Under The Boardwalk. Carla Cassidy

and yet there was the glory of freedom in her eyes, a self-awareness that he found fascinating. She was like an entity from another planet and he wanted to possess her, contain her spirit and learn from it.

      He felt the same way now, as he waited for her answer.

      She tossed her hair away from her face and looked at him, her eyes glittering with challenge. “Okay, Grey, I’ll show you the magic,” she finally answered.

      Unconsciously, he took a step toward her, overcome with the need to take her in his arms, feel her body pressed tightly against his.

      Her eyes flared slightly as if she read his intent and she took a step back from him. “I’ve got to get to the theater,” she said as she looked at her watch. With a stiff nod, she turned and fled.

      He watched her go, wishing he could call back yesterday, wondering exactly what had gone wrong between them, knowing that it wasn’t over yet. He knew in that instant that he couldn’t go ahead with his future until he resolved this issue from his past. He needed one more night of holding her in his arms. He needed just one more night with her. Then, just maybe, he could finally let her go.

      Three

      “I can’t believe I actually agreed,” Nikki said the next morning as she poured Bridget a cup of coffee. “Show me the magic, he says, and I say okay. I should have my head examined.”

      Bridget reached out and patted Nikki’s arm in consolation. “But if you can show it to him, maybe he’ll save the boardwalk.”

      “I don’t even know if it’s possible. Either you see magic or you don’t. It has to exist in your soul before you can see it in the world around you—” She broke off in frustration.

      She got up from the table and walked over to the window and peered out into the early morning sunshine. “When a magician pulls a card out of thin air, some people see a man good at sleight of hand, hear a telltale rustle of clothing, notice a furtive grab up a sleeve. Others see only the magic. Grey used to see it, but he’s had seven years to perfect the Blakemore skepticism and disbelief. How can I make him see the magic? What can I possibly do to change his mind about the boardwalk? This whole idea is completely ridiculous.” Nikki sat down at the table and looked at her friend.

      Bridget calmly stirred three spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee, a smile wrinkling her perky nose. “I can’t think of anyone more suited to remind Grey of what this boardwalk once was, what it could be again. There is magic here, the magic of wounded people coming together in tolerance, living together in peace, working together and sharing their dreams.”

      She reached across the table and grabbed Nikki’s hand in hers. “This boardwalk has given to you all these years. When you were sixteen and your mother died, these people rallied around to make certain you didn’t end up in social services. We’re a family here, and this family is depending on you, Nikki. You must do whatever it takes to make Grey see the magic. You have to do whatever must be done to see that he doesn’t close us down…even if it means forgiving him.”

      “Never,” Nikki replied flatly, removing her hand from Bridget’s grasp. “I’ll be civil to him, I’ll do anything else it takes, but I can never, ever forgive him.”

      Bridget paused a moment to take a sip of her coffee, her bright eyes studying Nikki over the top of her cup. “You’ll never really be whole again until you get rid of your bitterness,” she observed. “Your anger will keep you forever bound to Grey. You need to talk to him, vent it, forgive him. That’s the only way you can get on with the rest of your life.”