Chapter One

Melissa was startled back to reality as a flock of seabirds suddenly took flight. She hadn't even noticed when her daughters left her side. They appeared to be on a course toward a young man walking a dog; that is, a man probably younger than she, and she did not yet think of herself as middle-aged.

Not terribly surprised, Melissa reflected with a smile that all her kids had become animal lovers like herself. The girls especially had been known to cast aside all reservation upon encountering a stranger accompanied by an animal of any sort.

Her amusement turned to dismay as a second glance revealed something extra in the picture. A harness…with a long handle…like those used by guide dogs for the blind. Melissa cringed as the realization took hold that her daughters were about to interrupt a guide dog at work.

She toyed with the idea of simply walking on, of letting the girls make fools of themselves without her help. They certainly should have known better.

But something, a sense of duty perhaps, compelled her to try to catch up with her daughters. "Girls, wait," she called out breathlessly, but the breeze blew her words away. "I'm sorry," she tried again as she drew nearer. "They should have--"

"That's all right," the man answered with a smile that set her at ease. "They asked first."

Melissa looked down at the golden retriever the girls were fussing over. "Beautiful dog."

"Thank you. And Shanna loves people, don't you, Shanna?" He stroked her head, and she panted and wagged harder in response to her master.

"Girl dog?"

"Yes. And I'm Kraig." He offered his hand, and Melissa was struck by the strength and warmth of his handshake.

"I'm Melissa. My daughters--" she nudged them, "Jessica, Emily."

"We’ve met," he said simply. Fortunately, he did not offer his hand again, as they weren't paying attention to him.

An awkward silence followed. "Are you on vacation?" Melissa asked.

"Yes." He nodded toward someplace behind him. "I'll be here a week. You?"

"Two weeks. We're renting a cottage. Do you live around here?"

"I'm from Portland--"

"Oh, we flew into there last night," Emily interrupted.

He laughed a little. "Portland, Oregon."

"Really! We're from California!" Melissa exclaimed.

"Is that right! I once lived in southern California."

"Well, we're from rural, northern California."

"Ah, there is a difference. What town? Past Sacramento, I know nothing."

"Oak Hill."

"Sorry," he shook his head.

"Most people haven't heard of it. It's in the foothills. Far from the beach. Although I grew up in the Bay Area, and used to go to the beach all the time."

"Mm," Kraig nodded.

"Well, you were probably on your way somewhere...."

"No hurry," he said, taking a deep breath, and Melissa found herself doing the same, and feeling relaxed.

"Well. What kind of work do you do in Portland, Oregon?"

"I’m a writer. I write for a small, conservative newspaper."

"Thank God for conservative newspapers!" Melissa blurted out.

"Are--you Christians?" Kraig asked, his face lighting up.

"Yes," all three answered.

"How wonderful to meet you, so far from home." He held out his hand again, and Melissa put hers in it again. This time, it seemed he released her hand rather more slowly.

She took a closer look at this friendly stranger whom serendipity had brought across their path. He was perhaps forty years old; and, judging from the angle at which even she had to tilt her head to look into his face, tall—probably taller than Matt, who was over six-foot-two at last measurement. He was clean-shaven, although perhaps overdue for a haircut; his madras plaid shirt didn't appear to have been ironed since it came out of the suitcase, yet he wore pleated khaki pants and deck shoes to walk on the beach.

Melissa suddenly realized that no one had spoken in several seconds, and her silence probably sounded like staring. "So! You'll be here through next weekend?"

"I fly home Saturday," he said with an ambiguous sigh. Relief? Regret?

"Well. Maybe we'll run into you again."

"I hope so." And the way he emphasized so made her believe he meant it.

Melissa signaled "wrap it up" to Jessica and Emily. They poured their goodbyes all over Shanna, and again and again, and after several rounds of that, Melissa nudged them and jerked her head in Kraig's direction.

"Bye--Kraig," they both said.

"Melissa, Jessica, Emily." Kraig bent to pick up the harness handle.

They continued on their way, he on his.

"I'm surprised you remembered his name," Melissa scolded as soon as they were out of hearing range.

"Why? He was cute," Emily said.

"Cute?" Melissa laughed. "I never even saw you look at him."

"Didn’t you think he was cute, Jess?"

"Oh, well, yeah, but..." she turned away to hide a smile. "You know, like Mom says, that’s not what’s important."

"Well, he was nice, too, wasn’t he, Mom?"

"Very nice. And a Christian."

"And from Oregon!" Jessica said. "And he liked you. I could tell."

Chapter Two

The door leading out to the beach was open, and through the screen drifted the muffled crashing of waves. She could just see the ocean, too, from where she stood. How lovely her daughters looked with the ocean as a backdrop—Jessica, with a new storm-blue headband in her hair, the color of strawberry applesauce, and Emily, hers the color of warm honey, now shimmering in the sunshine. Melissa was wondering if perhaps she should try to get Matt interested in a walk on the beach when suddenly Emily jumped from her seat.

"There he is!" She bolted for the door. Jessica tossed her book aside and followed, trying not to run.

There who is? Melissa was about to ask, but before she could formulate the question, the answer came to her. Kraig. Of course.

