The Full Moon Bride

by Shobhan Bantwal

  However, the evening ended on a positive note when I called Rosemary once again in Seattle and learned that John Murzak was on the mend. He had been released from the hospital and was recuperating at home. Just to make sure Mac was kept informed, I sent him an e-mail about John’s progress.

  The next morning, as the alarm radio came on with a cheerful female voice wishing listeners a pleasant morning, I dragged my sluggish feet to the window to look outside. It was a lovely, sunny day with hardly a cloud in the sky.

  I was happy for one brief second before I remembered I was going down to Pemberton to meet with Lou. Although the prospect of seeing Lou was exciting, I dreaded the hike in the woods. Secretly I’d hoped for rain, something I almost never prayed for. Of course, with my luck, Mother Nature had to be uncooperative on the one day I wished for rain.

  Later, when I’d showered and dressed in jeans, sweatshirt, and sturdy sneakers, I saw the puzzled look on Mom’s face. She was used to seeing me in cool business suits and high heels on weekday mornings. “You have the day off?” she queried.

  “No, Mom. I’m going to Pemberton to look at the Pinelands.”

  “The Pinelands . . . in south Jersey?”

  “More like south central. One of my clients is building homes there and has some problems with the environmental people.”

  Mom thought about it for a second. “You want me to drive you to the train station?”

  “No train today. I’m driving to Pemberton.” I went to the refrigerator and poured myself a glass of skim milk.

  “Shall I make you a hot breakfast?” Mom was already reaching for the pancake mix in the pantry.

  “No breakfast, Mom. I expect to eat a big lunch in Pemberton. My contact said there’s a great deli there.”

  “Okay then.” She shut the pantry door. “Be careful driving on the highway, dear.”

  Mom said that every time I drove outside the town’s limits. I looked around. “Where’s Pamma this morning?”

  “Little bit under the weather today. She has a cold.”

  “Oh, the poor thing!” Pamma rarely got sick. At this time of the morning she usually sat at the kitchen table with her second cup of coffee and either had her nose buried in the New York Times or she’d be chopping and slicing vegetables in an effort to help my mother. “I’ll look in on her before I leave.”

  I finished the milk and checked my briefcase to make sure the printed e-mail directions Lou had sent me were there. If I still got lost, I had my dependable GPS in the car.

  When I went into Pamma’s room, I found the curtains shut tight and Pamma huddled under the blanket. The strong smell of her Indian cold remedy was everywhere. Assuming she was asleep, I tried to tiptoe out of there, but she must have sensed my presence. “Soorya, you are going to work?”

  “Yes, Pamma. Mom says you have a cold. Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”

  “No, baby, you go to office. I am using Amrutanjan and homeopathic tablets. I will be better soon.” She sounded like her nose was stuffed up.

  “If you want me to pick up something from the drugstore on my way home, tell Mom to call me on my cell.” I headed out, the medicinal fumes following me out the door.

  How ironic. Pamma’s son and daughter were noted doctors and she still used her old, time-honored cures—Amrutanjan, a pungent-smelling yellow balm, and homeopathic pills. But whatever she used seemed to work for her. She was in better shape than many folks her age.

  The ride along the highways was pleasant, perhaps because the weather was perfect or because I’d learned that John Murzak was on the road to recovery. Ever since Murzak had suffered a heart attack, to me he had become a symbol of how easily pesky government regulations could break a decent, hardworking man and ruin an established business.

  Traffic on the notorious turnpike was lighter than I’d anticipated, more than likely because I was traveling against the flow of traffic. Most folks were driving toward New York at this time of day and not away from it. I hadn’t driven this route in over a year and it was fun to note the passing billboards, office buildings, and Linden’s oil refineries as I sped by at seventy-five.

  The trees flanking the roadway were showing the first hint of fall color. It was the end of September. Another week or two and those trees would turn to lovely shades of red and russet and gold.

  When I finally took Exit 7 for Bordentown and followed Lou’s directions to go southeast to Pemberton, I realized I’d made it there in about two hours. As I exited onto the county roads, the area turned more wooded and less traveled. What a difference from northern Jersey.

