Author's note: At long last, I'm happy to release the final chapter! Thank you to everybody who has taken the time to read this story over the years. I'm sorry it has taken so long to complete, and hope the ending doesn't disappoint! Thank you for reading!

The next few days passed quickly for Mike. Work was incredibly busy, leaving very little time for sleep or relaxation. From burning barbeque grills to scared children stuck in trees to fiery car accidents, it felt like the station had responded to every type of call possible. A multi-car pileup and fire on the freeway caused the whole crew to stay past the end of their shift Saturday afternoon. Mike picked up takeout on the way home from work and watched TV all evening, too tired to worry about what Sunday would bring.

Mike woke up on his couch early Sunday morning. The first rays peered through his open curtains, encouraging him to rise and start the coffee. He sat up, trying to flex the soreness from his muscles. Roller skating? What was he thinking?

By the time Mike had dressed, eaten, and prepared for the day, it was barely past eight o' clock. He flopped down on the couch and listened to the radio while he flipped through the TV Guide for the next hour, then decided to head down to the beach early.

It was another sunny day, the kind of day California was known for, but Mike couldn't help but notice every detail as he walked along the beach. He squinted up at the clouds, faint and wispy, as they drew themselves across the bright blue sky. The wind was no more than a faint, whispering breeze. Flowers seemed brighter and more fragrant, and the palms up above were a brilliant green.

He may have been going roller skating, but Mike knew this was an important day.

As the hands on his watch edged their way closer and closer to the ten, Mike headed toward the parking lot and the rental shack to wait. While he waited in anticipation, he was surprised to find that he wasn't nervous. Maybe he had spent so much of the past few days-the past few weeks-feeling nervous that he just no longer had any anxiety left in him. Today was the day he was going to find closure, and the longer he focused on that, the more at ease he felt.

"Good morning, stranger."

Renee's familiar voice brought Mike's eyes to her dark hair, red top, and white shorts. Her smile reminded him so much of the Renee he used to know, that he felt the corners of his mouth turn up.

"'Morning, Renee."

Mike was surprised how natural her name felt to say.

Renee looked up at the sun, her hand over her eyes like a visor. "It's such a beautiful day; a perfect day for skating."

"Why don't we go get those skates?"

And with Mike's suggestion, they walked the short distance to the rental shack where Mike paid for two pairs of skates and a shoe locker.

"I don't mind going Dutch," Renee said, her wallet in hand.

Mike waved her money away. "Don't worry about it. It's just a couple bucks."

They sat down on a nearby bench and changed from shoes into skates. Mike was ready first and rose cautiously, finding that he was much more steady on his feet than he expected.

"I'll lock our shoes up," he said.

Once their shoes and Renee's purse were safely in the locker, he skated back to Renee. Both of her skates were tied on, but she had yet to rise to her feet.

"Look at you," she mused, smiling. "I'd believe you were a carhop over a fireman!"

A smile spread across Mike's face. "It's like riding a bike, I guess."

He noticed the apprehension on Renee's face. "Need a hand up?"

"I guess I'm just nervous," she replied. "It's been years since the last time I skated."

"You were a pro back then!" Mike reminded, recalling how she had loved to skate backwards at the local Rolladium. She had been much better at skating than him. While Mike was only capable of making slow laps around the rink, she was capable of showing off.

Mike's words seemed to encourage Renee who, with the aid of the bench's arm, rose to her feet. She moved her right foot forward before stumbling, flailing her arms for balance. Mike quickly steadied her.

"My goodness!" she exclaimed, holding Mike's arm tightly. "This is harder than I remembered!"

"You probably just need to get warmed up," Mike said encouragingly, his hand extended. "Come on; I'll keep you steady."

Renee accepted his hand and they started down the paved path that ran between the parking lot and the sand. Mike moved slowly, silently, looking past the palm trees and bright hibiscuses to the rollicking waves. When Renee had taken his hand without any coaxing, he had felt as though a jolt of electricity had zapped through him. Now, as they skated along hand-in-hand, it felt normal.

Renee was also silent as they skated down the path, dodging tan beach bums and children with ice cream. Every now and then she would squeeze his hand for fear of falling, but she never said a word. Mike wondered if this was good or bad, and what it meant in regards to his chances for a future with Renee. Was she happy? Did she enjoy being with him? Or was she simply going through the motions, humoring him, trying to make up for the years of pain she had caused?

The silence was not at all what Mike had expected. No matter how many times he had run Sunday through his head, it had always been filled with conversation. Now that the day had arrived, he realized just how far his imagination had run away with him. While there were years of things to catch up on, the time had also put distance between them. They knew each other well, yet, in a way, they were also meeting for the first time.

"This is fun." Renee suddenly broke the long stretch of silence, catching Mike off guard. She smiled in a genuine, carefree way that helped ease Mike's worries.

"It is," he replied, realizing that Renee had become much more steady on her skates. In spite of this, their hands remained intertwined. Was it a clue? He certainly hoped so.

"And gosh, maybe there's something to be said about what using a fire hose can do for your balance." She offered him a teasing smile.

"You definitely learn to hold your ground," he replied, realizing that he was not good at doing the same in his day-to-day life. He had Renee out with him- he had Renee holding his hand!- but when would he find the nerve to ask where they stood? Would he find it? Or would Renee just drift away again, leaving no trace of an answer?

They skated up and down the beach a couple of times, horsing around and laughing about work-related stories, often including random citizens they encountered.

"People are strange," Renee chortled, wiping at her wet eyes.

Yes, Mike had to admit, they were.

When they had tired of skating, they ordered submarine sandwiches from a nearby cafe and ate them on the beach. They watched seagulls pillage for scraps and surfers of varying skill attempt to conquer the mighty Pacific waves. Mike was surprised how comfortable he felt. Conversation came naturally. They both made jokes and laughed until their sides hurt. But, best of all, Mike realized that he hadn't receded into the past.

