Chapter III
Phyl sighed and shook her head, gazing out over the lake from the expanse of windows, and seeing the first glimpse of the sunrise through the trees, knowing she needed to stay focused on the task at hand. Grabbing their suitcase from under the bed, she set it on the white comforter. Pulling items out of her top dresser drawer, she felt the folded paper, and she took it out, and read the hand-written note he had written to her after the blizzard of 'eighty-four. She remembered how she'd felt after first reading his rather formal words to her, with their unmistakably charged undercurrent. She smiled to herself and tucked the note back in the drawer, and returned to her packing. Within an hour, she'd packed for the two of them, hopefully enough for a week's stay. The temperature should be in the eighties this time of year, she figured. But, they wouldn't have the time nor the inclination to take advantage of the Bahama's beautiful weather or beaches with the task before them, whatever that may turn out to be. However, trying to think on the positive side, she had packed a bathing suit and trunks, hoping that perhaps Jonathan would be waiting for them, and tell them that everything had been a big mistake, and they could spend the rest of their time on the beach. Chances of that happening were pretty slim, she knew. Phyl found her large leather shoulder bag, and decided to use that as their carry-on bag, and she quickly filled it with their passports, and other essentials they would need on the plane, as well as an extra outfit, in case their suitcase didn't make it to the Bahamas with them after their layover in Atlanta. As she zipped up the shoulder bag, then the black suitcase, she heard Thad shut the front door and bound up the stairs, with Bear's scurrying paws clicking on the hardwood floors. He leaned against the bedroom door jamb, and she turned to him, and they smiled at each other.
"The Jeep is ready to go."
"Okay, these are packed." She put her hands on her hips. "Well, this is it."
"I think we'll know pretty quickly what kind of situation we're in for once we get there." Thad picked up the suitcase and shoulder bag and headed back out the door, Bear at his heels. She nodded in agreement.
Phyl looked around the rooms, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and checked the windows and doors. She hurried into the bathroom and peered at her reflection in the mirror over the pedestal sink, smoothing back a few stray strands from her forehead and ponytail, then headed back across the kitchen, noticing that the machine was blinking. She went over and pushed the button.
".....Phyl.." Oh, my God, it was Jonathan again. "..I...am..." There was so much static, she could barely hear any words, and she leaned down closer to the speaker. "...free....." click
When on earth had he called? She hadn't heard the phone. And what did he mean by 'free?' Was everything all right now? By the tone of his voice though, it didn't sound all right. She walked slowly toward the landing, deep in thought, and then fairly ran down the stairs to get Thad. Opening the front door, she saw that he had backed the hard-top Jeep out front, and had it packed up, and was getting Bear comfortable in the back seat. She called out to him. He shut the car door, and hurried up the stairs, and she pushed the button, as he leaned down close to the machine. After listening to the message, he raised up, running his hand through his hair.
"I'll get the machine out of the car. We'll need to record that one as well." He headed back down, and she waited for him, turning to look out at the beautiful lake. She folded her arms across her chest, sighing, then turned as she heard him run back up the stairs. He recorded Jonathan's message, then erased the machine, and they headed back down the stairs, anxious now to leave and get to the airport. As Phyl walked toward the front door, she couldn't help but glance into the downstairs room to her left, seeing her organized tables for each gallery, the teapots and large platters and bowls sitting atop each table waiting to be glazed, fired, or already finished, and ready for delivery. She was very fortunate to have a career in a field that she loved, and had not tired in the least of the effort involved in creating each thrown piece. All of this must wait, now, as they headed to help Jonathan. She pulled the front door behind her, and locked it, and they climbed up into the front seats of the burgundy Jeep. Phyl leaned over to kiss her handsome husband, and they headed down the curved gravel drive toward the road leading to Pete and Emma's lake front home, the next property north of theirs.
A Pale Paradise Page 7