When We Meet Again

*****

Dean arrived at the shoot site at eleven on the dot. It was a mad house of movement and bustle but he managed to snag a passing assistant to direct him to Samantha. She was seated on a throne like contraption in a long willowy flowery transparent something that showed all her assets to the best advantage. She smiled as she saw him approach and gracefully rose to her feet, extending her hand out to be kissed. He obliged her, capturing her hand in his and bringing it to his mouth.

He straightened up and looked at her. She was looking expectantly back at him like she was expecting the kissing to extend to her mouth. His mouth twisted in a pained expression.

“Can we go somewhere…private?” he asked in a low voice. Samantha’s assistant and stylist were loitering about in addition to other miscellaneous people. Samantha seemed to ponder it and then she gestured toward the water.

“We can walk on the beach,” she said with a smile that Dean didn’t understand.

“Yes. Lets,” he said and stuck his hands in his pockets so as not to have to hold hers. She followed the movement and inexplicably her smile widened. Dean felt like somehow wires were getting crossed even before words had been spoken.

They walked quietly along the shore for a while enjoying the view as Dean tried to find the right words.

“I know what it is you want to say Dean so just go ahead,” Samantha encouraged placing a hand on his arm and smiling. From her demeanor, Dean very much doubted that she knew what he wanted to say.

“How long have we been together?” he asked.

Samantha moved her head in an implied shrug, “I don’t know, practically since we were babies,” she said.

Dean nodded his agreement. “And you’ve never felt the need to…you know; try elsewhere?” he asked.

Samantha looked at him quizzically. “Why would I?” she asked.

Dean’s mouth moved in that pained expression again. “I don’t know. Curiosity? Dissatisfaction? Passion?” he asked.

Samantha was staring at him as if she was worried that he wasn’t saying the things she thought he should be saying, “Why are you saying these things to me? Did someone tell you I was cheating on you because I’m not,” she protested…a little too much in Dean’s opinion.

“No, nothing like that. It’s just that…my father had a stroke and I’m now in the hot seat to take over the family business and apparently get married and I’m feeling like…” Dean trailed off wondering how to put it so that it didn’t sound like he was blaming her for his unhappiness in this relationship.

“I feel like I have to take back myself. Be my own man,” he said.

“Uh huh?” she didn’t seem too interested in his Aha! moment.

“And to do that, I think I need some time alone. To find out who I really am,” he continued hoping he didn’t have to come right out and say it.

“What are you saying exactly?” she asked.

Dean took a deep breath, “It’s not you it’s me? This is for the best? You deserve better? They’re all clichés but they’re also all true,” he said.

“Are you breaking up with me!!!?” Her voice was so high only dogs would be able to hear it soon.

Dean breathed deep, “Yes,” he said on the exhale.

Samantha stared at him in shock and then she was scratching, biting and hitting him everywhere she could reach. Dean tried to protect his face but otherwise he let her have her way with him. Suddenly she stopped attacking him.

“You won’t get away with this,” she cried. Her face was red and puffy as if she was the one who’d been beaten. She took off down the beach at a run and Dean watched her go, wondering if he should follow. Seeing as he was the cause of her upset, maybe that would not be a good idea. He turned around slowly to make his way back to his car head down. He fished out his phone wondering if it was too soon to call Meaghan. But he found that what he’d said to Samantha was true. He really did need some time to sort himself out. Find out who he was without reference to his mother or his family or his friends. Without reference to a woman most definitely.

He had reached the hotel and was packing his bags when his phone rang. Mother calling. He hesitated, wanting to let it go to voice mail but he knew if they didn’t do this now, they’d still do it later so he clicked the answer button and waited.

“Dean, what have you done?” his mother demanded coldly.

“Mother and how are you today?” Dean replied against his better judgment.

There was a cold front approaching from the other end of the line.

“Dean whatever you are thinking by breaking off your engagement to-“ his mother began.

“We weren’t engaged,” Dean corrected and interrupted his mother. He had to sit down his knees were weak.

“Excuse me?” he could hear the shock in her voice. Nobody contradicted Poppy Wesson.

“We weren’t engaged mother. I hadn’t asked her to marry me and I’m not going to,” Dean said gathering all the courage he had in his hands. “I’m headed to New York now. Can we postpone the third degree till then?” he inquired keeping his voice steady.

His mother hung up on him.

*****

“Should I call him? I think I should call him,” Meaghan said at the end of the week. She’d been on her toes every day waiting for Dean to get in touch but he didn’t. Bain had been keeping her sane with a running commentary of all the reasons why he could be MIA.

“And say what? Hi Dean, why haven’t you called me? I’ve been sitting here waiting and waiting and waiting for you to call and you haven’t,” Bain adopted a particularly whiny voice for this performance. It made Meaghan’s ears hurt.

“You’re right. Let’s think about something else. Like my residency at Johns Hopkins. You think they’ll take me?” she asked as she redid his nails. Bain liked to have her paint his nails when they were together. He said it was soothing. He wasn’t crazy enough to show up for work with nail polish on his fingernails but over the weekend he liked to show off his pretty fingers that way.

“I absolutely think they’ll take you,” he said.

“You’re my best friend you’re supposed to say that,” she said.

“And my dad also happens to know two people on the board. I happened to ask him to, you know, just find out which way they were leaning and you’re definitely in their ‘pro’ column,” he told her. She sat up so sharply a streak of black nail polish ran up his finger.

“Hey careful,” he protested.

“Oh sorry!” she said reaching for the nail polish remover. “Are you sure about that Bain?” she asked breathlessly.

Bain shrugged, “You have competition I won’t lie, but your chances are pretty good,” he said.

Meaghan surged forward to hug him, “I love you so much Bain,” she said squeezing him tight.

“I love you too Mayflower,” he replied. It was his pet name for her simply because her birthday was in May.