Of course they reminisced. Of course he brought up old times, as did Renee. But for the first time in months, he didn't catch himself drifting off into the confusing recesses of their past. For the first time in a long time, he was enjoying the moment and anticipating the future rather than longing for the past.

Around 2 pm they decided the day was still young, so they took Mike's car to the Santa Monica Pier and dashed inside the arcade to play Pinball, Speedway, and other favorites. They took turns at their favorite pinball table, competing for the highest score. They soon discovered just how out of practice they were, but laughed at their defeats.

When they had collectively run out of change, they walked along the pier, taking in the laughter of children, screams of seagulls, and the wonderful scent of hot dogs and fries. It feels like we're back in high school, Mike thought. Yet, it didn't. Was it because they were older, wiser? Or was it because the flicker of love Mike had hoped he was sensing was not there at all?

They learned against the railing and gazed out over the blue Pacific, watching white capped waves roll toward shore. Silence fell upon them again, and Mike worried that he would never find the right time to say what he needed to.

"I heard they might tear this place down," said Renee in the same, wistful voice with which she had spoken about Pacific Ocean Park.

Mike couldn't help but turn up one corner of his mouth for the irony. It felt like a sign that he needed to put their past to rest, that the times of fun at P.O.P. and Santa Monica Pier were meant to remain nothing but souvenirs. Yet, Mike was not completely convinced. Piers were but concrete and wood. There were other things in life that could never be completely destroyed.

"In the name of progress, huh?" Mike said sympathetically, but he didn't know if Renee had heard.

Renee rested her elbows on the rail and cradled her chin in her hands.

"It's terrible," she continued. "It's like nobody takes the time to value what they have. They just think about what's next."

Like you, Mike thought dolefully.

"Then it's a good thing we came," he offered, hoping he sounded as optimistic as he hoped.

"Yes." Renee looked to him and almost smiled. "It is."

They made the most of their time at the pier, not knowing if it may be their last. They rode the carousel multiple times. They laughed themselves silly in front of the funhouse mirrors. They browsed through the cheap souvenirs and bought keychains they would probably never use. When the faintest traces of orange joined the blue of the sky, they wandered down to the beach, in search of the perfect rock or piece of driftwood to sit on. The search continued as the sun sank deeper and deeper beyond the horizon. When no perfect seat could be found, they plopped down on the cooling sand, facing the water. It felt so much like old times that Mike could have sworn he was seventeen again.

Wordlessly, Mike and Renee watched as the sun painted the sky pink, orange, and various shades of yellow and purple. Low waves crashed against the shore as the last of the seagulls circled the beach with a mourning cry before roosting for the night.

Mike knew his chance had arrived. The tranquility he had felt all day sank with the sun, and his stomach felt as though it had lodged itself in his throat. Even so, he knew he couldn't back out now. He knew he had to speak. If things went wrong, at least he would know they had enjoyed one last day together. If Renee didn't share his feelings, at least he would know where they stood.

"Renee," he said, in a strained whisper.

"Yes?" Her eyes remained on the gleaming horizon.

Mike swallowed, hoping to dislodge the right words from his throat.

"Renee, do you-? Did you-? Ah," Mike hung his head, "I don't know where to begin."

He paused, taking a deep breath, before making a second attempt.

"You might think I'm predictable," he began, "or maybe you'll think I'm just way off, but I really, really just need to be honest with you."

"I appreciate that," Renee said, turning to him. "Go on."

How could he continue with her looking at him? He tried to focus on something over her right shoulder and went on.

"Obviously, things have changed a lot since high school-I know you don't really need me to tell you that- and now, well… We didn't get off to the best start."

Her expression remained intent, listening. Mike felt some of his confidence returning.

"We've both made some mistakes-me especially-but Renee, ever since I saw you at that fire, ever since we ran into each other at P.O.P., it seems like all I've been able to think about is you."

The corners of Renee's mouth turned up the way they did when she was about to make a joke. "Gosh, Mike. How do you get anything done?"

Normally he would have laughed, but now he was on a roll.

"Sometimes it's hard to get stuff done," he admitted, "but I've been doing a lot of thinking-too much thinking-and that's why I just have to be up front and tell you that I… I… Renee, I love you."

In that moment, Mike didn't even care what her reaction would be. He didn't care if she laughed, smacked him, or stormed off. It made no difference if she kissed him or tried to talk him out of it. Suddenly, Mike felt weightless, free. He no longer felt burdened by uncertainty and secrets. In that moment he knew, no matter what Renee's response, that he could finally move forward.

Renee was silent. Then her lips curved into a smile, almost a sad smile. Her eyes glistened with sudden wetness.

"Mike," she said, "I don't know what to tell you."

"Just be honest," he said.

"I guess I've just become so used to running away, to avoiding things. I guess maybe that's all I ever did." She lifted a finger and gently brushed at her eyes. "But I've spent a lot of time thinking, too, Mike, and I would be a liar if I said that I didn't love you, too."

They drew each other into a hug, a tight, earnest hug. Mike felt so overcome with relief that he didn't even how how to respond. What should he say? What was there to say? He decided that maybe it was one of those times where it was best to say nothing.

At long last, Mike had found the answers he had sought for so long, and the ending he had pined for. While the last several years had been confusing and at times torturous, they had not passed in vain. Rather, the years apart had helped them grow as people, to help them realize just how much they meant to each other.

"So what do you say?" Mike asked, drawing back and looking Renee in the eyes. "Are you willing to give us another chance?"

"Yes," Renee replied with a weak smile. "But let's take it slow this time; I'm not in any hurry."

Mike returned her smile. "Neither am I."