Carelessly discarded clothes lay by the nightstand. Jayson, propped up by his elbows, reclined in the centre of the bed. Awe struck, he gazed at the wanton beauty at the end of the bed. She let the top of her surgical scrubs fall to the floor. She stood there, her sultry eyes locked onto his. He watched her slowly pull the drawstring of her pants and they fell to the floor. Clad only in her bra and panties, she crawled cat-like onto the bed. "Oh sweet God in heaven," he thought to himself. "Am I ready for...?" Anxiety grew in the back of his mind when he realized that he had been waiting for this very moment for the past three years.
The Airstream trailer rocked and squeaked as it passed over the speed bumps on the way to the back corner of the RV Park. The site was not popular with the other winter residents. It was shaded and located at the furthest point from the reception centre. However, for Jayson it had become the spot of choice and for just one reason, Annie.
It wasn't that he and Annie were close friends. Over the past three years their interaction had consisted merely of per functionary smiles and greetings exchanged when she passed by his trailer. Annie regularly jogged for relaxation and exercise. She passed by Jayson's trailer on the way to the path that led to the local park. At first, he only viewed her from his trailer kitchen window. Then last year he had ventured to say hello as she passed. In the beginning, she did not acknowledge his greetings, but as he persisted she smiled, smiled and waved, and finally smiled, waved and offered a faint "Hi". Jayson vowed that this year would be different. This year he would meet her.
Jayson enjoyed his winters in Palm Springs. Since the divorce, he had developed a nomadic existence with his trailer as his home. Jayson spent his summers in Okanagan, a small town in Central Washington and his winters in Palm Springs. He liked the dry desert-like climate of both locations. There was little rain and dampness and that suited his sometimes-achy joints. He had made his living as a copywriter for a small Seattle advertising firm. A national company had bought out the firm, primarily for the lucrative computer company accounts he serviced. Jayson took the opportunity to retire and turned his writing talent to producing that one great novel.
Jayson's wife, on the other hand was not ready for retirement. She was an executive in a large financial institution. She had worked hard to get where she was and now was enjoying the rewards that a substantial 6-figure income could bring. They had grown apart and the separation was amicable. She remained in Seattle and Jayson embraced the nomadic life.
The triangular shape of the corner site made it difficult to park the trailer, but since it was nearly twice as large as the neighboring sites it provided privacy and space to park Jayson's pick-up and his motorcycle. The site bordered onto the laneway, which accessed the neighboring park. Planted along the boundary fence were trees and shrubs to ensure seclusion. These provided isolation from Jayson's neighbors, passers by, and homes for a myriad of birds. Jayson loved birds and bird watching. Each morning, over coffee, he watched his birds.
Two days after settling in, his favorite bird returned. It was almost 8 o'clock when he saw her jogging down the back roadway heading towards the park pathway. He waved enthusiastically. She returned a small wave. Jayson rose from his lawn chair, walked towards the fence, and called through the bushes as she passed by on the path, "Good morning...good to see you again."
"Morning...same here," was all she said as the sound of her footsteps against the gravel faded into the distance. This scene repeated each morning at about the same time for a couple of weeks and then it stopped.
Jayson was devastated. He had few friends in the trailer park. Really, they were not friends, just mere acquaintances. Everyone saw him as the recluse in the corner. The writer who regularly sent manuscript packages off to San Francisco and New York and then had them returned, unopened. He was the weirdo who rode the motorcycle and went shopping on an old single speed bicycle with a carrier on the back.
Without the regular sightings of Annie, Jayson's interest in morning bird watching waned. There was nothing to watch. Then one day, late in January, Jayson was returning from one of his almost daily trips to the market. He leaned his bicycle against the side of the reception complex and entered to get his mail. As he approached the mailboxes, there she was. Her back was to him. His heart began to pound. Quickly he checked his box, nothing. As he turned away, he almost collided with her. Startled she dropped her mail.
"Oh, shit!" She muttered.
"I apologize...Oh I'm so sorry." Their heads had just bumped and Jayson's glasses fell to the floor. Simultaneously they had both reached for the fallen mail and the collision had occurred. She reached for his glasses at her feet and he scooped up her mail.
"Here are your glasses. I'm very sorry. It was my fault I wasn't paying attention..."
"No, it was my fault," interrupted Jayson. They both burst out in nervous laughter and they nearly dropped everything again. "It seems we are both having a bit of a bad day..." He stopped mid sentence when their fingers touched as they awkwardly exchanged glasses and mail. In that brief second an electric charge ran though Jayson's body and a wide smile spread across her face.
"I've run past your place and you've been kind enough to say good morning, but I've never stopped. My name is Annie Robinson," she said shyly.
