She forgot where she was for a few minutes. With a quick glance at the clock; it read four-ten in the morning. She pulled her arms out from under the blankets and realized how cold it was outside the covers, but warm and comfy snuggled under the several layers of blankets. Lana smiled when she thought about how life looked so grand in the morning after a good night's sleep and incredible sex. She smiled thinking about the unequivocal pleasures of last night. Lazily she rolled over to ogle Mike. To her surprise, he happened to be staring right at her and she jumped, startled. "Honey, what are you doing?" she asked.
"Watching you sleep. And the answer to your next question, I've been watching you for about twenty minutes. You're pretty cute when you sleep, with a little drool running down your chin."
"Why didn't you wake me? We could have snuggled sooner." She got aggravated at him.
"Babe we have a lifetime for that, and you looked so cute sleeping. Plus, you needed the rest." Even with all that has happened he knew she would sleep soundly with him there to protect her. By watching her this morning, he knew he was right.
She wrapped her arms around him and snuggled in close.
"You know what babe?" he asked while caressing her beautiful face.
"What?" she answered, closing her eyes and enjoying his touch.
"I know it is cold outside, but the ocean is so beautiful at sunrise. Let's get up and go for a walk. I'm not talking a long walk, maybe just the length of a football field. The sun coming up in the morning is incredible, and I want to share that with you. Do you remember the beautiful sunset when you drove up the other night? The sunrise is just as beautiful."
"Yes, I was in awe. I would love to go for a walk with you. But only if you get a fire going and you fix the heater, that way we'll walk into a warm house." Never did her hands stop caressing him.
He pulled her close and kissed her. "That's a deal. But first let's create our own heat."
*****
She finished getting ready for their invigorating walk by piling on layers of clothing. Mike looked at her and laughed. "You look like a blue Pillsbury Doughboy." Everything on her was bundled up except the middle of her face.
"I feel like him too. We better hope I don't fall, I may never get up," she giggled. She didn't have any gloves, so she had to keep her hands in her pockets… or Mike's. Walking outside was a cold shock, especially once they left the protection of the porch. Neither one of them could see much. In the distance, they saw an orange sliver of a line. Obviously it was the sun, but it wasn't going to help them see—not yet. The sun woke up and crept into the new day, an inch at a time.
As it rose it looked like it peeked over the ends of the earth, yawning. The tip of the sun looked so close if they stretched their fingers they could touch it. The many clouds in the sky played peek-a-boo with it, but the sun rose so majestically, it didn't pay any attention to the clouds. "Oh Mike, this is beautiful."
He gave her a sweet hug and put her hands in his jacket pockets. He couldn't stand her being cold. "I told you… it's worth bearing the elements, don't you think?"
"Yes, can we just stand here for a few more minutes to imprint this vision in my mind?" As the size of the sun grew, she imagined how it would look on a hot summer morning. The steam off the water would make the sun look like a mirage.
They walked several feet down the beach to some chairs that were arranged to face this beauty. Mike pulled the two chairs together, and they sat down to watch the breathtaking view.
"You should see this in the summer, the sun looks enormous."
"I will this coming summer, and I'm going to make you sit out here with me every morning."
She noticed when the waves capped it looked like ships in the distance against the orange sky.
She thought about how many women had mistaken the waves for ships bringing their husbands home—bringing with them stories of their travels and bearing gifts from foreign lands. Lana reached over and gave Mike a passionate kiss saying, "Oh Mike, I've missed you so much. Please tell me about your travels… and what did you bring me?"
"What?" He looked at her as though she had lost her mind.
In her English accent, she asked again, "Sire, what did you bring for me while traveling yonder foreign lands? Warm thyself by the fire and speak of your travels."
Mike took off one of his gloves and dug in his pocket pulling out a quarter. "Milady, I bring you treasures from a land called England. This token I will give to your father in return for your hand in marriage."
