by Terri DuLong
“And there’s no doubt that your mother passed that on to you.”
I nodded.
Ben placed his mug on the table and edged closer to me, pulling me into an embrace.
“I’m very glad I met you. You’ve also been a positive influence on me.”
I looked up at him and felt my eyebrows arching. “Really? In what way?”
“Well, after Emily’s death I had to go through a period of grief, but I think her betrayal left me feeling somewhat bitter—maybe angry is a better word. I was angry that she lied to me about our agreement not to have another child at that time.”
“And how do you feel about that now?”
“I’m beginning to see that, like your mother, she did what she felt was right. I can’t fault her for that. I think I was stuck in a sort of limbo when I met you. Just going along day to day, working, caring for Jonah. . . but without much emotion.”
“And you think that’s changed?”
I felt him pull me tighter and nod his head.
“Yes. I do. I feel you changed that. You brought brightness to my life. And a refreshing pleasure. Not to mention you’ve made my son very happy, and he adores you.”
I sat up straighter and faced him. “Really?”
He laughed and nodded. “Yes. Really. You must know how much Jonah thinks of you. He’s been playing matchmaker from the beginning.”
“And his father?” I asked. “Is that why he wants to be with me? Because his son likes me?”
“While it’s very nice that he does like you . . . no, that isn’t close to the reason. I like you for the person you are, Petra. But even more important . . . I like who I am when I’m with you. You make me see things differently. You help me to truly enjoy each moment.”
Before I could reply, his lips brushed mine and we kissed. The kiss deepened into passion, and by the time we broke apart, we were both breathing heavily.
“I like you too,” I whispered. “I’m glad you came into my life.”
We continued kissing as Ben slid me down on the sofa. Desire shot through me: I knew I wanted him. After a few minutes, I pulled away to stare into Ben’s eyes.
“Would you think me a seductress if I invited you upstairs to my bedroom?”
Ben stood up and reached for my hand. “I would think we’re both on the same page,” he said in a husky voice.
* * *
Sunlight was streaming through my bedroom windows when I woke. I moved slightly to see Ben sleeping, one arm flung across my body, and I smiled. It had been a beautiful and passionate night. Making love with Ben made me feel complete. I had been with other men over the years, but I had never experienced the same sense of satisfaction and emotion. He was a proficient lover, taking his time to pleasure me before we came together in a joint climax. There was no doubt in my mind—not only was Ben Wellington a good man, he was a good lover.
It was then that I recalled my dream after we had finally fallen asleep. Again, Emmalyn had come to me. This time she was out by the fishpond in the garden. Still wearing the formal red evening gown, she appeared to float along the side of the pond. I stood there watching her, and when she turned, I saw the dazzling smile on her face.
“You found the clues,” she said. “You found them and unraveled your pieces.”
She held up a mesh fabric of brightly colored ribbons. “They all fit together now. Every piece has been put together, and you are left with the completed work. Life is good. Enjoy it.”
And that was the end of the dream. I felt a twinge of sorrow because I knew I would not dream of Emmalyn Overby again. But I also felt a sense of renewal—a fresh energy for what lay ahead.
I felt Ben stir and looked at his handsome face. “Good morning,” I said. “Sleep well?”
“Good morning, beautiful. And yes. The best sleep in ages.”
He turned to pull me into his arms and kissed the top of my head.
“That was quite an intense night, wasn’t it?”
“It was the best.”
“I’m glad we’re still on the same page,” he said, and I laughed.
“And now, the least I can do is feed you breakfast. What time is Jonah due home?”
“Not till noon. What time is it?”
“Eight.”
“Can I use your shower?”
“Of course. But you’ll have to share it with me.”
He laughed again. “Twist my arm.”
Before we actually made it downstairs for breakfast, we made love again.
* * *
I had prepared cheese omelets, home fries, and bacon. Ben was tending to the English muffins on the grill.
“Are we eating inside or out?” he asked.
“I’m sure Mavis Anne has seen your car in the driveway, so no sense pretending you didn’t stay the night. On the patio.”
I got the table outside set with placemats and napkins and then went in to fill two crystal glasses with fresh orange juice.
By the time we sat down to eat, I found that I was hungry.
“This is delicious,” Ben said, taking a bite of omelet.
“Thanks. Love makes . . .” I started to say and then stopped. I didn’t want to sound presumptuous.
But Ben reached for my hand and said, “You’re right. Love does make everything better. And I have fallen in love with you, Petra. Looking back, I think I loved you even as I was telling you off at Petco.”
I laughed. “Well, I have to be honest and say I did not love you at that moment.”
“And now?” he questioned.
“And now . . .” I let out a sigh and nodded. “Yes. I have no doubts. I do love you, Ben.”
