Cabin by the Lake

by Desiree Douglas

  Nope, she would just wait. She’d make sure the house was always locked up, and start carrying her phone with her. She would be extra vigilant until she figured out what to do. They’d talk to the sheriff and maybe he would just catch Rocco loitering around somewhere and she wouldn’t have to be linked to him.

  The last thing that she wanted to happen was for Mike to find out about her past. She at least wanted to remain a warm memory in his mind when he was gone. She felt sick that, if this came to light, he would remember her as the ex-con whom he’d kissed that one spring night and, lucky for him, he’d escaped her evil clutches unscathed.

  “That should do it,” said Dugger when they returned. He handed Vivian the key. “I put in a call to Sam Jenkins. He’s coming by so you can file a report, Vi.”

  “Thank you, Dugger,” she said gratefully.

  “Sam was a few years behind us in school,” he said. “You remember him?”

  “Vaguely; I did hear he was elected sheriff.”

  “Sam’s a good man.” He gave Mike and Lydia a reassuring wink. “He’ll take care of this.”

  Lydia gave Dog another bite of steak, which he swallowed whole, and looked expectantly for another, his tail wagging back and forth. “I think you’ve had enough,” she said, patting his head. “Let’s pick up a flea collar tomorrow. It looks like he’s going to stick around for a while.”

  “You’re going down to the salvage yard tomorrow?” Dugger asked. “What all are you looking for?”

  Mike spread his hands. “A little bit of everything. Sinks, faucets, a new toilet. I don’t really know what we’ll find. We’ll see what’s available when we get there.”

  “If you need a truck to haul it back, I’ll be glad to help,” Dugger said, pointing to his pickup. “Here’s my number in case you need me.” He and Mike exchanged phone numbers just as Sheriff Jenkins showed up.

  They showed him the note, and the men left to inspect the garage, while Vivian and Lydia began to clean up the remains of the cookout.

  “Dugger’s nice,” said Lydia. “I like him.”

  “Yeah, he’s always been a charmer. Oh, and before I forget, remind me to give you some money for the stuff tomorrow.”

  “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll just get what we need and we can settle up later.”

  “But you’ve already paid me for your rent,” Vivian argued. “And thank you, by the way, I appreciate that. But you shouldn’t be out any money for this project.”

  Lydia waved away her protests as she stacked the dirty dishes on the lower shelf of the cart. “It’ll all come out in the wash,” she said, thinking that Vivian would never know how much she was spending, because now she had money to spend. And this fire of renovation that had been ignited was making that money burn a hole in her pocket. She’d see to it that her aunt came out smelling like a rose on the cabin reno. Vivian deserved it.

  It was dark by the time Sheriff Jenkins left, with a promise to Vivian that he would have a cruiser drive by the house periodically and keep an eye on things.

  Dugger and Vivian sat on the back porch in the rockers and watched the younger couple walk down to the end of the pier, Mike with his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets and Lydia with her arms wrapped around her waist. When the two sat down, Vivian wished she had her camera. The moon was rising straight across the lake, just between their heads, and she thought it looked postcard pretty.

  “What I wouldn’t give to be that young again,” said Dugger.

  “Not me. Being young, not knowing what the future holds, I’m glad that’s over.”

  “But you still don’t know what the future holds, Vi,” he argued.

  “That’s true, but things are not as anxiety-ridden now as they were then. I’ve learned over the years to relax, because most everything works itself out. You don’t know that when you’re young. I was afraid of everything back then.”

  Dugger reached over and took Vivian’s hand. “Did you know, Vi, that you were my first love?”

  “What? No!” she said, slapping his hand away.

  “It’s true,” he insisted. “The night of the winter dance, you remember that?”

  She nodded, memories of that magical night, dancing in Todd’s arms, came tumbling in. “There were tiny little lights strung all around the gym and it was the most romantic evening I’d ever seen.”

  “Not for me,” Dugger snorted. “I was ready to make my move on you when Todd beat me to it. They’d just started playing ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations—I’ll never forget it—and Todd walks up, sweeps you into his arms right before my very eyes, and next thing I know, you’re Todd’s girl.”

  “I guess that’s about right,” she said dreamily, her chair rocking gently. “That’s the night it happened.”

  “After that, I went out behind the gym with the Brennerman brothers and got drunk for the first time.”

  “Oh phooey, you did not! I’ve never known you to have more than a beer on occasion.”

  He laughed. “Well, I guzzled about half their flask and promptly got sick. I have to admit, I never did care much for liquor after that.”

  “See what I mean?” she said, laughing along with him. “You thought it was the end of the world that night, and then you and Carol hooked up, and lived happily ever after.”

  “You got that right,” he agreed. “That Carol was one feisty woman, and she straightened me out good. No telling where I would’ve ended up if it hadn’t been for her.”

  “Oh Dugger, you weren’t that wild. You were just, well, very lively. You have a big personality.”

  “I’ve settled down quite a bit in my old age.” He looked at the rising moon, seeing the years flowing behind him. “The four of us spent many a good time together over the years, didn’t we?”

  “Yes, we did.”

  A quiet moment passed between them. “I’d like to spend more time with you, Vi,” he finally said.

