Lakeside

by Davis, Mary

  He walked up the wooden logs set into the ground as steps along the side of the cottage and knocked on the door. His ire melted away when Lorelei answered the door with a smile.

  “Would you like to come in?”

  “Yes, I would, but I can’t. I’m looking for Gretchen. Have you heard from her?”

  “You’ve come to the right place.” She motioned him in.

  Gretchen was surprised to see him but put on a sweet smile and said innocently, “Bash. We were just about to head into town and get a burger and maybe catch a movie.”

  And you were hoping to escape before I got here. For a moment he thought about taking up the offer and not making a fuss. He wouldn’t mind spending time with Lorelei. Instead he looked back at Gretchen just as innocently. “Can’t. We have a family emergency.”

  “It can wait until later. I’m hungry.”

  “No, it can’t. Mom’s sick.”

  “What?” She stood.

  Garth apologized to Lorelei for both of them, and they left.

  “Mom’s sick? What’s wrong?” Gretchen asked as they headed down toward the beach.

  “She’s sick with worry over her missing youngest daughter.” His tone was curt.

  “Garth!” She swatted at his arm. “You had me worried. I thought something was wrong.”

  “There is something wrong. Mom is worried sick about you, and you don’t seem to care.”

  She dropped her head and said softly, “It’s not that I don’t care. I’m just not ready to talk to them yet. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell them the truth.”

  “Garth, would you call and tell them I’m here and I’ll call next week?”

  “No. This is your mess; you have to own up to it. Right now Mom will be happy just to know you are all right. You were supposed to call on Saturday before coming over to the Davenports’.”

  “I did.”

  He gave her a sideways glance. She obviously hadn’t told them anything significant.

  The phone was ringing when they entered. “That’s probably for you,” Garth said, but Gretchen moved away from the ringing phone. He stared after her as the machine picked up, and soon his mother’s distressed voice cut through the air.

  He grabbed the phone and heard his mother let out a big sigh when he answered. She was glad she was finally speaking to a person. She poured out her concerns and how she was unable to reach Gretchen. “Her roommate says all her things are gone, and she hasn’t seen her since Thursday. You don’t think she moved in with that boyfriend of hers? She can be so unpredictable.”

  “Yes, Mom, she can be very unpredictable.” He glared at his baby sister. “But, no, I don’t think she would move in with Lonny. She wouldn’t do that.” I hope.

  Gretchen’s mouth dropped open in shock. He was glad to see the thought bothered her. He crooked his finger at her to come over to the phone. She shook her head.

  “I didn’t think so, but you know how she can be, so flighty and erratic. The most worrisome to me of all you children. I didn’t feel old until she grew up. Where could she be? You haven’t heard from her, have you?”

  “As a matter of fact, Mom, I have.”

  “Oh, thank the Lord! Where is she? Is she there? Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine, Mom. She’s right here.”

  “May I talk to her?”

  The relief in his mother’s voice tore at him. “Of course you can.” He held out the phone to his reluctant sister. She stared at it but didn’t move. He set it down on the counter and walked out. She would have to deal with it now. But where would he go?

  His first inclination was Lorelei’s. What excuse could he give for returning? Gretchen had promised to go to dinner with her. Maybe she would settle for him? But if his offer sounded too much like a date, she would likely turn him down as she had before. If he made it sound casual, as if she would be doing him a favor, she might concede. By the time he reached her door he’d figured out how to ask—or rather suggest.

  “Is your mom okay?” she asked.

  “She’ll be fine now that she can talk to Gretchen.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Would you like me to have dinner with you?”

  Her eyebrows shot up.

  “I mean, I’ll take you to dinner. . . .” Why was it so difficult to think straight around her?

  “What about Gretchen?”

  “She can’t make it. She’ll be on the phone for a while. I’ll bring her back something, and I know you haven’t eaten.” That wasn’t how he’d wanted to say it, so now she would politely turn him down.

  “Gretchen and I had a hankering for a thick, juicy burger with greasy fries and a fat-filled milkshake,” she said lightly with a smile. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

  “I live for cholesterol.”

  “You are not exactly dressed for a burger joint.”

  Was she trying to dissuade him from going? If she were willing to go out with him for whatever reason, he wouldn’t pass it up. “I can change. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turned to leave.

  “Oh, and I was planning to drive,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “my car.”

  “Oh.” He looked at her then cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back.” She was trying to get rid of him, but even being seen in her purple car couldn’t discourage him from being with her.

  When he arrived at his place, Gretchen was still on the phone, making plans to head down to their parents’ house the next day. After changing, he motioned to her he was going out. She nodded and waved him on.

  “I’ll bring you back something,” he whispered.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  He sensed she was thanking him for more than food. He closed the door behind him and headed back to Lorelei’s.

  ❧

  Lori mentally patted herself on the back for her self-control. She had kept a straight face as she told Garth they would be using her car, her very purple car. His shocked look was precious. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings by insulting her car, but she looked forward to seeing this handsome, rugged man cowering in it. Though purple was a vogue color, not everyone liked it. He was so much like Doug.