He gave my hand a squeeze. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Chapter 25
By the time June arrived, I had known Ben for six months. And I could honestly say they were the best six months of my life. I had brought him with me a number of times to visit my aunt, Elaine. We had returned to Jacksonville twice to visit Sebine. And we had spent quality time with Jonah, who seemed delighted to have me in his life. We attended sports events, spent time on the beach, took him to current movies, and sometimes we just hung out and played old fashioned-board games together, like Monopoly or Clue.
And during this time I had fallen more in love with Ben and become more attached to Jonah. I wasn’t sure where, exactly, we were headed, but I did know that I would be very empty without both of them in my life.
Ben had informed me a few days before that he had a surprise for me. He wanted to take me away for a few days. But despite my repeated attempts to get more information, all he would tell me was we were driving there and I needed to pack a bag for two nights.
I had made arrangements with Mavis Anne to have Lotte stay with her, and I was putting together a tote bag for Lotte with her food and toys. I then got her bed, clipped on her leash, and said, “Okay, girl, let’s take you over to Mavis Anne for your getaway.”
David opened the door with a huge smile on his face as he bent down to scoop Lotte into his arms. “Here’s our little sweetheart,” he said and leaned over to place a kiss on my cheek. “Come on in, Petra.”
I followed him to the sitting room where Mavis Anne sat knitting a gorgeous Irish knit sweater.
“Oh, Petra. And Lotte.” She put her knitting aside as Lotte jumped up in her lap. “We’re going to have such a nice time together,” she said, ruffling the top of Lotte’s head. “All set for your surprise trip?”
I nodded and smiled. Mavis Anne loved a good romance, and she was like an involved grandmother when it came to Ben and me. All the women at the yarn shop waited for my updates on what we were doing or where we were going.
I recalled Louise saying, “Honey, we’re living vicariously through you. So don’t leave out any details.”
“Yup, I’m ready. I can’t imagine what Ben has planned.”
“Well, whatever it is,” David said, “I have no doubt it will be a wonderful weekend.”
“I agree
,” Mavis Anne said. “My Jackson used to like to spring little surprises on me.”
Once again I marveled how her love had endured over the years even though he had passed away at such a young age.
I went over to pat Lotte. “Now you be a good girl while you’re staying here and I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Have a great time,” they both said as I left.
Within the hour Ben pulled up in the driveway and used the key I had given him to come inside.
“I’m here,” he called. “Is my beautiful date ready?”
I came from the back of the house and smiled. “She is. My piece of luggage is by the front door.”
Ben pulled me into an embrace and kissed me. I could tell he was excited about his surprise.
“Then let’s go,” he said, picking up the leather bag.
He drove west on Granada and when he turned onto I-95 we were heading north.
“Hmm, north,” I said.
He laughed. “Yup. North.” And he refused to say any more.
We talked during the drive and I was surprised when he turned on the indicator light to exit I-95.
“Amelia Island?” I said.
“Yes.”
I wasn’t sure why he would choose this area for my surprise.
“First, we’ll go to lunch down near the water, and then there’s someplace I want to show you.”
We had a great lunch of shrimp and grits at Marina Seafood Restaurant, the oldest restaurant on the island. Just steps from the harbor, we enjoyed a view of the water and boats from our table.
I took a sip of my Bloody Mary. “Great lunch and a very pretty view. Now will you tell me where we’re going?”
“Soon,” Ben said, a grin covering his face. “I never knew how impatient you could be.”
I laughed. “See, we’re still getting to know each other. Maybe by Sunday you won’t care for me at all,” I kidded him.
“Highly unlikely,” was his reply.
When we left the restaurant Ben drove toward another part of the island, and a few minutes later, he pulled up in front of a sprawling structure. The sign attached to the post told me it was a DoubleTree hotel.
“Is this where we’re staying?” I asked.
“No. This is the former Broadglen’s. Where your mother came to work in 1969. I thought you might like to see it.”
I looked at the huge oaks that towered above the property as Ben drove up the long drive. He pulled into a parking spot and we got out.
“Want to walk around a little bit?” he asked, and I nodded.
So this was where it all began, I thought.
Ben took my hand and we followed the walkway to the side of the building and then to the back. The Atlantic Ocean was in front of me, and surrounding the property were upscale cottages, which I assumed were for tourists to rent. But I knew they had to have been the cabins that back in 1969 housed the Broadglen’s staff.
“So this is where my mother lived and worked,” I said. “I imagine she was quite happy to escape the Pennsylvania winter to come here.”
Ben nodded. “Yes. I’m sure. It was a good opportunity for a young woman in the late sixties.”
“I wonder what ever happened to her good friend, Cynthia.”
“That was the girl she came here with?”
“Yes. My mother told me a little about her, but she said that by the time she returned to Pennsylvania, she never heard from Cynthia again. I guess their lives took different paths. Cynthia left that summer of sixty-nine to go to Woodstock.”
“No kidding? I bet that was quite an experience.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure. And then she left with her boyfriend for San Francisco. He was a musician and looking for a break out there, but I don’t think it ever happened. My mother said the last time she heard from Cynthia was when she got a Christmas card postmarked Birmingham, Alabama. I guess her boyfriend was originally from there.”