  She reached over and patted his hand. “Let’s take it slow, Dugger, okay? One day at a time.”

  He laced his fingers through hers.

  And she let him.

  “Will you go to the Spring Fling with me tomorrow night?”

  She found that she liked the feel of his hand holding hers. She’d liked it the first time he did it, when they walked around the lake. It had been a long time since anyone held her hand, and sometimes you don’t even know you’re missing something until you have it back. Just the loving touch of another human being who cares about you, an affectionate look passed between you, a compliment lightly given, were things taken too much for granted.

  “I reckon I will,” she said quietly.

  Dugger smiled, settling back comfortably, his chair rocking in synch with hers, and enjoyed the picturesque silhouette of the young couple sitting on the pier.

  Mike and Lydia had been quietly listening to the water lap against the pier. He turned to look at her. Her face was bathed in moonlight, and she looked peaceful and content. Kendall, he thought, would be bored out of her skull, just sitting quietly, watching the moon rise over the lake.

  “You’re quiet tonight.”

  “So are you.”

  “Mm,” he grunted in agreement. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Me, too. I ate too much. Aunt Vi had a nice time, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I do. Dugger seems like a good enough man.”

  “Yes, I like him.”

  Their attempt at conversation trailed off, but not in an uncomfortable way. Each was lost in their own thoughts, and neither seemed to mind the lapses of silence between them.

  “That was pretty weird about the note,” he ventured. “Do you know if Vivian has any enemies?”

  “I can’t imagine that she does.”

  “Then that leaves you, doesn’t it?” He quietly studied her profile.

  She stared straight ahead and shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s probably just a kid playing a prank.”

  They heard Dugger’s truck crank and pull out of the dri
veway, the sound growing softer as it wound its way back to the main road. The back door slammed, indicating that Vivian had gone in for the night. It was early in the year for crickets, but the frogs were out in full force, croaking loudly along the bank, calling for mates. Lights twinkled on the other side of the lake, and an occasional burst of laughter and animated voices floated across the water in that crazy way sound could travel.

  “I want you to be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and long.

  “Sounds like we might get some rain,” she said.

  “Yeah, I’d better go get everything inside at the cabin.” He stood up and stretched. “I guess you have some work to do?”

  “Oh. Yes, I was so comfortable I’d almost forgotten.”

  “I’ll come in and check the windows and doors,” he said as they walked back, their footsteps echoing on the pier. The wind picked up, blowing her hair in her face, and he wished he had the right to touch it, run his fingers through it.

  “No, you go on. I’ll make sure they’re all locked. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

  “Okay then. Goodnight.”

  “’Night.”

  He turned reluctantly toward the path and paused, watching until she was inside, the door safely closed behind her. He didn’t feel good about this. Maybe it was some kid pulling a prank, but he didn’t think so. He went back to his original thought, maybe a jealous ex-boyfriend. If she had been in an abusive relationship and had to get out, that would explain why she never seemed to talk about her past. He’d heard of guys who couldn’t seem to let go. He even knew a few.

  One night a couple of years ago a friend of his showed up on his doorstep, drunk, waving a gun around, looking for his girlfriend. “If I can’t have her, nobody can!” he’d shouted. She was a mutual acquaintance of Mike’s, and apparently his friend was checking any place his addled brain told him she might be. Mike easily disarmed him, let him pass out on his couch, and was able to talk some sense into him the next morning.

  There were more chapters to their story, but Mike had not been personally involved. It was long and drawn out and fraught with drama, but eventually it ended as well as could be hoped for, when his friend’s attention was diverted by another love interest.

  He hurried back to the cabin just as a little sprinkle began to fall, and hauled the saw horses, and everything else he’d left outside, back in the cabin. He turned out the lights and sat on the small porch for an hour, listening to the light rain as it fell steadily, hitting the tin roof with a soothing sound.

  He wondered what his father would say if he could see him now. All he could think of was his dad’s standard reply in times of trouble, which never changed despite all his success: “Better days are comin’.”

  When Mike was gone, Lydia went around the downstairs and methodically locked both doors and checked all the windows, a surprising number of which she found unlocked. Vivian was watching the evening news, and Lydia joined her on the couch, tucking her feet under an afghan. It was raining steadily now, and she felt chilled.

  The news anchor was sharing the horrifying details of a train derailment. “How can you watch this stuff every single day? It’s all so depressing.”

  “We need to keep up with what’s going on in the world.”

  She shook her head. “Not me. I’ve got enough problems of my own without hearing about everyone else’s.”

  “Sometimes the news affects us in surprising ways.” Vivian lowered her head and peered up at her niece over her reading glasses.

  Lydia felt that she was giving her a meaningful look, but the meaning escaped her. The news segment switched to the weather, and she silently agreed with the meteorologist that it was, indeed, raining.

  “I don’t mean to be nosy,” she said, “but how did it go with Dugger after we left you two alone?”

  Vivian sighed, closed the book that had been open on her lap, and grinned. “He’s still got that old charm.”

  “But you were able to resist it all those years ago,” she prodded.

