Searching For Steve

Chapter One – The Mail

Pounding along the sand Steve Sloan covered the beach in his long, easy strides as the early morning sun began to warm the trillions of grains of sand under his feet. He loved the feel of the sun on his face and the breeze in his hair. Living by the ocean was an integral part of his life and he couldn't imagine not being able to do wake up every morning to the sight, sounds and smell of the ocean. Raising his wrist he looked at his watch, reluctantly turned and began to make his way back to the beach house.

Mark had awoken much to his disgust, at his usual time even though it was his day off. After trying and failing to get back to sleep he decided that he may as well get up and have some breakfast. Wandering out of his bedroom, pulling his robe around him Mark noticed that there were a few envelopes lying on the wooden floor by the front door. Treading lightly down the couple of steps that led to it Mark retrieved the mail and continued on into the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later Steve entered the kitchen his hair still wet from his shower to find Mark sitting on one of the bar stools happily devouring a piece of toast.

"Good morning Dad," he said, "I didn't expect to see you up. Isn't today your day off?"

"It certainly is," Mark agreed, "I just wish I could turn my internal clock off as easily as I can my alarm."

Pouring himself a coffee Steve sat back down next to his father and deftly reached across to steal a piece of toast from Marks' plate.

"Hey!" Mark protested.

Steve grinned and bit into the toast.

"By the way," Mark said a little later, "there is some mail for you."

Reaching out to take the thick, white envelope from his father Steve put down his toast and, sliding his finger under the flap, opened it up. Looking inside he saw another, smaller envelope and a folded sheet of paper. He pulled them both out and unfolded what turned out to be a letter.  The sheet was a good quality and had an address embossed at the top in the centre, the address of a well known and reputable firm of lawyers.

'Dear Mr. Sloan,' the letter began,

'We have been instructed, as executors of the late Mrs. A. Devanys (formerly Miss A Tyler) will, to pass this letter on to you.

We have no knowledge of the contents, however if you have any questions that we may be able to answer, please contact us at the above address.'

"Is everything okay son?" Mark asked, noting the look on Steve's face, a mixture of confusion and sadness.

Holding out the letter towards his father Steve turned his attention to the second envelope. It was an old one and the handwriting on the front was slightly faded. Although it had been well over twenty years Steve immediately recognised Amy's writing. They had been dating around the time that Steve's mom had died. It had been Amy who had kept him from going insane in those early days and Steve had been devastated when she had left without a word. He hadn't been able to face going to see her parents as he was in the midst of grieving for his mother and so he never really found out where she went and why. Steve turned the envelope over in his hands hoping that the contents might solve that particular mystery. The fact that he was holding the envelope because Amy was dead was something that he would put away to be dealt with later.

"Amy Tyler?" Mark queried, "Why do I remember that name?"

"We were dating when Mom died," Steve replied.

A look of enlightenment crossed Marks' face, "I remember her. Didn't she leave rather suddenly?"

"Mmmmmm." Steve's reply was distracted, "Maybe this letter will tell me why."

"You'll never find out unless you read it," Mark encouraged.

Opening the envelope Steve pulled out a number of pale pink sheets of paper and, despite himself, he smiled. How he remembered that paper, Amy had a thing for the colour pink and almost everything she owned was pink.  Without thinking Steve lifted the paper to his nose and inhaled, half expecting to smell the aroma of the perfume he had bought for her last birthday before she left. It was an obscure, short lived, fragrance and he only bought it because of its name, Pink Lady. Amy had loved it and wore it all the time, even sprinkling a few drops of it onto every letter that she wrote to Steve.

Taking a deep breath Steve unfolded the pages and began to read.