"Thank you, Sire." She took the quarter and put it in her pants pocket to keep forever. She never wanted to forget this moment. "Oh Mike this is the best sunrise I think I've ever seen." A few hundred yards down the beach Lana saw a cement wall with boulders all around it. "Mike let's walk to the wall."
"I love to sit on that wall and watch the rain in the distance. You can see for miles, and it's amazing to see the lightning shoot across the sky. It's better than Fourth of July fireworks."
"I can imagine." She was preoccupied with something she saw on the beach. It was some sort of colorful fabric. As they got closer, she thought it was a beach ball sticking out of the sand.
Mike stopped when Lana let go of his hand. She walked over and pulled it out. It was a small piece of vinyl that, many years ago, had many bright colors: white, red, green, yellow and blue. It was only an eight inch square worn piece of vinyl. Memories flooded her mind as she picked it up and examined it. "Mike, what do you think this is?"
He examined it for a minute. "It's an old umbrella that probably got torn up during a storm.
Usually people bring in the beach furniture at the end of summer. Who knows what happened with this, maybe someone cut it up to make a flag for a sandcastle. Why?"
Uncontrollable tears rolled down Lana's face. She just sat down on the sand and bawled like a baby. "I'm sorry I'm crying, but I just couldn't help myself." She cried every time she looked at the piece of vinyl, reminiscing.
He sat on the sand next to her and held her close. Mike just let her cry it out. But he was bewildered why she was upset. "Honey, just cry all you want but tell me what's hurting you."
"Years ago, when I was a little girl, my family came to the Cape Cod area for a vacation.
That was the first time I had ever seen the ocean, and we had an incredible time playing on the beach, eating seafood and just enjoying life. My daddy was Irish, and his skin couldn't handle the sun, so he would walk around toting an umbrella. Mike, it looked just like this one with many colors on it. Everyone laughed so hard at him because he toted it everywhere on the beach. He was the only person who carried an enormous cover." She got choked up remembering that one precious moment. "What I remember the most about that umbrella is my mom and dad would kiss under it."
He held her close. "Oh baby, take it back to your dad and he'll be proud you found such a treasure."
Once he stood he extended his hand to help her stand.
"He died two weeks after our vacation. He died at work. He worked on machinery. One day he slipped and fell into the machine and it crushed his head. They couldn't turn off the machine fast enough to save him. Coming here, to Cape Cod, was our last vacation."
All he could do was hold her and try to take her burden away. His heart hurt for her. "I'm sorry baby, what can I do for you?" He knew how death played havoc on a person's emotions, and she had been through a lot the last few days.
"I thought I resolved this sad memory years ago. But when I looked at this little piece of cloth, it brought them all back." She didn't want to spoil their happy moment, so she put the piece of vinyl in her pocket with the quarter. "Mike I'm beginning to look like a homeless person collecting things that don't mean anything."
"They do to you." Her innocent emotions were a part of her personality he was attracted to most. She never had a problem showing how she felt. He liked that much better than bottling every emotion.
"Honey, put your arms around this Pillsbury Doughboy, I need a hug," she said.
"Come here chubby." He held her for a long time, and they just watched the sun come up and hide behind the clouds.
While he held her, she slipped her hands under his jacket to touch his tummy, and he felt warm. He didn't seem to mind, nor did he yelp when she touched him with her freezing hands.
He truly was an incredible man with a six pack tummy. "Do you think we can catch the wall on a warm day in the future? It's so cold, and I'm ready to get warm. Besides, I'm getting hungry."
"We sure can."
When Mike opened the back door, the heat felt invigorating. "Mr. Ramsey, how would you like some breakfast?"
"Breakfast sounds wonderful, I'm hungry. What do you want to eat?"
"Anything sounds good to me. I'm starving. That walk in the fresh air gave me an appetite,"
she answered while shedding her coats.
