Jack and Florence placed their coffees in the cup holders of the jeep and drove through Saint Marie. It was deserted, everyone in bed, either asleep or awake looking at the ceiling just as Jack and Florence would be. Jack admired the way the light from the streetlamps reflected on the water as Florence drove them along the road by the water's edge. Then, she forked off along a road that led up to the cliffs.
"Where are you taking me, Florence Cassell?" Jack teased, cocking his eyebrow at her.
"I want to show you somewhere," she replied, as they began driving up an incline that inched higher and higher the further they went. Eventually, the jeep rounded a corner and Florence edged onto a small dirt path. As the trees parted, Jack could see the sky and sea below. The view was indescribable. Florence put on the hand brake and jumped out, taking her coffee with her. Jack followed, noticing that thankfully there were rocks barricading the edge of the cliff.
"Wow," he said, admiring the landscape. Jack looked out, marvelling at the way the ocean glittered in the moonlight. The gentle roll of the waves cooed to them in the night air. "This is amazing," Jack said, turning to Florence, who had hopped up onto the top of the jeep's hood.
"It's called Look Out Point," Florence told him, her eyes on the view. Then, she looked down at him, biting her lip. "Come and sit with me," she said, patting the space next to her.
Jack walked forward and handed Florence his coffee, climbing up on the bumper and sitting down next to her.
"Thanks," he said, taking his cup from her and sipping it. "This is great coffee."
"Mmm," Florence agreed, taking a sip of her own. "So, why can't you sleep at night?"
Jack thought for a moment, angling his body more toward her. "I don't feel like I've slept properly in about twenty years," he laughed bitterly. "At first, when we had Siobhan, I was up doing the night feeds a lot because Kathleen did shift work. She was a nurse. God, she worked so hard. Sometimes she didn't even hear Siobhan crying she was so out of it. So, I got up and slept at my desk a lot during the day to make up for it. Things got better when Siobhan was older but then Kathleen got ill. We knew it was terminal and Kathleen wanted to die at home with me and Siobhan with her, not in some hospice alone. So, I cared for her. I took compassionate leave from work and cared for her till she died. I didn't sleep a wink the whole time, I'm sure of it. I wanted to be there for her, for the moment she passed. I didn't want her to be alone," said Jack. "But the irony of it is, now I'm alone, and I don't know how to be alone, you know."
Florence nodded, taking her hand in his and giving it a squeeze. "That must be so hard, Jack."
Jack sighed and looked down. "I've had so much to overcome the last few years and now with Siobhan going away…" he trailed off, looking out to see. "It's like I've forgotten what it's like to not work all the time. I've forgotten what it's like to have fun… to be me… or something like that," he scoffed.
Florence squeezed his hand again. "You need to become you again."
"Yeah," Jack nodded breathily, taking another sip of his coffee, then putting it next to him on the hood. "You're right. This is nice, this… caramel latte or whatever it's called."
Florence laughed. "I know you," she said again. "You forget that."
Jack locked eyes with her. Florence was right. She did know him. She knew him better than anyone else in the world, save for perhaps his daughter. He didn't deserve her, Jack thought. She was too good to him.
"How do you know me?" he asked softly.
"Well…" she began, putting her cup down on the hood next to her. "I know that you're always talking to yourself, so when you're not, I know that it means that something is really on your mind. I know you like to chew on things when you think, so when you don't have the end of a pen in your mouth or a sweet, I know it means you don't really want to think at all. I know the way you like me to drop you off home so we can share a beer on the veranda, so when you say you're going to walk home, I know it really means that –,"
"That I can't bear it when you leave," Jack finished with a gulp.
Florence digested his words. "Okay, I'll admit, I didn't know that last bit."
"Sorry, what were you going to say?"
"When you say you're going to walk home, I know it really means that you're staying behind to torture yourself in the dark about all the things you wish could be different," said Florence.
"I mean, that too," laughed Jack. "But mainly the first thing," he said, gazing into her eyes. "I hate it when you leave."
Florence's lips parted as she leaned into Jack, pressing them delicately to his. He gently pursed his lips, lingering for a moment, inhaling her scent, moving his hands up to cup her face. Florence inched closer to him, her palms holding his hips, lest he disappear into the night like a shadow or a dream. Slowly, they leaned back on the hood of the jeep, their coffee cups discarded, bodies pressed close together, breathes quickening with every beat of their hearts.
In the distance, a rumble in the clouds broke their kiss. They turned to the horizon, watching flashing lights dance across the sky. Before they could say a word, the heavens opened, and rain began to cascade down on them. Jack looked up to the clouds and laughed, turning back to Florence, and catching her in another passionate kiss.