When I pulled up to the cottage I was pleasantly surprised; it was so Sylvia. The one-story stone cottage was nestled under a large willow, its branches hanging almost to the roof as if protecting the cottage and its contents from the outside world. The only close neighbor was a cottage to the right. It was also one level, but this one had white siding and a wraparound porch. There were no cars in the driveway, which hopefully meant it was just used for the summer. I could use some privacy for a few months until I got settled into my new life.
I parked in the driveway next to the side door. Getting out of the car, I let myself in. Inside was just as cozy as the outside. It was one big large room, only a counter island separating the kitchen and living room. The kitchen must have been renovated recently. The appliances and cherry cabinets were still shining and I couldn’t see any scratches on the marble counter tops. The living room was situated around a stone fireplace, with a comfy-looking gray sofa with matching chairs. A charming woven rug lay in the center on the wood floor. There were three bedrooms and a small bathroom. I was so grateful to Sylvia for lending me her cottage. I only wished there was a way I could thank her, but I knew contacting her would be a mistake.
The only thing in the cottage that wasn’t perfect was the smell. It must have been closed up for a while, because it stunk terribly of must. As I wandered through each room opening windows, reality set in, I was FREE! With a new hope for my future I went out to the car to get my belongings and unpack.
A few hours later I was setting up my office in one of the spare rooms. There was a desk under the window that I placed my new laptop on. I had purchased it a few weeks ago and hid it in my car. The breeze blew in through the open window, along with the sound of the waves washing up against the shore. The view was beautiful; from this angle I could see the dock, the water, and a cottage across the lake. I could picture myself sitting here writing and looking out the window. I hadn’t written in months, but I already felt inspired.
When everything was unpacked and it felt like home, I realized it was past dinner, and I was starving. This was the perfect time to check out the grocery store.
The store was called Butler Foods. It was small, not nearly as big as I was used to, but that didn’t matter. I’d be buying mostly packaged food anyway, since it’s not like I cooked. I took my time wandering around the store, enjoying the small-town feel. I noticed that the people here seemed to visit with each other more than actually shopping.
I was standing in the produce department picking up some grapes when I overheard a conversation coming from beside me. Two women stood near the strawberries. “Well, I heard he went to his ex’s wedding. Can you believe that?” She had short brown hair and was wearing jeans and a cute suede jacket.
The other woman’s platinum hair was teased a little too high to be fashionable. She leaned in closer to her friend as if she had a secret. “Well, I don’t know why he doesn’t move on already. There are plenty of girls around here that would take him in an instant, myself included.” I felt like I was intruding in on the conversation so I moved over to the lettuce, hoping that I could still hear but not look obvious doing it. I wasn’t used to small towns and wanted to learn as much as I could.
“Ignore those gossip mongers, not everyone in town is like that.”
The voice came from behind me. I turned around to see a woman with flaming red hair that fell to her shoulders, green eyes, and a warm smile. Her cart was heaping with juice boxes, snack cakes, and cookies. She must have kids waiting at home.
I glanced around, making sure she was actually speaking to me. No one was there. “Like what?” I asked.
She reached beside me and picked up a cucumber. “Busybodies. Of course there are a few, but most of us mind our own. Are you visiting someone or are you new in town?”
I moved to the side to get out of her way. “Oh, I’m renting a cottage for a few months, to see if I like it, then I may make my stay permanent. I’m looking to relocate.”
She leaned against the potato display. “Oh yeah? From where?”
The girls that I had been listening to started toward us. The blond girl scowled at my companion as they walked passed us. “Chicago,” I lied.
“Wow, this is sure a change. Where are you staying?” She noticed the girl and smiled mischievously. And when the girls were gone, and we could only see their backs, she stuck her tongue at the blond. It was obvious that there was no love between the two.
I raised a brow at her in question, but she didn’t acknowledge what had just happened. “Twenty twelve Bayview Road,” I answered, not sure what to say.
With the girls forgotten, she leaned forward on her cart. “The one on the corner, beside the white house?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Sylvia Newman’s cottage, do you know her?”
“No. I found her on the Internet, she rented me the cottage.” I was making it up as I went. I hadn’t planned what to say, but I knew it was best not to tie myself to Sylvia. I wanted to keep her safe so distancing me from her felt like the best way.
She glanced at her watch. “Well, I should be getting home. The name’s Kathy by the way.”
“Ab-Anna. Nice to meet you.” I reached out to shake her hand.
She raised her brow suspiciously. “Abanna?”
I took a deep breath. “It’s Anna.” She must know I was lying. I wasn’t good at it and I was sure she was about to call me on it.
To my surprise, she grinned, lighting her already bright green eyes. “It’s very nice to meet you, Anna. We don’t get many new faces around here.” She waved as she pushed her cart up to the cashier. “See you around,” she called over her shoulder.
Back at the cottage I made myself a grilled cheese and a tossed salad. I spent the night looking at the photos on the wall. They were of Sylvia and her husband when they were younger. There were pictures of what looked like them building the cottage. Then later with their four children and so many grandchildren I couldn’t count, although I thought I remembered that she once told me she had fourteen.