Before she walked off, he gently raised her chin to look at him. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, baby I'm okay. I just had a déjà vu moment." She rummaged through the fridge. An omelet sounded good, and she had everything for that. When she saw the steak, it reminded her of dinner. She stuck her head in the living room. "Hey babe, how about steak for dinner? I can mix a marinade if that sounds good to you."
"That sounds great, do you have steak?"
"Yes, I picked one up at the store a couple days ago. I'll start the marinade and get the steak soaking in it. Do you mind if I use some of your wine?" Wine in the marinade was a must, but she wanted to have enough for dinner.
"Not at all, and we can get some more wine later if we need it. Just whatever you want, it's your day." Then he added with a wink and grin, "But it's my night."
She giggled as she made an omelet.
*****
She just finished putting on her makeup when Mike popped his head in the bathroom. "I'm going to put my tools in the truck and look around outside. So take your time. We'll go when you're ready."
"I'll be ready in a few minutes." He was already gone. She wondered where they'd go today—where their adventure would lead them. In their near future, they would be visiting museums and light houses.
When she finished putting away her makeup she lingered, looking at his shaving cream and razor sitting on the bathroom counter. She had to touch them because he had touched them just a few minutes ago. The sink had been washed out, but there were still a few hairs in it. The toothpaste cap wasn't put back on the tube tight. All his toiletries were haphazardly thrown all over the counter. The towel had been thrown on the floor. She smiled when she looked up at hers properly hung over the bar by the toilet. His clothes were tossed on the floor next to the sink. She wanted to remember this moment so she would never fuss at him for not picking up his stuff. She had learned there are more serious problems than a few toiletries out of place.
She took one last look around and made a quick check to see that the bathroom window was locked tight. She guessed she would have to follow Mike around and close and lock all windows.
Being a cop with his massive stature allowed him to have the freedom of security. Being a woman and not a cop, she tended to be a little more cautious.
She walked into the living room where he was relaxed in the recliner watching the weather.
"Wow, you look pretty. Are you ready to eat? I'm starved."
"I'm starved too." If he thought her wardrobe looked worn or tattered, he never said anything.
He got up and helped her with her coat and then blew a squeegy on her neck.
"Mike!"
"Come on homeless woman."
She giggled.
*****
"I'm so hungry I could eat you," he said as he started eating her fingers. "I hope you like the place I picked out, and yes, they have chicken just for you." He played with the radio, pushing buttons and not finding what he wanted. She thought maybe he wanted seventies music, so she dug out her iPod and connected it to the stereo. The iPod happened to be set on rock-n-roll from the sixties and seventies. Mike nodded and said, "I like that—if you don't mind just leave it on that section. You have quite a variety of music on your iPod. I'm impressed."
"Thank you kind sir."
"So what are you hungry for, or should I guess… chicken?"
Her mind wondered over the many alternatives available. "Well, we are going to have steak tonight, so I guess someplace with seafood. Or even some place with soup. It's so cold—soup sounds really good after our walk this morning, but definitely a light lunch."
"Today milady I'll be taking you to a restaurant called the Fireplace Inn. I've never been there, but I hear they have great food."
"That sounds good to me. Maybe they'll have potato soup."
There weren't many cars were in the restaurant parking lot, and their spot had an incredible view of the Atlantic Ocean. The restaurant was nonconforming with two smoke stacks that made it look like a miniature Titanic. There were decks you could walk out on to look at the ocean. If they served food out there, it wasn't evident, or at least not this time of the year.
They walked from the car holding hands with such excitement in the air. The old, rickety gangplank wobbled and squeaked as they walked up, and she realized the restaurant was a ship.
"Mike I love this place; it's a boat, did you know that?"
"Yes, I thought you might like a romantic lunch."
"Oh honey, you are so thoughtful, and this is a wonderful surprise just like you promised."
She pulled on his coat so he could bend down to get a kiss."So tell me about this place." She wanted to hear everything about it.
