by Jeff Adams
“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been looking forward to this for months.”
“Told you,” the girl next to her said. “You can always spot the newbies.”
“You’re going to have a great time,” the woman said. “I’m Melanie. These are my daughters, Angie and Cathy, and my husband, George.”
I shook hands with George and nodded at the ladies. “Jordan,” I said.
The daughters looked to be in their teens. One was busy with her phone while the other was resting against the seat back and watching the scenery pass by. They appeared to be a regular Midwestern family. I wouldn’t have been surprised to come across them in a grocery store in suburban Chicago.
“My daughters and I love the movie.” Melanie spoke with enthusiasm. “George plays golf most days, but comes to some of the fancy evening gatherings.”
“How many years have you done this?” I asked.
Melanie looked to George. “Six?”
“Sounds about right,” he said. “Your wife joining you later?”
I shook my head slowly. “I’m here solo.”
The daughter who’d been studying her phone looked up. “Gay?”
There was no malice in her voice. It was a simple question.
“Yeah,” I said with a slight laugh. “That obvious?”
“Cathy,” chastised Angie, who, I decided, must be the oldest, “That’s rude.”
“What?” Cathy laughed a little too. “How many men have we met here, traveling by themselves, who turned out not to be gay?”
“Please forgive my daughter.” Melanie looked a touch horrified by the conversation.
“It’s all right.” I was barely able to contain my amusement. “I decided immersing myself in my favorite movie was a perfect way to spend a fall weekend. My boyfriend didn’t want to come last year, and now that I’m single, I decided to treat myself.”
Truth was, just being on the carriage was already making me wish I was sharing this with someone. There was no way I was going to admit that out loud to anyone, especially strangers.
“Good for you.” Melanie nodded, allowing the awkwardness to pass.
“How’s the golf here?” I turned to George.
“It’s a good course. I usually get a couple of games in over the weekend. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like. I usually try to build a foursome to go out.”
“I might take you up on that. I’m not great, but I enjoy it.”
The carriage came to a stop at the front entrance and I was in awe once again—that was probably going to be a constant state for the weekend. The hotel was over one hundred years old and one of the most incredible buildings I’d ever seen. I’d been to other places, like Provincetown, where there were older buildings, but this was breathtaking with its enormous porch, pristine white paint, handcrafted railings and moldings, and yellow awnings over each window. There were lots of pictures pleading to be snapped.
I allowed the family to leave the carriage first, then stepped out and took a deep breath. I couldn’t get over the air—so crisp and clean. I hadn’t thought it’d get better than on the ferry, but here, there was a slight smell of flowers and horse. It was country air, and it flushed out the last part of the city from my blood. A switch had been flipped and all my cares disappeared as I took in the grandeur of the hotel—and the spot on the porch where Richard had watched Elise run back to him after she’d been forced to leave.
I was here!
“It was nice to meet you,” Melanie said.
“I’m sorry. It’s all so amazing.” I gestured at the hotel. “It was great meeting you all too.”
“We’ll see you around,” George said. “Let me know if you want in for golf. I know I’ll be going out tomorrow. Probably Saturday too, since it looks like we’re going to have great weather.”
“I’ll do that.”
I climbed the steps and moved to the railing to be out of the way. The porch was incredible because it just went on and on. Looking out over the well-manicured grounds, scenes from the movie overlaid the landscape in my mind’s eye.
I’m such a geek. I grinned as I walked inside. It might have been a good thing I was traveling solo. If I was going to get emotional and caught up in everything, it was better no one I knew saw me.
I looked around the lobby, taking in everything. I knew from my research that the lobby in the movie was downstairs, and I was going to have to check it out later. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t the movie lobby. I was freakin’ here and about to check in.
I stepped up to the desk once the clerk finished up with Melanie and George.
“Good afternoon, sir. Checking in?”
The clerk was dressed to the nines and looked to be about my age. He carried himself with a dignity that fit the surroundings.
“Yes. Jordan Monroe.”
“Welcome to the Grand Hotel.” The clerk busied himself getting things together. “We have you in three-fourteen. There’s also this packet of information from the weekend’s organizers with the schedule. They’ll be having general check-in tomorrow morning.”
He handed me the packet and a key—an actual key. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stayed somewhere with a real key. I cradled it in my hand, rubbing my thumb over it. Everything was cards and fobs these days. A real key made it seem like the past and I loved it.
“I see your luggage is arriving from the ferry, so we’ll bring that to the room as soon as it’s here. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thank you.”
He smiled. “Very good. Enjoy your stay, and if you need anything, just let us know.”
I nodded and headed off to my room. I wanted to get rid of my messenger bag and go explore. It was too nice to be indoors.
The room was nice. I went for a midlevel one because I liked more space than just a bed. This looked comfortable and would be more than sufficient for the weekend. I wasn’t sure how much I’d use the couch and chair, but it was nice to have them along with the king bed. There were modern amenities, like a wide-screen TV, albeit small, and a minibar fridge. I was tempted to store them in the closet, as Richard did in the movie, to make the room look more 1912. That seemed a little over the top, though.
