Today was Lana's flight to Boston, and she sat waiting for her plane drinking her second cup of coffee. Normally she didn't like the hustle and bustle of the busy airports, but today it kept her mind busy and off her woes. The people at the airport moved around without a care in the world except to catch their plane and get to their destination. Kids played, cell phones buzzed, couples held hands, and everyone was filled with life.
Two aisles over a newly married couple were discussing where they wanted to visit when they got to Boston. The young bride mentioned she wanted to go see eerily haunted
lighthouses—emphasizing the word eerily. She also wanted to tour all the famous old houses and the Boston Common, where hangings took place. The girl read out loud, "Many events happened at the Boston Common, but the most notable were the hangings. In 1660 Mary Dyer, along with three other Quakers, was hung. Still today, many people see Mary Dyer standing by the hanging noose wearing a black dress."
The young groom, on the other hand, talked about relaxing in the hotel room. Lana smiled because she knew what that meant. They were adorable and full of love, holding hands and smooching every five seconds. She knew they would work it out between them. Life goes on, Lana thought.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a man. "Is this seat taken?"
"Oh no, please sit down," Lana answered trying to be polite, but she honestly did not want to chitchat. She moved her belongings out of the chair, and felt inconsiderate given the airport was packed with people.
"Are you on your way to Boston for business or pleasure? By the way, my name is Peter."
He reached his hand out to shake hers, and she obliged.
"I'm going to Plymouth for a vacation, and my name is Lana. Are you on your way home?"
she asked to be cordial, even though she could care less.
"My home is New Jersey, but I have some business in Boston. If you're interested in getting out, there are lots of sights to see in Boston. You can visit the Museum of Fine Arts, The Prudential Skywalk, and Paul Revere House for starters."
"Thanks, I might consider that, but I'm staying at a beach house outside of Boston, and I'm not sure if I'll get back to Boston before I leave." She kind of liked the idea of going to those places. She noticed when he said museum—he said it oddly. He said mooseum, like calling a cow.
"There are plenty of lighthouses, and nowadays you can even stay the night in some of them."
"I'm sure Plymouth has many sights or many lighthouses."
"I think they have some of the oldest lighthouses in the nation. There's Wings Neck, Sandy Neck, Nobska Point, Race Point, Highland Light, Wood End, and Long Point Light."
"Oh my, you do know your lighthouses." Her eyes widened as he rattled them off his tongue without thinking about it.
"My wife and I tour lighthouses a few times a year. We enjoy the history of all of them.
Sometimes we even go ghost hunting in them."
Their conversation was interrupted. "Lana Andrews, please report to Gate 14." Lana looked over to the young attendant who motioned for her to come to the gate.
"I hear my name being called. It was nice talking to you. Have a safe trip," she said while gathering her belongings.
"You have a safe trip too."
When Lana made the reservation she mentioned she wanted to sit alone. The attendant
informed her of an empty seat at the back of the plane with no one near her.
Lana took it.
*****
The back of the plane must have been the working area. There were many men in their
William Fioravanti, Milan's Caraceni, and Polo Ralph Lauren suits. They were getting out their laptops, and their Android phones were buzzing. Obviously, the men flew many times because their belongings were organized in their small, tight space. The last few minutes they were hurriedly talking with their wives and offices, planning supper and making deals. One of the men even talked about giving one hundred thousand dollars to the Heart Association, and considering what happened with James, Lana was elated. She got out her small HP laptop, not as fancy as theirs, but she was in the business section and needed to look busy. She even put her glasses on to look important.
Once in the air, her heart lightened. In just a few short hours, she would be strolling along the beach and walking through her little quaint beach house. She might even sit for awhile and watch the Gurnet lighthouse across the cove.
Tennessee's weather was warm, and she was anticipating the brisk fall weather of Cape Cod, and a blazing fire to keep her warm at night. Is the fireplace wood-burning or gas? Lana racked her brain trying to remember. Deep down she'd hoped it would be wood-burning because she liked the crackling of the fire. Either way, it's a fresh start for her to apportion her feelings. Yes, an absolute yes, getting away had been the best thing she could have ever done.
