The view from the top of the tower that August was spectacular and refreshing. I had needed that for some time.
Reluctantly, the way one does when it would be nice to just stay right where one is and not have to move, I turned away and leaned back against the railing. It was an effort to extend perhaps just a little longer the time there in the sun and with a magnificent vista all around me. I had not noticed that anyone else had come up. The access door to the upper level was creaky and wanted oil on its hinges, and I thought I would have noticed. Nevertheless, there she stood, some twenty feet away on the other side of the platform, gazing out towards the bay and the port and the mountains and forest beyond, enjoying apparently as I had been the panorama of the broad countryside spread out below. For me the scenery of interest suddenly became much more proximate, and my movement to depart was arrested altogether.
She was a very attractive young lady.
Her face was turned away from me, of course, but I took rapid inventory of what I could see... and then slowed my perusal, since I was now in no hurry whatever to move onward. Her auburn hair was long and flowing down off her shoulders, the light wind playing with loose tendrils. She wore a white linen short-sleeved blouse and a beautifully flowered skirt that reached to a bit below her knees. She was standing very still, maybe even tense, taking in the refreshing view in big gulps perhaps, as I had been, and finding it lifted her spirits to do so. Perhaps. It was pleasant to imagine that she was, anyway. As I watched she relaxed and leaned on her arms on the heavy railing, and shifted to one leg and, in a delightfully feminine way, slipped her one bare foot out of her Scandinavian clogs and wiggled her toes in the fresh air.
Well, maybe she was seeking some relaxing get away and enjoyed the change of pace up here on the tower. After a few minutes enjoying the view myself, while she shifted again to allow the toes of her other foot some fresh air as well and the wind danced delightedly with her hair, I decided that there was nothing in my day that was so pressing. There was enough flexibility in my self-imposed schedule to allow an occasion to develop where I might meet this young lady. I had just UPS'd off the CD and hard copy print out of my book to the publisher and mailed the three bills that were demanding payment, and plans for exploring some of the waterfront were purely of my own making.
There had been little interest in meeting another woman for several years now. The last one took her leave after years of togetherness and left me bereft of the softness and cheery companionship that had meant so much. Only in the process of bringing this book project to a conclusion was the confidence in self returning that allowed me to imagine I might successfully seek out the acquaintance of another. So far no suitable candidate had appeared on the horizon.
The length of the interlude was mostly of my own creation, I supposed. Still, even casual friendships with women were selective efforts for me. Perhaps I was just picky, but it was important to me that the friendship have some substance and depth, and there was a dearth of opportunity to meet women of a comparable inclination not already otherwise involved. I turned away from the young lady beside the rail so that, should she turn around, it would not be quite so obvious that I had been staring; and I had been staring and for how long I was unsure. Something had happened to my senses and my awareness of the passage of time was interrupted by her having captured my attention. Even continuing to observe her with sidelong glances was sufficient to push easily other objects from view.
Mid to late twenties, at the very most early thirties, I judged; no, probably less. Rather taller than many, about 5-10 or so; slender but not thin. Her legs, ankles and bare feet reflected her overall trim figure. Her long hair caught highlights from the sun and accented her delightful appearance. She was dazzling, and inside I could feel some sparks flitting here and there as circuit breakers began tripping off the line. I turned aside; for the first time in a long winter my heart was driving me to attempt to engineer some appropriate situation in which I could make her acquaintance.
Earlier, I had decided that I would not appreciate a woman observing me from afar and then simply expecting me to fall like some ripe fruit into her hands, and that therefore the same criteria would apply in reverse should some lady catch my eye. This lady
did
catch my eye, and from my own resolution I determined that some overt approach to her was the only way in which I could expect at all to make a positive impression. Thus, determined and motivated, I moved at first closer and found a new position at the rail some respectful distance from her.
"The view from up here is marvelous, don't you agree?" Hardly a debonair opening, but it was perhaps sufficiently inoffensive to open a conversation.
She did not at first seem to respond, thinking perhaps that I was speaking to another.
"That mountain peak on your right, with the snow cap, is sixty miles away. It certainly seems closer from up here, doesn't it? Amazing what a little perspective will do."
It was immediately clear that I had put her in a real quandary. She did not say no, but more out of courtesy and being lady-like than anything else. There was no open indication that she was welcoming me into her life by any means.
A sidelong glance and then, rather clipped and firm: "I do not make acquaintances so casually with men." That it was an attempt to deflect my attention was clear, but equally so, somehow, was that she simply did not function in this way... she was not a pick up. She meant the statement to push me away, but it revealed to me the quality of her person, and it made me all the more determined.
"Thank you for making your position quite clear. Nor do I approach women in such a casual manner. Your graciousness speaks highly of you... and I recognize this is a very exceptional situation for you. It is for me as well." There had to be time to take a breath in there somewhere, and she had turned to look at me and for some reason my breathing had stopped.
"Then why are you doing it now?" There was a note of challenge there somehow, as if I could not be who I claimed and be doing this.
I turned to look out over the sun-drenched seascape before us, and tried to sound relaxed and non-confrontational in response. No response came to mind. So much for planning and forethought. Then, without giving it a second thought, I said somewhat off handedly, "I agree that my action is quite out of character; it feels very out of character, even now. Nevertheless, I saw no other way to resolve my dilemma."
She was quick to retort. "Dilemma? And what