I dropped my bag on the couch and went out the french doors to the balcony where there were two lounge chairs and a table. I was on the back side of the hotel, but the lake was within view, as were some well-kept residential homes. We’re talking magazine-cover quality with the landscaping and architecture. I wondered if it was as incredible to live in one of those as I thought it would be, or if it was all about the upkeep.
It’d be perfect to have a real romantic weekend here. A touch of sadness crept in, as happened every now and then since the breakup. I’d like to think I didn’t need a man, but I did want to build a life with someone.
It was time to check this place out more thoroughly so I headed for where I wanted to be—outside and the porch.
I was delighted as I looked across the lush green lawn and flowerbeds and on to the lake. I’d never been any place like this.
The breeze across the length of the porch was just right—not too gusty and not too chilly. Guests sat in the rocking chairs, enjoying the afternoon. At one end, two men played chess at an oversized board set into the porch. I headed toward the other end and the lake. When I finally got there, the view was of trees, water and the bridge I’d just gone over a few hours before.
My breath caught as I saw the most stunning man. I didn’t often see someone who was so handsome that it made me stop. In my experience those sorts of men existed only in the movies. Yet, he was just a few feet away on the other side of the flower boxes that marked the border of the porch. It was clear by the cut of his black pants and white shirt that he was sturdily built. He had close-cropped blond hair, just long enough that he could part it and lay it flat. Best of all, he sported a nicely trimmed beard. Few things caught my attention quite like a blond with a beard.
He
walked with a horse, holding its reins, while he talked with a woman who wore riding clothes. They smiled and laughed as they went, enjoying the afternoon and each other’s company. It didn’t take long for them to pass out of view. I thought about jumping over the flowers to go after him. But then what?
Hi. I like your beard.
That was probably his girlfriend anyway, or wife. Lucky her.
Besides, even if it’d just been him walking on the path, hookups weren’t my thing. Unless, of course, I could be lucky enough that he happened to be single and from Chicago and he was just friends with the woman. I sighed as I doubted fate would give me that.
Hopefully the blond man would be around for the entire weekend. I wouldn’t mind a closer view.
Chapter Three
THE HOTEL got busier as the afternoon went on. I’d considered exploring, but the porch was way too nice and perfect for people watching. So, I spent a couple of hours sitting, watching, occasionally getting caught up in the arrival of someone in costume. I wouldn’t have the guts to do that, but it was supercool seeing others doing it.
Sadly I didn’t see the blond man, but the simple afternoon was enjoyable. The chairs were ridiculously comfortable, and I was happy to let the atmosphere relax me into full vacation mode.
I didn’t feel bad about not exploring. Having read the schedule, I knew there were tours. One went around the hotel and showed specific places filming had occurred. Another went to various film locations on the island as well as some historic spots. Those would likely be far cooler than any exploring I could do on my own.
Eventually I pulled myself from the chair so I could grab a shower before dinner. I had the front door open and was about to go inside when the blond man arrived, driving a carriage. He stopped and let a couple out at the front steps.
You’d think I’d never been attracted to a man before. My palms started to sweat and I had to force my mouth closed since it hung open.
His voice was rich and deep as he offered them restaurant recommendations. I wanted a conversation with him about anything.
My mind raced to come up with somewhere I could go. Before I figured it out, I was down the stairs and standing at a respectful distance as the couple finished up their transaction. I couldn’t think. Everything was a jumble. I didn’t know the island well enough to have a destination.
“Looking for a ride?” It took me a moment to realize the blond man was talking to me. I stared for a moment. His hazel eyes sparkled in the sunlight and even his beard seemed to shimmer. He was the handsomest man I’d ever seen.
“Um, yeah,” I stammered, mouth going dry. “Um. I’ve heard there’s, well, some great fudge and I, um, wanted to get some.” I fought the urge to run into the hotel and hide. Tongue-tied was not a good first impression.
His smile was breathtaking. It was like being in the presence of a long-lost friend. My stomach somersaulted and the flutter of excitement was strong. This was what had been missing from my life with Drake. He’d stopped making me flutter.
“Best fudge in the world, if you ask me. I know just the place. Hop in.”
The canopy on this carriage was down so there was an unobstructed view of the landscape, and the driver. Wearing a sweater had been a good choice since it was a bit nippy in the late afternoon.
Since it was only me, I decided to sit behind the driver’s seat, hoping we’d talk as he took me to wherever the fudge shop was. As we departed the hotel grounds, I marveled at how easy he made it seem to guide the horses. It was only my second ride in a horse-drawn carriage, but I’d trade this over a regular taxi any day.
I angled sideways so I could see the scenery and him. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his jacket and shirt and, under the fine dusting of hairs, he was lightly tanned, proving just how much time he spent outdoors. The tan was present in his face too. I didn’t expect to see that in late October, but I guessed he worked outside enough to maintain a hint of color.
“I take it this is your first time here since you haven’t experienced the fudge,” he said.
“Just got here a few hours ago.” I watched his profile. He looked briefly my way and smiled again.
“You’re here for the Somewhere in Time event, then?”