"This place was built around the turn of the century, and it was dry docked in the sixties then someone bought it in the eighties and opened it as a restaurant. I imagine there have been many proposals here."
"Are you trying to tell me something? Or should I say ask me something?"
"Actually I read that in the newspaper. It said this is the number one place where proposals take place in this area." He knew he wanted to propose to her soon. How he would propose, was the question. Since this would be his last marriage, he wanted it to be memorable. Thoughts ran through Mike's mind about how he would propose; airplane banner, hot air balloon, TV, or skydiving. The possibilities were endless, and he would make it memorable. His heart raced just thinking about being married to Lana. At that moment, he decided he would bring her to this place every October 15th, the day they met.
When they walked in the entrance, it looked just like a boat from the turn of the century, and they had done a fantastic job restoring it. The entrance had wooden benches curving around the front. Above the archway and along the walls were all kinds of nets, life preservers, captain's wheel, pictures, and sea shells. There was a majestic staircase shaped just like the staircase on the Titanic. It wasn't quite as luxurious, but beautiful nonetheless.
When the hostess seated them in a booth, Lana noticed all the tables and booths were bolted to the floor. The table clothes were made of white linen with matching napkins. Right across from the tables stood a beautiful stone fireplace decorated in a nautical theme. All around the walls were many old pictures of sailors, ships, and captains with their crews and families. After looking at the incredible massive fireplace, she could certainly see where they got the name Fireplace Inn.
Even the music coming through the speakers was soft and romantic. The music was from the thirties and forties, the Big Band Era. They threw in some blues along with the big band. One familiar voice was Billie Holiday. It sounded so authentic with the static from the speakers. If Lana closed her eyes, she could visualize her singing on this ship."Oh Mike I love it, and I'll like it even better if they have potato soup."
"You know, I think you talked me into soup as well, but I think I'll add a sandwich." He winked at her and added, "It's a guy thing."
"And I can vouch you are truly a wonderful guy." He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss.
She held his hand, and his hands warmed hers quickly. Men always seemed to have warmer hands than women; she wondered if there happened to be a scientific reason for that.
"Excuse me, here are some menus and water," said the perky waitress giggling. "I didn't mean to interrupt," then she giggled again. Lana thought, what an adorable young lady. The waitress's hair was tied back with a clasp, but a few hairs were straggling along the girl's back.
Her eyes were a bright hazel, and they squinted when she giggled. Her make-up was perfect, not too much of anything. Her fair complexion looked like a china doll, but many people were like that in the north. She was a little overweight, but her five-foot-seven height helped hide it along with her clean white apron. But what Lana noticed most was the soft pink lip gloss she had on, just enough to brighten her smile.
Mike asked, " What do you recommend today?"
Giggle, giggle. "I like the smoked salmon, and the soup of the day is oyster stew." Giggle, giggle.
They couldn't help smiling at her. "Do you, by any chance, have potato soup?" Lana asked.
Giggle. "Umm, I don't know, but I can ask."
"Please do, I'm in the mood for that today. In the meantime I'll look at the menu," Lana said.
Giggle. "Okay." Giggle.
Mike squeezed her leg under the table trying not to giggle. He snickered when she went back to the kitchen.
Lana whispered, "Mike I forgot to tell her to bring us some sweet tea… all because you were playing with my leg under the table."
He nibbled on her ear. "Babe I have just started playing."
"You are so bad," she said as she raised her sleeve so he could see the goose bumps he caused.
Then he sang the song, Bad to the Bone.
"Babe, I love the way you sing," she said as the snuggled close to him. She took a deep breath remembering him serenading her last night.
While they waited, they looked out across the ocean. Several boats leisurely floated by, and Mike knew the make and model of all of them and how much they cost. "Honey, see that first yacht with the pointed bow, it is a seventy-two footer called Grand Banks Aleutian RP, and it cost well over two million dollars."
"How do you know this?" she asked.