The air was a little chilly so I stayed inside with a glass of wine gazing out at the view from the large bay window. A part of me felt relaxed, and I was thankful for it, but there was some anxiety deep inside, thinking about Nick getting off work and going home to find me gone. Would I be awoken in the night with him standing over me? I knew this feeling was ridiculous. I had covered my tracks well, but I couldn’t quiet the feeling of fear that my newfound freedom was at risk.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Neighbor
During my first week, I stayed close to home. I was enjoying my freedom, but I couldn’t help take precautions around the cottage. Nick was forever in the back of my mind, a constant reminder that I was never safe. Once the musty air was gone, I closed and locked the windows and doors. And if I went outside, lounging in the yard, I found myself glancing around, making sure I was truly alone.
Despite my paranoia, I tried to be happy in my new life. I explored the cottage and on warm days I ventured outside. On the second day in my new home, I actually barbequed a chicken. Living in an apartment in the city, barbequing was practically unheard of. And despite my lack of experience, I didn’t do too bad of a job. The skin was a little burnt, but the meat inside was juicy and tender.
One morning, I found myself wandering down the shoreline, looking at all the houses that lined the lake. I carried my sandals and walked barefoot, letting the warm sand sift through my toes. I counted five empty cottages, besides the white one next to mine.
It wasn’t until I walked about a mile and a half that I saw any signs of life on this side of the lake. A large house sat up on a hill. The sounds of a child’s laughter and a dog barking floated out of the windows and down to the beach to where I stood. My heart ached. The sounds reminded me of what I had left behind and I almost kept moving toward it, but I turned around and started back instead, not ready to introduce myself. I wanted to keep a distance from the town
sfolk, just in case Nick found me. I couldn’t help the feeling that anyone I had contact with was also in danger.
It wasn’t until my fifth day that I started to relax. If he hadn’t found me yet, odds were, I was safe—for now. I couldn’t fool myself and think that he would give up looking, but I knew I had to loosen up and try to get back some of my life, and that meant I needed to start working again. I had put it off for so long, I thought it would be difficult to get back into the flow of writing. But as soon as I opened the file to Sammy’s Big Adventure, I was sucked back in. I sat in front of the open window with the breeze gently blowing in. I could feel the fresh air on my cheeks as the words poured out. I was there for three straight hours before I took a break to eat. And when I stopped for the day, I couldn’t wait to start again tomorrow.
Saturday evening, exactly a week after I arrived, I was restless and bored. I tried to write, but nothing would come out. Watching TV wasn’t working, and the book I was reading did not hold my interest. I read the same sentence three times before I put it down and went outside.
I strolled down to the dock and stood quietly watching the lake. It was so peaceful. I became mesmerized by the glowing orange reflection the sun cast upon the water as it set for the day. My chest ached at the thought of another day without my family, I hadn’t seen them in a week and I felt so lonely. Would Justin look different the next time I saw him? Would he have grown, would I recognize him? Would I miss Haley’s first day of school? Not that I saw my family that often when I lived near them, but the option was there. I hated Nick even more for taking them away from me.
I sat down so I could listen to the noises of the lake. It was so quiet here. The bubbling sounds the fish made when they came to the surface to eat the bugs floating on the water echoed through the quiet. I heard faint laughter from a cottage in the distance as people went for an evening swim. The weather had been warm the last few days, but I didn’t think it was sufficient enough to heat the water for a swim. The hum of a motorboat was the latest sound I heard. I could just make out a white fisherman’s hat in a boat across the lake.
The wooden planks of the dock below me were not the most comfortable place to sit, but since it was my only option, I made do. I made a mental note to make a trip to the hardware store to buy a lawn chair so I could sit out here every night and enjoy the view and listen to the sounds. It was so calming. I realized that I was no longer restless.
I kicked off my sandals, tossing them beside me, and dipped my feet into the water. Ahh…it was warmer than I thought it would be. For a second I was tempted to go skinny-dipping, something that in my twenty-eight years I had never done. It was such a beautiful and peaceful night I almost gave in, but I didn’t let myself get carried away. This was me, the girl that wore a towel around her apartment, even when I lived alone.
A noise brought my attention back from my daydream to a fish jumping. I watched the water ripple as the breeze blew a lock of hair into my eyes. I pushed it away and leaned back on the dock, gazing up at the sky. Twilight was just settling in and the horizon was turning a pinkish-purple color. The air smelled crisp with water, only the hint of grass mixed in. I had never seen such a beautiful scene in my life. To watch this every night before I went to bed was a blessing I never expected. I wished I could share it with my family. But knowing they were safe, and that I was safe, made solitude bearable.
My body went rigid at the sound of light footsteps on the grass behind me. My first thought was that he had found me. I knew this day would come sooner or later, although I had hoped for later. But he was a fool if he thought I would go easily. I stood up, slipped my shoes back on, but didn’t turn around. It might have been the fear that gave me the courage, but I had a plan, and I needed him closer. My heart raced as I waited.
