, but in an end this dead, sometimes it took a few seconds worth of effort to draw up that PR smile.

"Mr. Shore?"

Finally, he turned. It was Sally something-or-other, one of the stations new production assistants. She was young and beautiful and ambitious. Hed recognized that ambition the first time hed seen her. Looking at her now, seeing the passionate fire in her gaze, made him even more tired. "What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to thank you for Tuesday night. "

Jack thought for a minute. "Oh, yeah. The Bridgeport Pub. " A bunch of the producers and videographers had gone out after work. At the last minute, Jack had invited Sally.

She smiled up at him, and he was caught for a minute, mesmerized by her dark eyes. "It was really nice of you to invite me along. "