"I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express."
Lana rolled her head back with laughter.
He raised his left eyebrow as if to say, don't interrupt me. "I've always wanted a yacht to sail when I retire, but this one is out of my league." Another yacht motored in, entering the port smoothly. "This next beauty is a seventy-eight footer called Ferretti 780 and it's probably valued at about three million dollars."
"Well Mike, I think we should go buy one today."
"I wish I could buy a boat today. Maybe one day I can afford the row boat that goes with these yachts."
"Well there should be one you can afford—one a little bigger than a row boat."
"I'll keep looking, and one day the perfect boat will come along," he said while daydreaming.
"Do you want to live on one?" Lana asked while taking a drink of her water. It tasted like fish.
"Not literally, but I'd like to sail for months at a time. Would you go with me?"
"Yes, I would love to go. I've never been anywhere on such a big boat, but I'd give it a try."
She was the first woman he dated who ever considered sailing with him. All the other women always complained about leaving friends, family, and work. Lana didn't even hesitate.
The waitress came back with her giggle and said, "The chef said if you have a little time he would be glad to make you some potato soup." Giggle, giggle.
Lana could not have been happier. "That's what I'll have and tell your chef thanks you so much, he made my day."
Mike added, "I'll have the same thing, and I'll add a Philly steak sandwich with mine."
Giggle, giggle. "What do you want on your sandwich?"
Mike squeezed her leg under the table, and it tickled her. "I want everything on it. I'll trust the chef. Oh, and we both want sweet tea."
She picked up the menus and said, "I'll bring you some bread and sweet tea." And off she went with a giggle, giggle.
She couldn't help herself as she moved her hand up Mike's thigh and leaned close to his ear and said, "Giggle giggle."
As they left the restaurant they were both rubbing their bellies, full to the brim. The potato soup was the best they ever had—better than Lana's own recipe. The waitress was their entertainment, and they could hear her giggling while waiting on other tables.
Mike started the truck and took her hands to warm them, deciding that keeping her hands warm would be his life mission. Several pairs of gloves would be one of the first Christmas gifts he purchased for her.
"Where are we heading next? I can't wait." she asked with a quick kiss.
"How about the Pilgrim Hall Museum, it has a bunch of stuff about the pilgrims that date back to 1620."
"That sounds like fun. What kind of stuff do they have there?"
"They have William Bradford's Bible, Myles Standish's sword, the only portrait of a Pilgrim named Edward Winslow, the cradle of New England's first-born Peregrine White, the grand chair of William Brewster, and I think they have a lot of stuff from Myles Standish."
"Let's go there. Have you ever been to this museum?"
"Nope."
"Do you want to do something else?"
"Nope."
"Since you live in this area, why haven't you visited this museum before today?" She was determined to get more than one word answers.
"When Kathy and I first moved here we had little kids, and I traveled eighty-percent of the time with my job, so she was mom and dad to them. Later she got sick and…," he choked up and had to regain his composure before he could finish. He wasn't ready to talk about her death. "... I just don't like to go to these places alone."
"Mike I didn't mean to bring up past memories, I just want to make new ones with you."
After his answer, she knew one day they would have to sit down and have a long talk about their pasts.
"I like to remember the past, it makes me appreciate every moment I have now, and I appreciate you." He looked down as if he were thinking of something.
"Honey, please don't be sad," she said.
He looked in her eyes, and his face turned pale. "I thought about what it would be like if I lost you. I don't want to think about it; it would kill me if that happened. Honey, I don't want to lose you, ever."
"You're stuck with me forever… or at least thirty years."
"That's not good enough. I want at least fifty years."
"You've got it." She scooted close to Mike and wrapped her freezing hands around the arm of his wool jacket.
*****
Every nook and cranny of the quaint museum was filled with incredible history. They held hands and walked through the several rooms, reading everything on the walls and in the glass cases.