  When I parked in front of the rectangular brick building that housed Lou’s temporary office, I could see why he’d chosen to come to my office the last time. This structure looked like an old homestead converted into a government place of business.

  As I stepped out of my car and retrieved my briefcase, Lou appeared at the door with an outstretched hand to offer me a welcoming handshake. In corduroy slacks and sweatshirt, he looked even bigger than he did in a suit the other day. The shirt stretched across massive shoulders and a wide chest. The sneakers were easily a size thirteen. My kind of guy.

  He gave me an approving nod. “I see you came prepared for a hike. Nice to see you again, Soorya.”

  “Good seeing you, too.” Did I sound a little too pleased?

  He ushered me into the building. Low, acoustic tile ceilings, old wood-paneled walls that had lost their polish ages ago, framed posters of the surrounding wilderness, and worn blue carpeting met me as I stepped inside. The odor of stale coffee hung in the air.

  We walked down a narrow hallway to Lou’s office at the rear of the building. He wasn’t kidding when he’d said it was a small room with no windows and no view. Industrial fluorescent tubes were the only source of light.

  He had a basic desk and chair, a bookcase, a file cabinet, and one lone guest chair. Lou motioned me to sit down. “Sorry, but I warned you about my little hole in the wall. My main office is in Trenton, at the DEP building—much nicer than this, but for the last two years I’ve been assigned part-time to this place.”

  “Don’t apologize, Lou. I have no problem with this.” We all had to make do with what was given to us. Looking at Lou’s quarters, I felt particularly grateful for my little corner office with its window.

  “Would you care for some coffee?”

  When I shook my head, he raised a brow. “Goes against your diet, I suppose?”

  “Something like that, but you go ahead if you want.” He said he’d had a big breakfast to fortify himself before the long hike ahead of us. My eyes roamed the small room and the clutter of files, books, folders, and binders. A map of the Pinelands was pinned to one wall, yellow highlighter marking zigzagging trails. There was a coffeemaker sitting atop one of the file cabinets.

  My gaze reverted back to the cramped desk, mostly swallowed up by Lou’s computer and printer, and came to rest on a photograph in a carved metal frame. A woman with soft eyes, wavy blond hair, and a Madonna-like smile looked out on the world through the frame.

  Lynne! She was attractive. Oh God, how unfair that such a sweetly pretty woman should die so young. I looked up and met Lou’s dark brooding eyes.

  He nodded. “That’s Lynne.”

  “I gathered that. She is . . . was beautiful, Lou.”

  “Yes.” Abruptly he picked up his car keys from the desk. “If you’re ready, we can leave now.” It was curt—like an order.

  I tore my eyes away from the woman in the photograph and looked at Lou, a little confused. The other day he’d seemed very open, talked so much about his wife, and yet now it seemed like the topic was taboo. “I thought we were going to discuss my client before going out,” I said cautiously.

  “We’re doing the survey first,” he snapped.

  Clearly I hadn’t been cautious enough. “Fine.”

  “You’ll understand some things more clearly after a walk in the woods,” he added, his tone softeni
ng a bit.

  Without another word I followed him. Had I said or done something to tick him off? It was as if a switch had been turned off.

  He turned to me as we approached the front door. “You had better use the ladies’ room now. The park’s restrooms aren’t exactly worth recommending.” He smiled faintly. It looked like Lynne had been forgotten for the moment. Thank goodness.

  I took his suggestion and used the ladies’ room. Then we drove away in Lou’s car, a white Dodge Neon with official New Jersey government license plates, complete with a toll-free number on the bumper that vigilant taxpayers could call if they noticed the vehicle being used for purposes other than official business.

  Smiling, I turned to Lou. “So, is this trip official or is someone going to call the hotline and report you for illegal use of the vehicle?”

  Lou returned the smile, obviously in a good mood again. “This is as official as it gets. But you won’t believe how many calls the hotline receives each week. People see a government issued car parked outside a McDonald’s and they immediately pull out their phones and lodge a complaint. They feel a public employee has no business eating.”

