PART 1
REINTRODUCTION
Jason found his seat after boarding Qantas flight 12 from Los Angeles to Sydney. The connecting flight from San Francisco was late but not late enough for him to negotiate an exit row seat at the last minute. He preferred the exit row due to the extra legroom, not so much the proximity to a door that could save his life, although if circumstances on this particular trip required the use of this door, he would likely become shark bait. He had a lot to think about on this 15 hour flight. Really, the circumstances that led up to this flight should have never happened. Statistically, they were astronomical. It all started....
CHAPTER 1
This particular Friday night, like he did almost every night, Jason walked down to the end of Pier 39. The quiet spot at the end of the pier was his refuge from the rest of the world. Each evening, rain or shine, he would walk down Beach Street from his high-rise condo to the pier, watching the people, sometimes having dinner alone at one of the casual spots on the pier, sometimes wearing a suit and eating at one of the more formal places. More often he would just grab a crab salad sandwich from one of the crab stands and sit and listen to one of the street performers under the famous Fisherman's Wharf sign. Which is what he was doing this particular evening.
The air was cool and moist, with the faint fishy ocean-smell coming in off of the water. He loved this smell. The balcony on his condo aimed toward the bay, with a perfect view of the Golden Gate Bridge, and he loved that smell so much his sliding door was kept wide open all night. Sometimes, he swore that the late evening fog came straight into his living room.
Jason ate his sandwich and listened to the homeless musician playing this evening under the Fisherman's Wharf sign. He noted, with pleasure, that the man was using the new amplifier that he had donated to the group of homeless musicians that shared this corner. After listening to a few songs, he dropped a ten into the saxophone case and walked down to The Embarcadero, passing the Musée Mécanique and the USS Pampanito.
He got to the pier and walked toward the end, toward his favorite spot in the world. In 1996, when he was in college, he decided he would take his first vacation by himself over the next summer. Before the days of booking plane tickets on a website, he visited a travel agent who found a $200 plane ticket to San Francisco, a city he had always wanted to visit. He would stay with friends in Oakland and Mill Valley and explore a place he had always wanted to visit. It was on that trip that he found that spot at the end of the pier, where he sat for a total of four hours, past midnight, contemplating his life.
As he walked down the pier, he smelled something – the smell of melting chocolate. He looked to his left and saw a crepe stand. He had seen it, of course, many times before, but he never stopped in, preferring the ice cream stand down the way. He kept walking but couldn't ignore the smell. He looked through the window and saw a crepe on the iron, being spread with slowly melting chocolate and topped with sliced banana. The temptation was too great and soon he found himself at the register ordering one.....
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Anna returned to her hotel room, exhausted from a week-long International Law conference. Not having visited the United States in over ten years, and never having been to California before, she had decided to stay an extra week on holiday. Each night of this conference she had been expected to join her fellow attendees for drinks and dinner. Truth be told, she enjoyed the meals and the company, but after five days she just wanted to be alone and explore. Now that the conference was over, most of the attendees had left on evening flights, but a few remaining stragglers, including Anna, went out for some wine and appetizers.
She was exhausted and really wanted to just lie down and sleep, but the corner window on the 17th floor looked northeast, out towards the bay and the wharf. She hadn't been there yet and really wanted to be close to the water. She slipped off her professional clothes and put on jeans and a sweatshirt and comfortable shoes.
She took the elevator down to the lobby and walked out, past the cab stand, and along Van Ness Avenue down to Beach Street. Seventeen blocks, she counted, before turning east, passing Ghirardelli Square on her right, making a mental note to check it out later. She loved good chocolate. She had no idea where she was going and trusted her instincts. She smelled the salt air as the sun set and she walked past the crab stands. A jazz musician was playing the sax under the Fisherman's Wharf sign. The vibe here was incredible. For some reason, she felt revitalized. Relaxed. The evening was turning chilly, fast, but it felt good on her skin.
She just kept walking, past the ferry terminal, pausing to look at a sign advertising the various cruises. Maybe tomorrow, she wondered. She actually had no firm plans for the next seven days; she preferred to play things by ear on her vacations.
She followed the sidewalk to the left, not immediately realizing that she was walking on to the big shopping center and tourist trap that was Pier 39. As she passed some fishing boats on her left, she started to hear some strange barking noises. Curious, she kept walking and saw some large animals playing and fighting in the water. She realized they were the sea lions that her seatmate on the plane was telling her about. He had been slightly irritating as she had sat next to him for many hours over the Pacific, but she had trouble sleeping on the plane and at least he wasn't hitting on her. Very much, anyway.
Anna watched the sea lions for ten minutes, and then she walked onto the inner area of the pier between two buildings. She passed a fried seafood restaurant, a T-shirt store, a gaudy souvenir magnet shop, and then she saw the crepe shop. She looked into the window and saw they were spreading Nutella onto a hot crepe. She loved crepes, and she loved Nutella. And she had to have one.