The footsteps grew louder as he walked onto the dock. When I was sure he was close enough, I swung around and punched him as hard as I could in the face. I felt my knuckles dig into his stubbled chin. When I pulled my stinging fist back, I took off toward the house before he could grab me. This wasn’t over. I had a taste of freedom, and I wasn’t giving in.
“What the hell was that for? Where are you going, are you crazy?” The deep voice behind me wasn’t Nick’s, but that didn’t mean anything, he could have sent someone after me.
I was almost to the cottage, about to get the spare car keys out of the barbeque, when I noticed a light from the corner of my eye. I spun in the direction of my neighbor’s house. The lights were on, and there was a yellow Jeep in the driveway. Oh shit, I just coldcocked my neighbor. That’s a good way to get to know them.
I slowly turned toward the lake and saw a tall man with thick, wavy, blond hair walking toward me, rubbing his jaw. “I am so sorry, I thought you were someone else,” I stammered, cradling my now sore hand and making no move toward him. I couldn’t help the feeling that I was still in danger and resisted the urge to look around, making sure that we were alone. It was only a few minutes ago that I was sure Nick had found me, and now that I realized my mistake it was hard to force down the fear. Although embarrassment was slowly taking over. I had just punched a stranger. I had never struck another human being in my life—well, besides my sister, but we were kids, that was different. My throbbing knuckles only added to the humiliation.
When the man stood a few feet in front of me, he stopped, his lips turning up at the edges, making his blue eyes sparkle. He looked me over and his smile widened. “That’s one hell of a right hook you got there, lady.”
“I said I was sorry, you shouldn’t have snuck up on me.” I was starting to feel uneasy, alone with a man in a deserted area. I fought the urge to step back.
His eyes widened, the smile fading. “Snuck up?” He gestured toward the dock where I had been sitting. “I yelled hello when I got out of my car, then I yelled again as I was walking toward you.”
“You did? I was so mesmerized by the evening I guess I didn’t hear you. I’m sorry,” I repeated dumbly. My cheeks heated. It was bad enough that I had just punched him, now I kept apologizing and babbling like an idiot.
He made no move, just stood looking at me curiously, his eyes alight with amusement. “Who are you anyway, and what are you doing in my grandmother’s cottage?”
“Your grandmother?” I gasped, vaguely remembering her mentioning a grandson. “Are you Sylvia Newman’s grandson?”
“Yes, I bought my house from her five years ago. She owns this one.” He gestured to my cottage. “And several down the way.” He pointed to the right of his house. He must be referring to the empty cottages I had seen on my walk down the beach. “The others are rentals, but she keeps this one for friends and family. She must think very highly of you to let you stay here. This cottage is her favorite; it’s where she and my grandfather first lived after they married.”
That made what she had done for me matter so much more. How I would ever thank her? “I didn’t think anyone lived there,” I said, nodding towards his house, trying to avoid his question. “I’ve been here a week and never saw anyone.”
“I just got back from a wedding in Philadelphia. Didn’t my grandmother tell you I lived next door?”
How was I supposed to tell him we hadn’t even spoken of the house I was staying in, let alone the neighbors? “No, she never mentioned you.” I didn’t like the direction our conversation was headed. There were too many things I didn’t want anyone to know.
“That’s strange; my mother didn’t tell me you were coming. It’s my job to take care of the renters. And as far as I know, we don’t have anyone scheduled for another month.” He paused, folding his arms in front of him as he narrowed his eyes. “I find it odd that you’re staying in her favorite house, one that’s reserved for family and friends, and no one told me about it. How do you know my grandmother anyway?”
My mind went blank. His questions were making me uneasy. I couldn’t tell him that we met on the Internet, like I had Kathy. After he explained how Sylvia felt about the cottage,
he would never believe that she rented it to me over an email. All I knew was that I needed to get away from him. He asked too many questions and he was a man, and after the last few months they couldn’t be trusted. “My personal life does not concern you. And I would appreciate it if you would mind your own business.” Since I couldn’t think of anything else to say to get rid of him, I stormed into the cottage.
Once inside, I ran to the window to make sure he left. He stood where I had left him, looking dazed. He took a few steps toward my door, hesitated, then turned around and went into his house.
I was relieved for now. I needed to think better on my feet. When he asked me questions I didn’t want to answer, I should have thought of a lie instead of telling him to mind his own business. That would only pique his curiosity. I couldn’t tell him who I was, but now I was worried that he would call his mother and ask about who was staying at her cottage. That might make her go to her Sylvia’s, and Nick would overhear. I didn’t know what to do.
I wandered around the cottage, double-checking the locks. There was a strange man right next door, and the trickle of fear that ran up my spine told me that my newly found freedom was over. I couldn’t help but worry over this new development, but since there was nothing I could do to change it, I grabbed a bottle of wine with my good hand and turned on some music. Then I sat on the window seat in front of the large bay window, looking out over the water. After a few glasses, I undressed and had a shower. The hot water spraying over me seeped into my skin and helped me relax. Was this ever going to get easier? If it wasn’t the constant worry that Nick would somehow find me, it was my newfound fear of all things male. Not to mention the fact that this new male was filled with questions I couldn’t answer.
Finding Abigail Page 15