The next few days were tense and sorrowful for Reed. She got almost no writing done, and as far as she could see, Duncan wasn't getting much done, either. He would sit, staring off into space, until he'd suddenly look around, as if realizing he wasn't doing anything.

They were cordial and distant to each other, like polite roommates, which was what they were at this point, Reed decided.

Happy platonic August to everyone.

Once, Duncan accidentally brushed against her when they were in the kitchen. "Oh, excuse me," he said, his voice formal.

"That's okay, I know it wasn't your fault," Reed responded with a measured smile.

Duncan smiled back. "Thank you."

Reed left the kitchen as quickly as she could, escaping to her bedroom. She leaned her forehead against the sliding glass door that led to the deck, eyes closed.

Was the rest of her time here going to be like this?

She regrouped and headed for the office, where she'd spend the next few hours staring at her laptop screen, or surreptitiously staring at Duncan on the sofa.

He was already there, notes spread out on the table, guitar in hand. "You know about the party? This Saturday?" he asked.

Reed nodded. "I remember. You want me to stay in my room? Or I could go out or something?"

Duncan stared at her. "What? Of course not. I just wanted to remind you so you wouldn't be surprised when people started showing up and cooking and setting up a bar and all that in the morning."

"Like caterers? I thought this was going to be a small party?" Reed couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice.

"Oh, it will be, but I still like to have someone else handle all that stuff," Duncan explained. "Don't want to be bothered, if I'm honest. I think there will only be about fifty people."

"That sounds like a lot of people to me," Reed responded.

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Um, Duncan?"

"Yeah?"

"What should I wear? I mean, do people usually get dressed up?"

He smiled at her. "No, please wear what you want, be comfortable. How about that yellow top with the wildflowers on it? You look lovely in that one."

Now it was Reed's turn to smile. "Thank you. Okay, the yellow it is."

"Don't expect too much, yeah?" Duncan looked at her earnestly.

"What do you mean?"

"From the party. Most of them aren't my actual friends, like people I'd want to spend time with. These are mainly people I have professional dealings with, or acquaintances from work, the studio, the label, you know."

"Where are your 'actual friends,' then?" Reed asked curiously.

Duncan shrugged. "They're all over, I guess. Many are in England, or Europe, I have a couple of good friends who're on tour right now—" he paused and swallowed. "I'd tell you I'd introduce you to them sometime, but there's not much point, seeing as how you're leaving in a few weeks."

Reed sighed. "I understand."

Silence.

"Reed?"

"Yes?"

"What if I said I'd go with you? Back to Orlando? Would that make a difference?"
Oh my god.

Reed looked at Duncan, heaving for breaths. Slowly, she shook her head. "Please, please, can we just not talk about this anymore?" she begged. Tears spilled over and coursed down her cheeks. "I already feel so awful."

Duncan set his guitar aside and came to stand next to her. "Please tell me why? What's got you tethered to your old life? Is there—someone? A boyfriend?" His voice got soft on the last word.

"No." Technically, this wasn't a lie, since Sam was her fiancé. Reed couldn't stop crying now, thinking about what a fucked up mess she'd made of everything. She put her face in her hands and wept, knowing it was the weak way out, but unable to help herself.

Immediately she felt Duncan's arms come around her, just as she'd known they would.

"Oh no, please, please don't cry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He spoke into her hair as she put her arms around his middle and pressed her face into his tummy. She could feel the smooth muscles of his torso against her face. "I knew you didn't want to talk about it, I shouldn't have brought it up again, sh, shh."

And Reed, knowing it was her fault, not his, let him take the blame while she felt as though she might be drowning in the guilt. She just held onto him as a drowning person might grab at something floating nearby, weeping into his front as he stood next to her chair.

Eventually, her tears gave way to occasional hiccuping breaths, and she was spent. And even though nothing had been discussed, somehow the air was little clearer, not the miasma of misery it had been before. Reed even felt lighter, and wondered if Duncan felt the same.

"How many times have I bawled into your shirts?" she joked as she finally let go of him. "Look at what a mess I've made, I'm sorry."

Duncan looked down and laughed, stroking her hair away from her forehead. "It's okay, honest." He tipped her face up. "I won't bring it up again, I promise."