  She burst out laughing when she saw his SUV come down her drive. He was trying to get out of riding in her car, but she wouldn’t let him off the hook so easily. She curbed her laughter and put on what she hoped was a casual look.

  When they walked out to his truck, she feigned surprise. “Aren’t we taking my car?”

  “I thought I’d drive since I know my way around better.”

  That was smooth. “Don’t you trust my driving?”

  “I’m sure you’re a fine driver. It’s just that. . .” His words trailed off as she looked up at him innocently. He took her hand and placed his keys in it. “Here—you can drive.”

  It proved he trusted her to drive, but it wasn’t the reason he didn’t want to take her car. “If I’m going to drive, I’d be more comfortable driving my car.”

  He started to speak several times but didn’t. He couldn’t admit it.

  “I understand.” She smiled. “Really, I do. It’s a macho guy thing, right? No self-respecting guy would be caught dead in a car that looks like an overgrown grape.”

  “Something like that.” He let out a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. You only had to say you didn’t want to ride in a ridiculous purple car. Besides, I’m a terrible driver. I was going to let Gretchen drive.” She tossed his keys in the air and walked around the truck. She heard him catch them, and suddenly he was by her side, opening her door.

  “You were going to ask me to drive all along, weren’t you?”

  She answered with a smile. Garth was as careful a driver as Doug had been, and she felt comfortable with him behind the wheel.

  What she’d wanted to know was how badly he wanted to go with her. She was pleasantly surprised he hadn’t called to back out completely. She had given him plenty of opportunities. Why did
she care anyway if he wanted to go with her? It shouldn’t matter, but it did. Nothing could come of a relationship between them; she would make sure of that and keep him at arm’s length.

  Seven

  Lori looked into Garth’s critical face. She had awakened early, anxious for today, and taken extra care with her clothes and her appearance. She had debated over what to wear and changed three times. She finally decided on her long denim skirt, a short-sleeved white blouse, and a tapestry vest with a pair of comfortable flats. Nice but not overdone. She had even found many things for which to praise God.

  But now her emotions belly flopped onto the floor at Garth’s disapproving look. Why did she care what he thought? It wasn’t as if they were anything more than friends.

  “You’re going to want to dress warmer.” He eyed her up and down. “Not that you don’t look great, but the island can be chilly this time of year. Jeans and a sweater would be better.”

  He leaned on the front doorframe while she retreated into her bedroom to change. She shed her well-chosen clothes and slipped on a pair of jeans and a thin, white cotton sweater with her vest over it, then wriggled her feet into a pair of white canvas sneakers.

  She stood before him for his approval but found him less than impressed. “You have nothing warmer, a heavier coat, perhaps?”

  “No.” She was surprised at the hurt from his rejection. “It doesn’t get that cold in Florida.”

  “This is Michigan, the cold North, not tropical Florida.”

  “You’re wearing a short-sleeved shirt.” He had on jeans and a blue-and-green-striped golf shirt that complemented his eyes, along with tennis shoes.

  “I have a sweatshirt and coat in my truck.”

  “If you think it’s going to be that cold, maybe I shouldn’t go.” She was beginning to doubt the wisdom of going at all. This was stepping over the line. No, her heart was dragging her over the line to someplace she knew she shouldn’t go.

  “Come on. I have an idea. You’ll be fine.” He ushered her out before she could retreat.

  They drove over to his place, and she waited while he ran inside. He climbed back in and placed two sweaters and a sweatshirt on her lap.

  “Pick whichever one you want.” He headed back up the drive.

  “Thank you.” She decided on the heather gray sweatshirt with the college insignia on it. As she put the sweaters in the back, she noticed a lopsided grin pull at Garth’s mouth at her choice.

  People would think she had gone to college. They would never guess only two years ago she had gotten her GED. There had been no time for an education, not that she really cared. It was Doug who had forced her to get her GED and learn to drive. That was when she started to heal mentally, getting back some of what the accident had robbed from her. She could never get it all back, but she had stopped being the victim, most of the time.

  His deep voice pulled her back to the present.

  “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I was wondering what you do that allows you so much time off to stay up here?”

  She found it hard to comprehend when he smiled at her that way. “Do?”

  “Yes, your job.” His gaze darted in her direction.

  “Job?”

  “I thought maybe you did some sort of freelance work.” He glanced at her again. “You sit out at the picnic table writing.”

  “You’ve seen me?”

  “Journalist, perhaps?” He looked at her again.

  She wished he would stop doing that and keep his eyes on the road. “No, not me.”

  “A poet.”

  Seen me? He watched her? The thought of someone watching her should bother her, but it didn’t. “Unfortunately I don’t have to work.”

  “Unfortunately? Independently wealthy doesn’t sound too bad.”

  It did to her. “I was awarded a large settlement for my ‘pain and suffering.’ The boy who plowed into us was drunk or high on something and from a very wealthy family. The money could never replace having my life destroyed and my future ripped away.” She turned away from him. Why had she blurted all that out?