“Yeah. Finally took the plunge.”
“You’ll have a great time. They do it up right, immersing people in the film and the island. I learn something new every year from the panel discussions. My dad was sometimes a speaker because he shot a lot of pictures during the filming.”
“That’s cool. You grew up here?”
“Except for college, I’ve lived here all my life. Don’t really want to be anywhere else.”
I relaxed as he spoke. He might be handsome, but he put me at ease. He probably dealt with people so often that it came naturally to him just like it did for me in a business setting. Except this didn’t feel like business. His ease made me want to be around him more.
“The winters don’t drive you away? Chicago’s freezing enough. I can’t imagine what it’s like up here.”
“It can get pretty intense, but it’s also beautiful. When the lake freezes over and you can go out on the ice, it’s fun. Kinda magical.”
“Really?”
He looked back at me and gave a nod of his head. “Really.”
“Amazing,” I said quietly. The idea of a lake as big as the one I’d been on earlier today freezing over was mind-blowing. I’d seen ice in Lake Michigan around Chicago, but I’m sure it wasn’t safe to walk on.
“I’m Miles, by the way.”
“Jordan. Nice to meet you.” I paused, before I decided to find out more about him. “I saw you earlier, walking along one of the hotel paths with a horse and a woman. Do you work for the hotel?”
“I’m working with the hotel for the weekend since there are a lot of people who’ll want to ride for the tours. My family’s owned stables on the island for decades, and we help out the hotel when they have big events like this one.”
He worked for himself. There was at least one thing we had in common. I made a mental note to ask him about his business because the more we had to talk about, the more I could be around him.
“That’s cool. No wonder you’re here all year.”
“Yeah, gotta take care of the horses and the property. It’d cost too much to move them for winter. Plus there’s something special up here.” His voice took on a wistful quality. “People pull together. We’re a tight community anyway, but in January and February, it’s on us to keep one another entertained, safe. There’s only a few hundred of us, and we’re kinda one big family.”
“It takes a helluva table to feed everyone, though.”
He laughed, as I hoped he would. “You’d be amazed how big the potlucks can get.”
I’d lived in cities all my life and couldn’t imagine living in a place so small and isolated. At least cold didn’t turn me off. But, I couldn’t wrap my head around living somewhere with so few people.
“Do you offer riding lessons?”
“Of course. I can hook you up if you want. I’m leading one of the location tours for beginning riders. You could do the same thing in a carriage or on a bicycle, but some of the guests want to get out on horses.”
“I’ve never ridden before.”
“The tour would be perfect for you. We take time to go over the basics, using the friendliest horses we’ve got. I’ll be leading and some of my staff will be along to help too.” He turned back to look at me. “You’d be fine. I promise.”
I believed him. I’d pretty much believe anything he said.
“And we’re here.” He brought the carriage to a stop.
How’d we get here so fast? We stopped in front of Ryba’s Fudge Shop. Damn it. I didn’t want to be done talking to him.
“Any particular recommendations?” I asked, getting as much time with him as I could.
“Well, you gotta get the chocolate. It’s basic, but it’s a classic and delicious. I’d recommend the peanut butt
er too, and the maple pecan is my most favorite. But be careful, it’s so easy to overeat the stuff and then regret it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I reached for my wallet. “What do I owe you?”
“I can wait if you’d like a ride back.” His hazel eyes drew me in. I’d noticed his eyes before, but with only a few feet between us, they were impossible to ignore.
“That’d be great.” I suppressed the urge to yelp in excitement.
“Perfect. I’m going to pull up to the curb and get the horses watered. I’ll be ready when you are. Feel free to take your time.”
“Thank you,” I said, stepping down from the carriage.
Was he flirting? Or were his eyes just doing a number on me? Maybe it’d been too long since anyone had looked at me like that. He was sending mixed messages—comfortable, intense, tentative—that were scrambling my thoughts. My gaydar couldn’t decide what to make of Miles either. Usually it was pretty good, but there were no clear signals. Maybe I was too hyped up to read them right.
The smell of the fudge shop was intoxicating with chocolate and other delicious smells vying for my attention. My sweet tooth knew no limits, and my mouth watered knowing that something good was on its way. It’d be easy to buy one of every flavor for the ultimate sampler platter. After I looked through the selections, I went with Miles’s recommendations and got a quarter-pound of each. I also picked up a bite-sized piece of the maple pecan.
Each block of fudge came in a cute pink box along with its own plastic knife. The young man that rang me up said it was for easy, on-the-go cutting. Of course, I’d have no shame just picking up the block and taking a bite out of it. I appreciated the idea of civilized fudge distribution, though.
I stepped out of the shop and found Miles next to the carriage. He held a bucket in front of one of the horses while at the same time he stroked the side of the horse’s head. It looked like he might be talking quietly to the animals as well. It was a picture-perfect moment, the man and his horses standing on this old-time street. In a sepia tone, the picture could pass for something taken decades ago. I hesitated to pull out my phone and snap the picture, though. It felt like I’d be intruding, so I’d hold it as a mental image instead.