She noticed Peter near the front of the plane. Although he seemed like a personable guy, she truly hoped he didn't come to the back. Since her flight would last three hours, she wanted to catch a couple of hours of sleep. She pulled out her Ipod and decided to listen to the Carpenters, her workout cool down music. The softness of the music might help her get the sleep she desperately needed.
When she started to doze, she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Peter. She pulled out an earplug.
"Hi Lana, I was on my way to the bathroom when I noticed you were sitting alone. I didn't want to pass you by without speaking."
"Hi Peter."
"Do you mind if I sit for awhile?" he asked, almost sitting down without an invitation.
"Peter, if you don't mind I just want to be alone right now, but thanks for the chitchat earlier."
She could tell her reaction didn't make him happy when he reluctantly nodded and walked off with a scowl on his face. She guessed he had already gone to the bathroom.
*****
There was a long line at Enterprise car rental. The attendant seemed frustrated when she surveyed at least twenty people waiting. Lana was aggravated to have nine people in front of her.
Children were anxious and running around as their parents tried to corral them. An upset couple yelled at the attendant because their reserved car had been rented to someone else. She offered an upgrade free of charge, but they wouldn't hear of it. While waiting in line, she thought about relaxing on the back porch and listening to the waves and wind. Some people think going on vacation to a sunny place would be more cheerful, but not for her. Fall was her favorite season, and while some people thought going south to the sun was a real vacation, she knew the north would be her best destination. Today was a dreary day, just the way she liked it. She didn't even mind some rain, as long as it didn't rain the entire vacation.
Knowing she would be in line for awhile she called Mike Ramsey, the beach house owner to let him know she was running late. She dreaded the call because he always acted as though she annoyed him.
He picked up the phone on the third ring. "Hello," he answered in his husky voice.
"Hi Mike, this is Lana. I wanted to let you know the plane was late because of bad weather, and there's a long line at Enterprise. How do you want me to pick up the keys?" She scrunched her face, dreading the answer. He never said anything to reassure her.
As expected, his answer was quick and to the point. "I'll meet you at the house. What time do you think you will get there?"
Lana tried to balance everything in her hands while trying to look at the time on her cell phone. "About two… maybe three… hours, do you want to hide the key for me?"
"No, I'll meet you at the house."
"Thanks. I really appreciate it," she replied with all sincerity.
"You're welcome. I'll see you then." He hung up abruptly.
Well, at least he said you're welcome—that's a good start.
When she finally got her little gas-saver Ford Focus, she continued her journey to Plymouth.
She noticed the overcast sky had darkened and all the leaves had fallen leaving the trees bare.
The leaves conjured happy memories of childhood when her and James would rake the leaves in a pile and jump in the middle. She had tried her hardiest to get James to do the raking so she could do the jumping, but he wouldn't hear of it. They spent hours raking and jumping. No matter how many scratches they got from the rough dry leaves and twigs, they jumped over and over in the pile. When they were about ten, they piled the leaves almost as tall as the house and then jumped into them from the roof. It was a miracle they didn't break their necks.
*****
Thank the stars for GPS or Lana would never have found the beach house. It was a beautiful drive. The sunset glowed, leaving remnants of orange and purple lingering in the sky. The ocean roared to her left, and she cracked the window so she could smell the salt in the air.
As she turned onto the cul-de-sac, she could see fire coming from the chimney. It was a wood burning fireplace. As she drove closer to the house, she couldn't believe what a breathtaking view. Talk about a Thomas Kincaid setting. The house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac and behind the house was the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean. The anvil clouds allowed the deep setting sun to peek through just a little bit. Flickers of orange bounced off the waves as they capped. The orange made the ocean look like a dream. Lights illuminated through the windows at this quaint little beach house causing a faint glow. The hint of fog in the air made the glowing look like Heaven, or at least how she imagined Heaven. Just the sweet look of the house made her feel propitious.
Next to the house sat an old white 1982 Dodge pickup. She knew it was Mike's truck and, although she never met Mike, she knew he looked like a ship's captain—a gruff looking man who was short, chubby, and grumpy. She imagined he had a long white beard with a pipe. Also, he had a short temperament with a get-to-the-point personality. She also knew he'd be annoyed with her for being so late. And now that she saw his truck, she thought her initial description of him would be right.
