Part 13

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"Pull up here," I instructed Jason when we neared Claire's spacious, two-storey home.

Behind the house, the mountain stood tall and mighty, its outline almost invisible in the moonlight.

"Wow," he breathed, peering at the house through the windshield of his car.

Smiling, I led Jason towards the impressive teakwood front door. I pressed my index finger against the doorbell, tapping my foot nervously against the doormat that said "Welcome" in loopy print. Although Jason was just a friend, I was nervous about introducing him to Claire. Her approval of him mattered a great deal to me.

"Hi, darling," Claire greeted me, holding the door wide open. Turning to Jason, she smiled, "You must be Jason."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered politely, extending his right hand towards her. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Please, call me Claire," she said, shaking his hand heartily.

"You have a beautiful home," he commented, appraising the living room's high ceiling and tasteful furnishings.

"Thank you," she said graciously. "Lee, why don't you show Jason around the house while I set the table?"

"Sure," I said, gesturing for him to follow me.

We stood side by side in front of the living room windows, staring out at the neighbourhood, the ocean glowing silver in the distance.

"Nice view," Jason observed with a smile.

"The one upstairs is even better," I promised, pulling him up the wide staircase. "I'll show you."

I led him to the sitting room on the second floor. Turning on the muted yellow lights, I gestured to the French windows that occupied an entire wall.

"Whoa," Jason whispered, stepping closer to the glass.

The ocean extended as far as the eye could see, the road that ran along its shore dotted with buildings and vehicles. In contrast to the street's bustling activity, the water was tranquil, its soft waves shimmered under the moon's glow.

"When I was little, my mom and dad would drive me down that road every Saturday," he reminisced, pointing in the distance. "We'd go to the beach at around three in the morning when it's totally empty. We would build sandcastles and go home after dawn. There's just something about the ocean so late at night. You have to see it to believe it."

He peered down at me and asked, "Will you come with me? We could go this Saturday. Drive down the road, build a sandcastle, the whole thing."

"Really?" I asked, touched and slightly taken aback by his willingness to share such a personal, intimate memory with me.

"Yeah," he smiled. "Unless you mind having to stay up so late."

"No, I'd love to!" I hastened to reply.

"I'll pick you up Saturday?" he asked, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"Yes," I confirmed, silently hoping that I wouldn't have to wait until the weekend to see him again.

We lapsed into silence as we watched the waves. The house was quiet, save for the sound of Claire setting up the dinner table downstairs.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I mused, referring the tranquility of nature and the animation of society melding together, side by side.

"Yeah," Jason turned away from the window, levelling his gaze with mine. "Beautiful."

The light from overhead glinted off his eyes, making them hard to read. The corners of his lips lifted up in a teasing smile, challenging me to ask him if it was the ocean that he had called beautiful.

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