  “True. But things are different now. He’s different; I’m different. And I have to say, there was never one time in all these years when he even hinted at being a flirt. He was totally devoted to Carol, and I admire that in a man.”

  Lydia smiled and lay back on the cushion, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Did he kiss you?”

  “No!” Vivian was shocked at the question. “Of course not. He was a complete gentleman.”

  “There’s nothing ungentlemanly about kissing a pretty woman.” She waggled her eyebrows up and down making Vivian laugh.

  “No, I suppose not. I don’t want to sound old-fashioned or anything, but we’re not there yet. We’re sort of hand-holding friends at the moment.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “Yes, it was sweet. What about you and Mike?”

  She shook her head. “Let it go, Aunt Vi. He’s just not interested.”

  “Have you flirted?”

  She grabbed a throw pillow and punched it, laughing. “I’ve flirted my brains out! I held his hand during a tender moment in the canoe today. I gazed so adoringly into his eyes, I’m pretty sure I made a fool out of myself. The man is in love with someone else, and I’m not even on the list of runners-up. I am so not his type; it isn’t even funny. You saw little Miss Richie-Rich Kendall Riley, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, here’s something else,” she said, leaning forward. “We were out in the canoe this afternoon and he got a call from some kid that he’s like a big brother to or something. This boy just got a last minute date to the prom that’s happening tomorrow night. Then bang, bang, bang, right in front of my eyes, Mike sets up a tux rental and limo service for this kid like it was nothing. Aunt Vi, I know he doesn’t look like it, but Mike is rich. Trust me. I don’t know what he’s doing here in our little corner of the world, but I know that he’s way out of my league.”

  “Why would you say that?” Vivian asked, her expression turning serious.

  “Why?” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “You saw how Kendall Riley looked. How can you ask that question? She had it all. And I mean all!” She cupped the air with her hands in front of her chest to drive home her point.

  Vivian gazed at her niece steadily. “Don’t sell yourself short, honey. I don’t think you even know how beautiful you are.”

  “Awww.” She gave her a sad, patronizing smile. Suddenly she thought she might shatter like a piece of glass under Vivian’s kind gaze. She hadn’t realized just how tense she’d been since the cookout. “I think I’m going to get some work done before I turn in,” she said, standing.

  “Okay, good night. I’m going to read a little longer, but I won’t be far behind you. Thanks for joining us this evening.”

  “Any time,” Lydia said over her shoulder as she climbed to the second floor. Upstairs, she went from window to window, making sure the locks were secure. Thoughts that she’d kept at bay now bombarded her brain. She paced from one end of the house to the other and back again. Think! she told herself. Then she remembered her cell phone. Where was it? She turned her bedroom upside down looking for it until she finally found it beneath the covers at the foot of her bed. Once again, the battery was dead, so she plugged it into the charger, aggravated at herself for her irresponsibility.

  It was a miracle she had been able to hold herself together when she saw that note. Maybe she’d just been in shock. Or maybe she was just a really good actress. But now it was time to face the facts: Rocco was out of jail. She’d tried to call Anne again with no success, and decided she was probably at her family home in the mountains where she didn’t get cell service.

  If Rocco was here stalking her, and she had every reason to believe that he was, maybe she should just go. By staying here, she was putting Vivian at risk. She had some money now; she could go somewhere else and start over, somewhere with absolutely no ties to anyone she loved. And
this time, no communication with anyone. At this point, she suspected that Rocco may have gotten to her ditzy ex-roommate, weaseling her phone number from Jessie.

  That’s it, she thought. Just leave. Of course, she would appear to be the screw-up her mother believed her to be, ditching a good job on a whim, but she didn’t care about that anymore. Her aunt would be safe. Mike would never have to find out about her shameful past life. She was confident he would see to it that the cabin renovations were completed and Vivian would have a steady income. She was sure that she wouldn’t even be missed.

  With that thought, she collapsed on her bed and began to cry. She pressed her fists against her temples and rocked back and forth. Why couldn’t anything ever work out for her? She clenched teeth, hot tears squeezing out of eyes that were closed tightly in pain. Frustration welled up inside until she thought she couldn’t bear it. “Dear God!” She took her pillow and threw it across the room, sobbing. “Why can’t one thing—just one little thing—ever work out for me? Am I that dadgum bad that everything I touch turns to crap?”

  She got up, turned around and sat back down. “Why? Why can’t I have a tiny, little bit of happiness?” She threw up her hands. She knew she was out of control, hysterical and dramatic, but she couldn’t seem to stop crying. “It’s not like I’ve asked for the moon. Is a respectable job too much to ask for? Is a nice place like Vi’s too good for me to call home? How long do I have to pay for being stupid? Apparently forever,” she said, breaking into crazy laughter that scared her.

  She got up and began to pace through the upstairs, shaking her hands out at her sides, breathing deeply between hitches in her chest. She felt devastated, because she suddenly realized how happy and carefree she had been. Yes, there’d been some crazy ups and downs, but she hadn’t known, until the moment she knew it was all going to go away, how content she was here. Just when she found some meaningful purpose, the excitement she felt when she was working on the cabin, it was just a tease by the Universe to let her know, once and for all, that she didn’t deserve to be happy.