Jayson grinned and replied, ""Mine is Jayson McLure. I'm really glad to meet you." He extended his hand. A warm, firm grip met his. Annie held onto his hand for a few seconds. She did not want to relinquish its grasp. There was something about his touch and his voice that put her immediately at ease. She studied him, with a practiced eye, as they walked towards the back of the trailer park.
His voice was soft and resonant. He had a compassionate face. A slight limp marred his gait but he appeared to be fit and strong. He adopted a slightly hunched stance, probably from scoliosis she thought, as he guided the bicycle with a confident steady hand. "... Do you still run in the mornings?" The question hung in the air. Annie realized she had been lost in her analysis of him and had not been paying attention. There was an uncomfortable stillness. Then he blurted out in a rapid, nervous stream, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just that I used to see you run by my trailer in the mornings and now..." Jayson's words died off. A painful stillness ensued.
Annie looked up at him. Jayson's was blushing and staring straight ahead, as they walked. She felt she owed him an explanation. "...Err, my shifts have changed," she said in a halting voice. "I now work from 4 in the afternoon to 4 in the morning. I'm a charge nurse at the Eisenhower Medical Centre."
"Oh, shift work can be hard..."
"Yeah, especially with my Dad. Looking after him is almost a full time job. He's so possessive..." Annie stopped herself mid sentence. She did not mean to make those comments. It was just that Jayson put her at ease. Self-conscious that she had revealed too much, Annie hurriedly continued. "...Nowadays, I work out in the rehab centre from the time I get off until I can go home. I don't dare wake up Dad," she said in a nervous voice that trailed off.
Jayson immediately piped up. "I like to go for walks early in the morning. I like to watch the birds. The park is quiet then." He heard himself talking. The words sounded childish. He stopped. Nevertheless, Annie didn't seem to notice. In fact, she replied in an encouraging tone.
"Maybe I'll see you some morning then." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, I'm sorry, I have to go and start to prepare dinner for my father." Annie gently brushed his arm as she turned to walk away. "Nice to talk to you."
Jayson watched her disappear into the mobile home at the end of the road. Then he turned and pushed his bicycle to his trailer, leaned it against the trailer's side, and quickly carried the day's groceries inside. However, before he did anything else he set his alarm clock for 4 AM.
The next two mornings brought invigorating walks in the park with beautiful sunrises, many bird sightings, but no sign of Annie. The third day Jayson woke before the alarm to the sound of rain beating against the aluminum of the trailer. He slowly showered and dressed. Even with his sweater and Cortex jacket, the morning felt cold and damp. He pulled his baseball cap tightly onto his head, grabbed his umbrella, and started towards the park. His binoculars, safely in their case, bumped against his chest as he walked. "You're a bloody fool," he thought to himself as entered the park and gazed through the misty rain looking for a solitary runner. As he walked along the path, the short bleat of a car horn interrupted the sounds of the rain beating against his umbrella and his footsteps on the gravel. Jayson turned in the direction of the sound. There in the adjacent parking lot was a small, grey compact car. From the driver's side window an arm waved.
Jayson walked quickly towards the car. He crouched down beside the open window and grasped the doorframe for balance and support as he awkwardly held the umbrella above the window. A warm hand brushed across his. "What are you doing out on a day like this? Bird watching I suppose." she asked in a scolding tone and pointing towards the binoculars.
The words caught Jayson totally off guard. He bit his lip then replied, "Looking for you."
"That's nice, that's really nice...but now that you have found me, what do you want to do. I don't run in the rain."
"Do you want a cup of coffee? I could even make you breakfast."
Annie looked carefully at this man in his early sixties crouched by her car door. He was staring intently at her left hand that covered his as it rested on edge of the open car window. His own words seemed to have caught him by surprise. Now in the stillness between his question and her answer, she watched the tension build in his face and neck. He was as nervous as she was. She squeezed his fingers and blurted out, "...Sure. Can I leave my car here?" Annie did not wait for his reply but quickly rolled up the window and opened the door. Soon she was clutching his arm and sharing the umbrella as they walked quickly back to his trailer.
The trailer was warm, the coffee hot, and the breakfast was excellent. Annie enjoyed Jayson's quiet efficiency. He was polite, attentive, and a good listener. She felt comfortable in his presence. He was everything her former boyfriends and especially her father were not. Over the next hour, Annie told Jayson about how she had moved to Palm Springs after her mother had died to look after her father. He was partially paralyzed by a stroke and a recovering alcoholic. At the best of times, she described him as possessively cantankerous. At the worst of times, he was down right mean. When she finished talking about her father, Annie took another sip of her coffee and glanced at her watch. It was almost 7 AM.
