I walk out onto the deck around the pool, coffee cup in hand, staring absently out over our land. I'm feeling restless and twitchy. Sean is in the shower, and I could go join him, but I want something else today. He hasn't said much about the planning that he . . . or Boromir, has done with Faramir and Théodred, and I haven't asked. He understands my reasons for staying out of this fight and why I won't let Éomer in it either. I'm sure Dave and Paris think I'm a coward, but that's nothing I can change.
The wind ruffles my hair, the breeze giving me an idea. I dodge back inside, tapping the keys on the laptop sitting on the bench. I grin, liking my idea better and better. This will be perfect to shake off my mood.
I slide into some beat up cargo shorts and then pull the boards out of the shed and carry them around to the deck. I pour myself another cup of coffee and then get busy with the wax. I've got my Mal between my knees, sighting along the edge, and letting the sun catch the wax to make sure it's done properly, when Sean comes out. He's wearing low-slung jeans and his feet are as bare as mine. I eye his toes, hoping that Sean'll agree to my plan, cause I'll get to perv on his toes all day if he does.
At his inquiry, I answer, "I checked the beach report. The surf's high at White Rock on Wairarapa."( Come to the beach with me? )