Out to Sea

November, 1974

Brandy knew with every ounce of her being that Andrew would return to her the following year. He had started sending her letters a week after he left and, while she was unable to return the sentiment, each word written in his messy handwriting warmed her heart, filling her with an overwhelming amount of love and pure joy. The letters were few and far between, but she treasured each one he had sent. On lonely nights, she would read and reread letters until she fell asleep, surrounded by slightly tattered pieces of paper that were stained with coffee that he had no doubt spilled while writing and her own tears. Her previous feelings of foolishness for waiting for him were long forgotten, her desire to be loved by him pushing out any doubt in her mind that he would come back. She only wished time would go by faster, allowing her to reunite with the man that had made her feel such intense feelings despite only seeing him a few days a year.

November seemed to go by even more slowly than the last 11 months, each day only dragging on longer and longer as she approached the end of the month. The last letter he had sent her was two months ago, telling her he was in Oregon and that he would see her soon. Brandy waited patiently, though, letting the anticipation build in the pit of her stomach. She knew that it would only turn into an abundance of euphoria the second he walked through those tavern doors.

After what seemed like an eternity, the final week of the month had finally arrived. The excitement she felt made her skin tingle, practically buzzing with the overarching need to feel him embrace her again and run his fingers through her hair. Those around her noticed her excitement as well, wondering if their favorite tavern girl had taken a lover or simply gone insane. She did not wish to talk to them about the foreign man who had made her feel like she would spontaneously combust at any moment. She feared that the men who had seen her grow up would either scold her for giving her heart to a man who would always belong to the sea first and foremost or make too big of a deal out of it. She had heard one too many times that she would make a good wife and she did not want to think about that.

Daydreaming about a life with the man who could only promise her a week at most over a year would only leave her disheartened and questioning what she was doing all but committed to him rather than someone who grew up in near her. Her mother had always gushed about how she would find a nice boy from a good family in town that would choose her over everything. A part of her wanted that, too, but she could not let him go. Andrew had shown her overwhelming kindness and blanketed her in the type of unconditional, unadulterated love that she craved. Even if he would only see her for small moments, she would take what she could from him, letting him remain in control of her heart until he proved himself unworthy.

On the last Thursday of the month, Brandy felt that ever-growing anticipation in her stomach reach its peak, every single nerve in her body on high alert. The waiting had simply become too much, an irrational part of her brain practically begging the universe to push him through those doors. As fate would have it, a particular feeling overcame her as she took an order from a man that had just sat down. She could feel a familiar pair of eyes basically burning into her head as she finished up with the sailor that sat in front of her.

Brandy turned slowly, not letting herself get too excited in the event her gut was misreading the situation. Her eyes flicked over the room, desperately searching for those dark green orbs. As she landed on that handsome face, however, it was as if all of that excitement had burst from her skin as she waltzed across the room, practically shaking as she approached him.

As she stepped in front of his much taller frame, she all but flung her arms out and around him as he pulled her to him. "Hello, my love," his sweet voice floated into her ears as his hands found their way around her waist. He kissed the top of her head. "There's nothing sweeter than you," he breathed out almost mindlessly.