  “One of the perils of public service?”

  “Only one of the many perils.”

  We veered off the main road and took a more rural route. I had no idea where we were going, but all of a sudden we were surrounded by shadowy, piney woods. They looked mysterious and uninviting. I turned to Lou. “Home of the Jersey Devil, right?”

  “Maybe you could come again sometime when they have a Jersey Devil hunt,” he suggested.

  “If you promise it’s not during the night. I like to see where I’m going so I don’t step on snakes.”

  “Chicken! It’s no fun in the light of day. The Devil is known to come out of his lair only at night.” Several minutes later, Lou came to a stop in a large clearing and shut off the ignition. “All right, Counselor, get ready for some serious walking.”

  Reluctantly I followed him to what looked like a well-used hiking trail. The path was free of grass and scrub and tamped down to hard gray soil. It was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, so we ambled and talked. Only a handful of people seemed to be using the trail at the moment.

  Lou explained that on weekdays the place was quiet. Weekends were apparently more crowded. Besides, it was the start of the fall season, and the crowds thinned out after the kids went back to school and the air turned cooler. The dense canopy of pines kept out the sun and I realized it was a bit chilly. I was glad I’d picked a thick sweatshirt for this outing.

  While we strolled, Lou pointed to different shrubs and ferns, and their complex botanical names rolled easily off his tongue. It appeared he had taken his botany lessons as seriously as his legal ones.

  As we went deeper into the forest, it turned darker and quieter, but it had a haunting beauty all its own, with the occasional twitter of birds and the smell of damp earth mixed with the sharp scent of pine.

  Every once in a while a tiny patch of blue sky became visible, only to disappear in a second. It was lovely and peaceful, but surely a problem for allergy sufferers. Good thing I’d remembered to take my antihistamine, or I’d be sneezing endlessly by now.

  Now and then, little forest critters seemed to scramble invisibly. Once, the sound was close enough to startle me and Lou smiled at what must have been a look of alarm on my face. “Only rabbits and squirrels. They don’t bite.”

  “Good.” The trail wound around and it seemed like we were going in circles. “You’re sure you know where we’re going?” I asked Lou.

  “Positive,” he assured me, easing my mind on that score. I didn’t want to be lost in the wilderness—possibly my worst nightmare. The idea of getting lost in the Bronx at midnight was far less intimidating than losing my way at 10:30 A.M. in a forest filled with crawling, slithering creatures.

  After we’d walked for what seemed like a mile and my breath was becoming labored, Lou must have felt sorry for me, because he suggested we sit down and take a breather. So we sat on a fallen pine log and I rested my legs. I was pitifully out of shape. It was embarrassing, considering Lou seemed barely winded.

  Pulling out a roll of mints from his pocket, he offered me one. “They’re white, sugar free, and vegetarian.” With a chuckle I took one before we resumed walking.

  A little later, he stopped me abruptly by grabbing my arm, then pointed to something to one side. I held my breath. A herd of deer stood amongst the trees, looking like a scene from a wildlife painting. A few full-grown deer and several smaller ones grazed peacefully. One was an adorable baby with spindly legs and enormous eyes.

  Roger’s big, cinnamon eyes came to mind. Even here, in the middle of the backwoods, Roger wouldn’t leave me in peace.

  I stood staring at the picture. Although there were deer in the small thicket behind our home, we had a high wire fence that kept them out. This was the first time I’d seen wild deer this close. They were beautiful. They looked up and spied us but continued to graze nonchalantly. They were probably used to seeing humans along these trails.

  “How enchanting,” I whispered and continued to observe the herd.

  Lou nudged me to start moving again. “You up to seeing a rattlesnake now?”

  “No, please no. I—I’m allergic to reptiles.”

  One glance at my face and Lou gave a bark of laughter. “I was kidding. For a moment there I thought you were going to faint, Soorya.”