  He touched her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. It’s all right.” She pushed the old hurts back. She wouldn’t allow them to spoil today. She lived far too much in the past but couldn’t help herself. The Lord had been good to bring her back to Michigan, and she would focus on that.

  When they reached Mackinaw City, Garth parked in one of the ferry lots. “Don’t forget this.” He handed her the sweatshirt she had laid on the seat beside her.

  She stepped out of the truck, and goose bumps immediately rose on her arms from the chilly breeze. She slipped the sweatshirt over her head. Garth, too, had put on his sweatshirt but stuffed his coat in his knapsack. His sweatshirt was identical to hers. She debated whether or not to use one of the sweaters instead, but it was too late. He had locked the truck. She pretended not to notice but was sure he knew they matched.

  She and Garth sat on the first level with a handful of other passengers for the sixteen-minute hydroplane ferry ride over to Mackinac Island. The island was breathtaking, all decked out in an array of autumn colors with the white Grand Hotel stretched against the golds, oranges, and reds.

  Lori stepped off the ferry and into another century. Up ahead, where the dock met land, stood a coach with a matching pair of chestnut brown horses. On its maroon, hard-shell side were the words The Grand Hotel. Beside that coach was another quite different carriage, red and yellow with plastic sides rolled up to the soft roof. Taxi. A pair of dapple gray horses stood hitched to it. The drivers of both sat patiently in their seats and smiled at her as she and Garth passed them.

  Garth guided her up the short incline to the main street. “There’s a bike shop over here.”

  She looked up one end of the street and then the other. Quaint shops lined both sides, each one unique—some wood, some brick, each a different height and style. “I want to go in every shop.”

  “Then we should forgo biking around the island, taking the carriage tour, or visiting the fort, the Grand Hotel, and the Butterfly House.”

  She turned to him quickly. “I want to do all those, too.”

  He chuckled. “You can’t. My mom and sisters determined on one trip to go in every single shop and couldn’t do it. They got through about half and felt rushed. There are shops on the side streets and the streets above.”

  She sighed in defeat.

  “I suggest we do the sightseeing things this morning—biking around the island and taking the carriage tour. Those will give you the broadest perspective of the island. And then one other—”

  “The butterflies.”

  He nodded. “The butterflies it is. Then after lunch, if you’ll trust me to pick out a few good shops my mom and sisters like, we’ll hit as many as possible.”

  Her eyes rounded. “There’s so much to see and do here.”

  His mouth pulled up on one side. “I’ll just have to bring you back more than once.”

  Her insides fluttered at his earnestness.

  Garth guided her to a nearby bike shop where he rented a tandem bicycle to pedal the eight miles around the island.

  “You drive.” He motioned for her to get on the front of the two-seat bike.

  She hesitated. “I don’t know where to go.”

  “See this street? Go that way”—he pointed in one direction down the road then back the other direction—“until you come around there.”

  That seemed pretty easy, a circle.

  “And if you’re nice, I’ll do all the pedaling up the hill.”

  “And what if I get us lost?”

  “I think that’s physically impossible. Even Gretchen couldn’t get lost.”

  The road ran along the beach a few yards from the water. After several minutes they paused to gaze out at the glistening blue green water. A short way up the road Garth stopped so they could look at Arch Rock, more than a hundred feet above the water. She could see right through
to the sky that had become stormy. Wind and water had eroded the soft rock below, leaving the hard breccia rock to form an arch. She guessed it was even more enchanting with the golds and reds of the foliage and the occasional leaf drifting down.

  “Legend says a beautiful Indian maiden called Ne-Daw-Mist met a handsome brave of the sky spirits,” Garth said in an ethereal tone. “They fell in love but were forbidden to marry by her cruel father. He beat her and tied her to a high rock. She wept for her love. Her tears flowing down washed away the rock, leaving only the arch. Her brave returned and took her away to his home with the sky people.”

  Lori stared at the rock formation, picturing the beautiful maiden and the brave who rescued her.

  “Turn around.”

  She turned at his bidding.

  He held a digital camera. “Smile.”

  “I don’t want my picture taken.” But a smile came anyway.

  “Too late.” He pressed something on the back of the camera. “You want to see?”

  She didn’t like pictures of herself; all she could see were the hidden scars and pain of the past decade. “No, thanks.” She walked to the bicycle and waited for him.

  “You aren’t mad at me?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t like to see pictures of myself.”

  “You look pretty.”

  She gave him a withering glance. “That’s what you want to see.” She could see the other 999 words the picture would paint. She pulled the sleeves of the too-big sweatshirt down over her hands and climbed on the front of the bike.

  Their next stop was the British landing where Captain Charles Roberts came at night and successfully took Fort Mackinac by surrender. Garth snapped another picture while she read the marker describing the event. They paused again on the west shore to look across the water at the five-mile Mackinac Bridge connecting the two Michigan peninsulas, spanning from Mackinaw City to St. Ignace.

  “Can we go across the bridge to St. Ignace?” Lori asked.

  Garth was fiddling with his camera again. “Not this trip. There won’t be time.” He smiled at her. “But we can come back.”

  “Did you take another picture of me?”