Reed blinked and nodded. "Thank you. Thank you for understanding."

"What do you say we get out of this office? I don't know about you, I haven't accomplished fuck all today. Let's hit the beach, yeah?"

Reed nodded, and they went down to the water's edge, getting their feet wet. Reed, as usual, began looking at the sand immediately, searching for shells.

"You know, it's amazing you find what you do," Duncan noted. "This beach is so popular, it's been scoured clean by hordes of beachcombers."

"I guess I just know what I'm looking for," Reed answered quietly.

Just then Duncan bent down and picked something up. "Well, fuck me," he said in wonder. "Look what I've just found." He held his handout to Reed. In his palm was a beautiful, delicate pink shell, perfect in its simplicity and tiny in size.

"Wow, I guess you know what to look for, too," Reed said. "That's beautiful."

Duncan tried to give it to her. "You take it, you love these kinds of things."

"No, you found it, it was meant for you," Reed insisted, closing his fingers around it, pressing them down to make a fist around the perfect shell.

"Shall I put it in your bowl, just inside the door, then?" Duncan tried. "With all your other bits and baubles?"

"Duncan Browne, it's yours, please keep it. It's like a good luck charm."

So he finally slipped it in his pocket, smiling at her in the midday sun. "Okay, fine. I will. I guess there isn't that much beauty and perfection in the world that we can just give it away when we happen across it, can we?"

They both considered his words for a moment, then Reed turned away to face the waves, expression carefully casual. "I suppose not," she said.

"You're getting burned," Duncan said, gesturing to her shoulders. "You must've forgotten to put sunscreen on."

"I didn't know I was coming outside," Reed agreed, looking down at herself.

"How many times have I told you, you have to assume you're going to be in the sun every day out here and just put it on in the morning?" Duncan chastised. "It's nothing but sun, all day, and at this time of year well into the evening, as well." He loped up to the deck to grab the bottle, and came back.

"Here, let me, you always miss spots on your back," he admonished. He rubbed the coconut smelling lotion on her shoulders and under the spaghetti straps of her shirt. "You have lovely skin, you need to take care of it, yeah?"

Reed just stood and let him apply the lotion, enjoying the feel of his hands on her flesh. It seemed like it had been forever since she felt his hands on her.

Duncan, too, seemed to be enjoying it, spending an inordinate amount of time on his task. He was even putting the lotion on her under her shirt, where she was pretty sure the sun wouldn't reach.

Finally, using all of her willpower, she stepped away from him with a murmured, "Thank you."

Duncan swallowed and nodded. "No problem," he responded. "Hey! What do you say we go and have lunch?" He turned away, still holding the bottle of lotion. "I'm famished."

Reed nodded and followed him into the house, where they made sandwiches, working efficiently together.

"Nancy's going to be at the party," Duncan mentioned as they sat with their food. "Will this be a problem? Shall I tell her not to come?"

Reed shook her head. "Oh no, please, this is your home, it's your party, invite whomever you please."

"I can at least have a word with her," Duncan continued. "Tell her to leave you alone and all that."

"That won't be necessary, honestly," Reed said, shaking her head again. "I can take care of myself."

"I know that," Duncan said, giving Reed a soft look. "You're one of the most independent and strong-minded women I've ever met."

"How can you say that when I'm living for the summer as your permanent guest, contributing nothing?" Reed was so amazed she forgot to chew.

"You were here on your own, in Los Angeles, and you were prepared to go back to that life with nothing," Duncan countered. "You weren't going to take a thing from me, even though it was my fault that you lost pretty much everything."

"It wasn't your fault. I mean, I never thought it was," Reed assured him. "You can't help it that you have crazy, rabid fans, can you?"

"They are pretty mental, aren't they?" Duncan agreed. He took a swallow of his beer.

Reed nodded. "Did you know they've set up some sort of altar thing at the side of the freeway where I hit you? There are flowers out there most of the time."

"No. Really? I guess I haven't left the house in a long time, then," Duncan responded with a grin. "What are they thinking? It's not as though I died there or anything."

"They just love you, and want a way to express it," Reed explained. "I totally get it." She heard her own words and began to color. "I mean, I don't mean—"

Duncan covered her hand with his. "It's okay, I know exactly what you mean. I do."