They read about a desk and chair, and how it was used signing in laws. The chair showed signs of wear, and she imagined how the forefathers talked of treaties, laws, women, and Indians while sitting in it. On the desk sat an ink well. Lana daydreamed about how many quill pens were dipped in it. Maybe a young girl wrote her fiancé who lived in Europe and told him about their hardships in America.
The pilgrims had a difficult life and might have starved had it not been for the Indians. Then the pilgrims got greedy and wanted what the Indians had. "You know Mike, the Indians led a very simple life, and then the white man came and took everything they had."
"Yeah, and it is sad."
"It would be interesting to see how history might have changed if Christopher Columbus never found America."
"All I know is we might not have met."
"That is so true," she agreed.
The artifacts were impressive. She called Mike over and whispered, "I didn't know Myles Standish was involved with the massacre of Indians. That bothers me. Why can't we just all get along with each other?"
"You know, I think Myles's wife coined that phrase."
Lana stopped in her tracks and laughed. "Mike you are so feisty, but that's okay as long as you're this feisty when it comes to my back rub tonight."
"I think I can handle that request," he said as he reached over and held her hand. He noticed they were cold. He walked behind her and put her hands in his pockets along with his. "Is this better?"
"Yes, but how will we walk around like this?"
"We'll manage." Then he kissed her on top of her head. Thinking of Lana being cold bothered him to the core. Keeping her warm and safe was his job. The idea of keeping her near him and protected made his heart content. Since the death of Kathy, never had he thought about taking care of any woman. Not that he wanted anything to happen to them, and he cared about their safety. Somehow it was different when love was involved.
They spent several hours looking at the all the chairs, desks, writing tools, paintings, and artifacts. They didn't miss one thing in the small museum. When everything was examined, they decided to head home.
As they walked outside Lana bumped into a man, hard. He almost fell over, but she grabbed him before he could fall, then she apologized. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I must have been daydreaming."
Mike stepped between them. He was more than ready to intervene if he had to, but since the guy appeared to be nice about the incident, Mike relaxed.
"That's okay ma'am. By the way, is this ramp the entrance to the pilgrims' museum?"
Huh? He said museum so funny—as though he was saying mooseum. "Yes sir, this is the entrance," she answered, but something kept nagging at her.
*****
When they drove up to the house, Mike noticed a light on in the kitchen. "Babe, did we leave the light on in the house?"
"I don't remember, but we could have." Her nerves started that familiar flicker of anxiety.
She wished Mike had never said a word. Normally when she saw a light on, she would walk in and turn it off. Considering what happened the last couple of days, her normal routine was not routine anymore.
"Hon, you wait here, and I'll check out the house." He pulled a gun from his jacket and cautiously walked into the house. She nervously waited and decided as long as there wasn't any yelling everything would be okay. Within a few minutes, he returned and said, "Everything looks fine. I probably turned the light on when we left."
"I'm sure you did."
Once they took off their coats, Mike started a fire while Lana grabbed some wood to help.
Mike stacked the wood Boy Scout style then put newspaper under it.
"Baby I see you have the fire under control and don't need me to supervise anymore, so I'm going to put the potatoes on or they will never get done," she said as she patted his butt while walking past him.
"Don't start something you can't stop. I might have to help you in the kitchen… in more ways than cooking."
"Come on big boy, I'm sure I can handle you." She washed the potatoes, stabbed them with a fork, wrapped them in foil and popped them in the heating oven.
Mike stood in front of the fire staring at what lay within it. His eyes sparkled against the glow of the flames. With a poker in one hand and his shoulder against the mantle, he was a sight to see. Now and then he would poke a little at the fire, and a few sparks would fly around in a circle then fizzle out, screaming a hissing sound as they went. He seemed to be mesmerized.
Watching him, she couldn't resist putting her arms around him and giving him a sweet hug.
He reciprocated the gesture with zeal… and a kiss.
She noticed how gentle he