Melissa snatched the towel to dry her hands, called to Matt that they were going for a walk, and slipped out, closing the screen door with a screech. In the fraction of a minute it took her to reach the beach stairs, she had time to start worrying. What if he isn't really glad to be stopped again? What if he was just being polite yesterday? What if....

From the top of the stairs, she could see Kraig motion toward each girl in turn, and each of them nod in response. While she couldn't hear their exchange, it appeared he was recalling their names correctly. She had an apology all prepared, just in case, but just then Emily turned to her.

"Mom! Look!" Emily bent and hugged Shanna, who probably would have loved to jump all over her new friends, only her thorough training preventing it.

And then, Kraig turned toward Melissa with a smile that nearly outsparkled the sun, reassuring her that he really, truly was glad to have been stopped again.

"Good morning, Kraig."

"Melissa." He held out his hand to her, and he didn't so much shake it as just squeeze it warmly, letting her fingers slip softly out of his grasp.

Jessica gave her a see-I-told-you-so look, and Melissa hoped she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. As she mused on the fact that she had now shaken this man's hand for the third time in barely twenty-four hours, it occurred to her that it was probably his favored means of connecting with a world full of people who were, to him, otherwise invisible.

"Were you just starting out, or just getting back?" he asked.

"Just starting out," the three of them said almost in unison.

"Shall we, then?"

"Which way were you going, before we so rudely interrupted you?" Melissa asked.

Kraig laughed. "Not rudely at all. We are most delighted to have company. South."

As he reached for Shanna's harness handle, Melissa saw that he was not only tall, but big--he moved with such grace, the observation came as a surprise. He wore khaki pants again--though not the same pair--with a striped polo shirt. He signaled Shanna forward, Melissa fell into step beside him, and the girls jockeyed for position on Shanna's other side. She soon saw that, as a team, Kraig and Shanna kept up a good pace, and that she'd be getting a workout.

"So," Melissa began, "you're here on vacation; you told me that yesterday. Have you been to Maine before?"

He smiled. "I try to come back every now and then."

Chapter Three

He laughed softly, perhaps sensing her perplexity, and his laugh put her at ease again. He held out his hand, not as for a handshake, but palm-up. She placed her hand on his. "Melissa, you just keep being yourself. And expect nothing less than total honesty from me." He pressed her hand between his two, and the warmth that spread through her almost brought tears to her eyes. She had an urge to leave quickly, before her confused emotions got the better of her, but he was still holding her hand tightly, and she did not really want him to let go. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said at last, opening his hands.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there, her hand still on his, free to go. "Yeah. Yes. See you tomorrow. Goodbye, Kraig."

Melissa broke into a run as she reached the sand, certain that her daughters would be wondering what had happened to her. Kraig's words tumbled around in her mind as she tried to make sense of them. What exactly was he trying to say?

She fingered the piece of beach glass she'd stuck in her pocket. The memory of his hands around hers sent warm shivers all over her.

In a flash of understanding, everything made sense. It's the touching. It's because he's blind. Along with the knowledge of mutual romantic availability came a certain responsibility, and he did not want this so-far innocent touching to become a license for inappropriate behavior. That's all. At the foot of the cottage steps, she took a few deep breaths, raked her fingers through her hair, and paced herself to arrive at the door completely collected.

Chapter Nine

On the dining room table she found a long box--a florist's box. Jessica and Emily appeared as she began to open it.

Inside was a single purple iris.

"How did he know you like irises?" Emily asked.

Melissa thought for a moment, back to the first week at the beach. "I guess I mentioned it." She was astonished that he could have remembered her passing mention of iris being her favorite flower. The card read simply, "Thank you again. Kraig."

"See? I told you he liked you!" Jessica said again.

As life returned to its familiar routine, the time spent with Kraig in Maine began to take on that dreamlike quality that fondly remembered vacations tend to do in retrospect. Several more days went by, with no call from Kraig.

Some part of her hoped he wouldn't call. There was something enticingly easy in thinking of that episode of her life simply being over. Like a painting, once finished, is framed and hung on the wall, to be gazed upon with satisfaction. Or a good book, once read, is put on the shelf, lovingly recalled but not read again.

He had called; he had kept his word. It would be okay if he didn't call again.

Chapter Eleven

Join us in progress as Melissa is about to discover...at last...why Kraig really went to Maine....

"I know. That's why he loves you. And this all makes me think--" Dave glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice, "you don't really know why Kraig was in Maine, do you?"

She started to answer, but just then Kraig reappeared. Dave gave her a knowing look and put a hand on each of them. "You two need to talk."

"But we have to go," she protested.

"We have the whole drive to the airport." He picked up her suitcase.

At the car, Kraig held the front passenger door for her.

"No way," Dave said. "Both of you in back. I'm just the chauffeur."

Melissa chose the middle position, allowing Kraig the extra legroom of the place behind the front passenger seat, and Shanna the floor space on the other side. He put his arm around her as she pressed close to his side. Just as she leaned to receive a kiss from him, Dave turned to look over his shoulder as he reversed the car out of its space. "Yeah, that's good. Just pretend I'm not here."

Melissa felt herself blush.

"When you're finished with that," Dave said, "Kraig, buddy, Melissa needs to know why you went to Maine. She won't have a complete picture of how providential this whole love story is until you tell her that."

 ...to be continued...