As she got out of the car she felt the crisp salt air sting her face, and it felt good. The air was refreshing, and for the first time in weeks, she felt peace in her heart. Peace turned to nervousness when the front door opened, and Mike walked out to the front porch. She knew he would fuss at her. But instead she heard his warm words say in his incredible deep voice,
"Welcome to Massachusetts! I hope you had a good trip. I have started a warm fire for you."
His kindness surprised her, and she thought that gesture was a change for the better. Lana graciously responded, not quite paying attention to him. She preferred looking at the amazing scenery. "Hi Mike, at first I was going to say again how sorry I am that I'm late, but now I'm not.
A few minutes later—I might have missed all this beauty. What a beautiful home you have, especially at sunset. This is far more beautiful than I ever expected, I did time this perfectly."
She finally looked up and took a good look at him. She was taken aback by his height. He was every bit of six-foot-four with salt and pepper hair, mostly pepper, piercing sky-blue eyes, and a smile that would brighten any gloomy day. He was in excellent shape with no chubby tummy on him. His five o'clock shadow showed he'd had a long day. He wore jeans and a blue oxford button-up shirt with a black jacket. The shirt certainly brought out his blue eyes, even at dusk.
She noticed his crisp white T-shirt under his shirt, and thought it looked refreshing.
His rugged good looks caught her off-guard, and she was at a loss for words. She fumbled with her keys and finally found the trunk key. Awkwardly, she managed to walk to the back to get her two bags. In just a few quick steps, he moved in close behind her, reaching for the suitcases. His strong arm brushed hers and just for a few seconds, their eyes met. Lana turned away, knowing her face turned bright red. She happily noticed his face also turned red. He easily lifted the heavy bags; it was like lifting a feather. She remembered how she struggled to put them in the trunk.
"Let me get those for you. As little as you are, I'm surprised you could lift them at all."
"I managed, and thank-you for helping."
She scampered in the house and noticed how warm and inviting it was. At the front door was a small entrance with the living room straight ahead, and it had a glowing fireplace to the right. On the left was the elegant kitchen with a small island that had a bar. Next to the bar sat a small but quaint dinette set. Off that room was the guest bedroom, and she noticed the bed covers were removed for the winter. To the right of the den was the master bedroom.
She loved the kitchen. The cabinets were made of old driftwood. All the appliances were stainless. This gorgeous kitchen would be one only seen in magazines, definitely a kitchen she could picture Mike building… or at least the captain Mike she first visualized.
The fire blazed, leaving an orange glow echoing across the room from the dark painted walls. The darkness of the room looked more like a mountain cabin than a beach house.
Mike placed some Bella Casara cheese and crackers on the bar, along with a bottle of Pinot Noir wine. He certainly had good taste in wine and cheese.
He interrupted her thoughts, "I knew you probably didn't have time to shop, so I bought a few things to get you through tomorrow. The wine is for you to enjoy this evening and relax."
She looked up at him to thank him, and his eyes looked squarely into hers before she embarrassingly looked down and said, "Thank you." Her face flushed, and her stomach flip-flopped as he walked past her. She thought he mumbled the words, you're welcome. When he reached the door, he quickly told her where he hung the keys and where he put his phone numbers. This time when she looked up he didn't look at her. Then he left without a proper goodbye, but she was too tired to think about it.
As she stepped onto the back porch, the darkness didn't allow her to catch a glimpse of the ocean, but she could hear it. The waves rolled in with a deafening roar. She closed her eyes and pictured the waves slamming the beach then disappearing into oblivion. She remembered as a child lying in bed and listening to the ocean talk to her. She hoped that same feeling relaxed her tonight. It was funny how she distinctly remembered the sound even though it was decades ago.
When she opened her eyes, her memory fast-forwarded to today and the reason she was
here… to mourn. Then, an overwhelming sorrow plagued her heart, and her eyes filled with tears. Lana wiped them away and told herself no more tears today. Instead, she got busy checking out the fridge. She found some smoked turkey breast and fixed a sandwich with a glass of milk. She looked at the bottle of wine and decided to save it for her last night. Once she cleaned the kitchen, she sat in front of the fire and watched the flames. The fire relaxed her soul, leaving her with a much-needed feeling of content.
Exhaustion had overridden her sadness—a blessed alternative. She lay on the couch, and a smile crossed her face as she thought about how Mike didn't fuss at her. Then darkness fell.