CHAPTER 2
She carried her crepe and coffee to the outdoor seating area. There were no tables available so she walked to a bench along the wall. She was about to sit down when a man at a small round table with a half eaten crepe looked over.
"Ma'am, would you like to sit here? I can move."
Normally, she would have declined, but something drew her to the table. She surprised herself by smiling and walking over. The man stood up and picked up his plate. She surprised herself again. "No, please join me," she said, in a strong Australian accent.
Jason's heart melted. He loved foreign accents. He pulled out the metal chair and she sat down. He sat again, took a sip from a water bottle, and asked "Australia?"
"Yes," she answered before tasting her crepe. "This is lovely!"
He nodded in agreement. "What brings you here?"
"Conference. International law. Boring stuff, really." More accent. More of Jason's heart melting. "What brings you here?"
"I live here."
"It's really a lovely city," she said after swallowing another bite and sipping her coffee. "I was in my conference all week, and tonight was my first night out by myself."
"I come here every night. Well, not for crepes, this was actually my first time... and not my last, I can tell you that. It's just a great place. So, where in Australia?"
"Sydney. I work at a university."
"I had a friend once in Brisbane. She was sort of a pen pal. She was an exchange student for a year at my high school. I had the biggest crush on her. First girl I ever truly loved. Never told her though. Never got the nerve to ask her out." He changed the subject. "Care to walk with me a bit?"
She surprised herself again and stood up. "Sure. I'd love to." She was somehow intrigued with this man. Not the best looking guy, but not bad, and really nice. They disposed of their paper plates, she refilled her coffee, and they walked to the end of the pier.
"I love this spot. I can sit here for hours and just think," Jason explained, staring out to nowhere in particular. The lighthouse on Alcatraz flashed, and the fog was coming in fast. They stared silently at the water, at the Golden Gate and Bay Bridges, and the flashing red and green lights out on the buoys. A foghorn began blowing in the distance. Anna realized the magic of this spot. In her peripheral senses, she could sense the hustle of tourists behind her on the pier, yet the fact that they were there didn't disrupt the peacefulness of this spot. The romance of this spot.
She surprised herself again. She hadn't experienced romance in quite a while, preferring to concentrate on her professional career. She never, ever experienced it with a stranger. She looked again at her companion. He stared silently at the water. She could see pain in his eyes. Here they were, in perhaps the most romantic spot in the city. Two strangers. She was vulnerable, which was normally an uncomfortable position for her. Yet, the man next to her was just staring into nowhere. And, for some strange reason, she wanted to get closer to him. She didn't know why. And then she did know. It was a fleeting thought. She almost didn't grab on to it, but she caught the thought by its tail and pulled it in. It was a long shot. "You didn't always live here, did you?"
He kept staring. "No. I grew up in North Dakota." That couldn't have been a coincidence. She got closer to him. Their arms touched. As sad as he was, the romance of the situation could not be denied. She shivered, more from excitement than from the chill in the air. The sad man next to her, the man who had offered his table and pulled out her chair, instinctively removed his light jacket and wrapped it around her. He left his arm around her and pulled her close. The sadness in his eyes faded. She whispered. "Look at me." Her accent melted any sadness that remained in his eyes. She was either about to blow his mind or look like a complete fool. She moved in close and kissed him, quickly and tenderly. "Were you really in love with me, Jason?"
The question initially stumped him. "What?"
"Your name is Jason, right?"
"Yes... How did you know..." The look of recognition arrived slowly, flooded with confusion. "Anna?"
"It's me, Jason," she whispered as she hugged him. It was the most unique hug either had ever shared with another. It was a long lost bear hug, and then, it turned tender. They pulled apart slightly, neither knowing what to say. So they kissed again. Both were silently calculating the odds of this occurring.
He asked the question again. "How did you know it was me?" he asked, unable to break the gaze they shared.
"You mentioned the fact that you had a friend in Brisbane. I grew up there. Then you said she was an exchange student. I was, in North Dakota. You told me you grew up there."
"And you kissed me, why?" he stammered. "I mean, uh, I didn't mind at all... but you never seemed, uh, interested in me before. We were just friends."
"I think that was just the situation we were in here. This place is quite romantic."
"It is." He looked sad again. She looked at him, concerned she had done something wrong. "What's wrong, Jay?"
"The last time I kissed someone here, I was married to her."
Silence. He continued. "My wife was killed four years ago in an accident. A week before that, we came here on vacation."
Anna's heart broke. "I'm sorry."
"She was pregnant."
There was nothing she could say. She pulled away. "I'm sorry... if I had known that this place meant so much to you..."