“Maybe they married and settled there. It’s too bad they lost touch, though.”
“Yeah, but I always got the feeling my mother was okay with that.”
We walked to the other side of the property as I watched the boats on the Atlantic.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said. “I’ve often wondered what this place was like, but never took the time to come here.”
“Maybe that’s because you were supposed to come with me.”
Chapter 26
We got back in the car and Ben drove about ten minutes before pulling up across the street from a large two-story brick structure surrounded by a black wrought-iron fence.
I looked at him with confusion.
“This is where we’re staying,” he said. “It’s the old Maxwell home, your ancestral property, and now it’s the Sail Away Inn.”
I leaned over him to get a better look. This was where my father had grown up. I felt tears stinging my eyes. What a thoughtful gesture on Ben’s part. I had mentioned to him that eventually I would like to come and see the property but had made no plans to do so.
I kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Thanks for making this happen and bringing me here.”
“I was hoping you’d feel that way,” he said before turning the car to enter the long driveway leading to the parking area.
We got out, removed our bags from the car, and walked up the steps to enter the reception area. I looked around and felt a shiver. This room was filled with antique furniture and had an Old World feel. I assumed this had probably been the living room and my father had spent many hours here.
“Hello,” the woman behind the polished wood counter said. “Welcome to the Sail Away. I’m Sarah and this is my husband, Nigel.” She pointed to the tall man standing beside her. I detected a British accent right away. They appeared to be in their early forties.
“Ben Wellington. We have a reservation.”
I saw the beautiful staircase leading up to where I thought our room was.
She flipped through some cards and said, “Ah, yes. Mr. Wellington. You’ll be with us for two nights.” She reached for a key and passed it to Ben.
“You have a beautiful place here,” I said.
“Thank you. We purchased it about ten years ago from the original owner, Peter Maxwell. It was his family home. We had to do some remodeling and updating, but we didn’t want to change the beauty of the house. Much of the furniture and paintings that you see belonged to his family. They were included in the sale.”
“So you met Mr. Maxwell?” I asked.
Sarah nodded. “Yes. He was such a nice man and very helpful in answering our questions about the history of the house. We were very sorry to hear he passed away a few years ago.”
I nodded but said nothing.
“You’re booked to stay in the Boat House,” she said and pointed to her right. “It was a small cottage at one time, but we have expanded the structure to include a bedroom, sitting area, and a large bathroom. Just walk through that side door, follow the walkway, and you’ll come out to a clearing overlooking the beach. You’ll see the Boat House in front of you. There’s a dock there and the boat moored is for your use during your stay.”
“Thank you very much,” Ben said, reaching down for his bag.
“If you need anything at all, just give us a call. There’s a phone in the room.”
Ben nodded, and I followed him out the door to a beautiful garden area with umbrella tables and chairs arranged with a view of the ocean.
We walked along the walkway. I wondered if Peter had taken my mother out here. I would never know for certain, but I had a strong feeling that he had.
I looked up and saw the white clapboard building. French doors covered the entire front and looked out to the beach and ocean beyond. I saw the dock a short distance away and a boat bobbing in the water.
Ben slipped the key in the lock and we walked into a cozy sitting area. The décor was nautical with white, yellow, and pale blue colors adding softness.
I set my piece of luggage
down. “This is just beautiful,” I said.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Ben pulled me into his arms for a kiss, and then we stood for a minute gazing out at the picturesque view.
“Let’s look around,” he said, reaching for my hand.
At the back of the sitting room was a small galley kitchen. To the left of the sitting area was a large bedroom with king-size bed, bureaus, and night tables. Off the bedroom was a good size bathroom complete with Jacuzzi tub.
“Did you bring bubble bath?” Ben asked, and I laughed.
“No. But we can certainly buy some.”
We walked back to the kitchen area and found a bottle of champagne cooling in an ice bucket on the counter. I picked up the note beside it and read a welcome from Sarah and Nigel.
“This was so nice of them,” I said.
“It was,” he agreed. “Shall we try some?”
“Absolutely.” I walked to the French doors as he uncorked the bottle and I heard a pop.
I looked out to the sky and the ocean and felt a sense of peace come over me. In that moment I felt the spirit of both my parents. I felt their love and I whispered, “Thank you.”
I was grateful to now have the entire story of how I came to be. I also thought of my mother in a different way. I may not have agreed with her choices, but I admired the strength and resilience she showed throughout her life. I only wished that both of them could have remained on this earth much longer.
“Here you go,” I heard Ben say as he stood beside me.
I reached for the champagne flute.
He touched the rim of mine and said, “Here’s to us. Here’s to whatever our future will bring.”
I nodded. “I love you, Ben.”
“And I love you.”
We took a sip of champagne, and then sat on the sofa to enjoy the view in front of us.
* * *
By Saturday evening we were sunburned, full of delicious seafood, and completely satiated from making love.