  I shot him my fiercest look. “Just because I don’t like snakes, it doesn’t mean I’m susceptible to feminine fits of vapors or anything of the sort.”

  “Big-city yuppies!” He burst into laughter once again. “What are we going to do with you?”

  “Who’re you calling a yuppie, Mister Philadelphia-born-and-bred?”

  He chuckled some more at my retort.

  When we came to a fork in the trail, he motioned to me to bear right. “Let’s go look at some pretty flowers, then. They’re nicer than snakes, I promise,” he said in mock condescension.

  We came to a stagnant pond entirely covered with lime green algae—and masses of white water lilies. Tiny tadpoles wriggled just under the pond’s surface, creating small ripples in the murky, green-brown water. Flying insects hovered around the lilies and landed on the water’s surface every now and then, making the slime jiggle.

  It was so utterly peaceful, I couldn’t imagine that people lived and worked only a few miles from here, that New Jersey’s busy highways weren’t all that far. Again, I stood in mute wonder for several minutes and took in the scene.

  “The lilies are gorgeous, Lou,” I said.

  Large arms crossed over his middle, Lou rocked on his feet. “Now do you see how lovely all this is? Why nature lovers don’t want people like your client to ruin it by building homes?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Is that why you insisted on bringing me here? You could have talked about this and I would have understood just as well. I’ve gone camping once or twice in my childhood, you know. We could’ve easily skipped the ecology lesson.”

  “Skip the hike and miss seeing the look of panic on your face earlier? Nah.” He grinned. “I wish I had my camera with me. The brave New York lawyer isn’t afraid of muggers and murderers and mean old district attorneys, but she fears a harmless little snake.”

  “Just out of curiosity, where are these famous snake nests? Did we pass any so far?”

  Lou shook his head. “They’re deep in the interior. The hiking trails have too many humans so the snakes tend to keep as far away as possible. It’s basic survival instinct—they’re just as afraid of us.” He checked the time on his watch. “You ready to head back to the office?”

  “Oh yes!” My thighs had been complaining for a while. We’d been walking for well over an hour, but I’d actually enjoyed the outing. As we retraced our steps, I noticed the deer had disappeared.

  Lou pointed out a few birds’ nests in the trees and told me how to distinguish between the d
ifferent kinds. He showed me a variety of wildflowers whose botanical names sounded more like exotic diseases.

  At one point, Lou took my hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. Something like an electric current shot right though me. He must have felt the same thing, because he gave me a strange look, blinked, and dropped my hand. “Better get back to the office and I’ll tell you what I’ve got,” he said.

  Just like that the camaraderie between us had vanished. Something strange had touched us both. I for one couldn’t explain it. It was almost a sexual awareness. My pulse was racing and my hands were shaking. The sensation diminished by the time we returned to Lou’s office.

  Whatever it was, it had to have been some freak sensation caused by the dark atmosphere of the woods and my fear of it. I was certain that hunger had something to do with it, too. I told myself I’d be fine after eating a decent lunch, then followed Lou into his office.

  Lou had worked out a fair enough deal for my client. Instead of twenty-two homes in the development proposed by Solstice, the DEP and the Pinelands Commission wanted it pared down to fifteen, with larger lots. Also, there was a lot of fine print in Lou’s proposal. I’d have to go back to my office and read it carefully.

  He had talked the authorities into reducing the atrocious development fees by nearly sixty percent. I was happy with Lou’s efforts and I hoped my client would be, too.

  “Thank you, Lou. That was a fine job you did of convincing your bosses. I couldn’t be more pleased.” I beamed at him and tucked the papers in my briefcase.

  “Tell me the truth, Soorya. If I hadn’t taken you out along that beautiful hiking trail, would you have accepted the compromise that easily?”

  I gave it some thought. “Probably not,” I admitted grudgingly. I would have argued for more leeway. “I’m glad you showed me around. Of course, I have to present this to my client and see how they feel about it. Unlike me, they’re hardened businessmen and can’t be swayed by a herd of deer and a pond with tadpoles and water lilies.”