Lake Dreams

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Cole started to say he did, describe how he couldn’t live without her but when he spoke, he blurted out the reality. “She wanted to get a divorce, Maggie. If she lived, we wouldn’t be married now. I really don’t know if I miss her or not but I feel guilty as hell just admitting such a thing. I’m horrible, I guess.”

  Her alto voice softened and soothed his ears like rain falling on drought parched grass. “No, you’re not. You’re just human, Cole. What did your kids think about that?”

  Maggie’s lack of condemnation touched him. “They didn’t know. I’m glad, in a strange way I never had to tell them. Brock was just eight, Brianna, five and Becca had just turned three. I don’t know if they could have understood or not.”

  He spoke their names, aloud, for the first time in months. Doing so evoked them and Cole saw them in his mind with clarity. Something tight in his chest gave way and as he stared at Maggie, tears filled his eyes raining down his cheeks and he waited for her to tell him not to cry, to not be upset, to hang in there, but she didn’t. Instead she grasped his hands again and spoke in a voice almost a whisper. “If you need to weep for them, go ahead, Cole. You’ll feel better if you do.”

  His trembling began deep within and expanded like an earthquake until his shoulders shook. All the pain he’d kept tucked inside for seven long months broke free and he sobbed aloud, his voice choking. Maggie withdrew her grasp and he put his head down, pillowed on his arms, to cry at her kitchen table, venting sadness, grief, and guilt in a toxic spew he couldn’t stop. Cole cried a long time and when his outburst began ebbing, he realized Maggie stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders. She rubbed his back and her voice, husky and sweet like clover honey, spoke soft words of comfort. When he realized he’d been bawling like a kid he rose up, scrubbed at his hot, tear-stained face with both hands and sighed. “Oh, God. Now I’m totally embarrassed.”

  Maggie put a hand on his left shoulder. “Don’t be. But we’re almost ready to eat so you might want to go wash up.”

  He stared at her and couldn’t object to such a practical request. He’d save his questions for later.

  Chapter Three

  Ten minutes later, Cole emerged from Maggie’s bathroom, ashamed of his emotional storm and yet somehow calmer. Venting helped, he thought, as he sat at the table. Both Kaitlin and Kiefer were in their places and as he scooted his chair up, Maggie sat down and they all clasped hands. The unexpected move startled Cole until he realized they asked a blessing so he bowed his head. He joined them in saying “Amen” then accepted food to fill his plate. Halfway through the meal he realized there wasn’t another place set and he asked, after joining in a lot of small talk about the weather, the lake, and various Branson attractions,

  “Isn’t your husband coming home for supper?”

  Maggie’s two kids froze like deer caught in the glare of headlights and she blanched just a little. Cole wondered what he’d said wrong as Maggie sighed. She set her ice tea glass down before she spoke, “I forgot you wouldn’t know. I’m a widow, Cole,” she told him. “Dwight died a long time ago when the kids were very young.”

  He’d stuck his foot deep into his mouth and wished he could take the thoughtless question back. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Maggie, I had no clue.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it sometime but not now.”

  For a few minutes, no one said anything and Cole missed the lively conversation he’d killed. He considered asking about her older brother but after his first faux pas he wasn’t sure he should. But when no one began a new topic, he did. “So, what’s Craig doing these days?”

  Maggie smiled but he noticed the expression never touched her eyes. “He’s a hot shot entertainment lawyer out in California,” she said. “He went to Stanford and just stayed. He has a wonderful partner, Earl. And Earl’s a professor now.”

  Cole caught the hesitant tone as if she thought he might be prejudiced against gays but he wasn’t, not at all. “That sounds great,” he said. “I’m happy for him. Does he come back much?”

  “Once or twice a year,” Maggie told him. “They like Branson.”

  “Kids at school made fun of me when I told them about my uncle and his husband,” Kiefer added. “They really are married.”

  “That’s awesome,” Cole said, feeling as if he just passed some kind of test. “No one should laugh at someone else’s lifestyle. Everyone has a right to live the way that’s right for them.”

  Kaitlin grinned, heightening her resemblance to the Maggie he recalled from years ago. “That’s right, Mr. Celinksi! You’re cool but then you’re from the big city.”

  Cole laughed. “You can just call me ‘Cole’ if you want, both of you kids.”

  “Thanks, Cole,” Kiefer quipped and they all laughed.

  After that, the talk returned to the previous level and when the meal ended, Cole’d eaten more than he had in a long time. The brownie about finished him off and his stomach stretched out, too full. Maggie cleared the table and then said, “Kaitlin and Kiefer, you wash the dishes. I’m going to walk Cole back up to his cabin and I expect them done before I get back. Understood?”

  “Yes, Mom,” they chorused.

  Maggie headed out the back door and he followed. “You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?” he asked, with humor.

  “Of course not,” Maggie replied, with a grin. “I figured you’re tired but I thought we’d walk down to the lake for a minute so I can tell you about Dwight. You might as well know. Everyone else does.”

  She surprised him but he nodded. “Okay.”

  Down by the edge of the lake, Cole watched a small cloud of insects hover above a log. He inhaled the rich, loam and water smell he remembered so well and stared out over the surface. Dark loomed distant but shadows deepened in advance and standing beside Maggie, he felt a sense of déjà vu, something he embraced. He’d missed her more than he’d ever imagined possible and wished, too late, they’d kept in touch.

  “Dwight died out on the lake,” Maggie said without preamble. “Kaitlin was four, Kiefer just two.”

  “Did he drown?”

  She shook her head. “No. He overdosed on drugs while partying with his latest girlfriend on some friend’s party boat. Most of the people who come to Taneycomo and Tablerock are just folks, fishermen and families but there’s a certain element that’s different. Dwight ran with them.”

  Cole didn’t know what to say. Indigestion rumbled in his full stomach, fatigue from the long drive down weighed on him, and his emotions remained in turmoil. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

  She stared out at the water, her face in profile to him, looking almost as young as when he’d last seen her here. “I wasn’t and I’m not,” she said after a few moments. “I’m glad I’ve got the kids but I don’t miss Dwight. He wasn’t a good husband.”

  Dwight Brown wasn’t a name Cole recalled from childhood although he hadn’t known many local kids, just a few who played Maggie. The girl he’d remembered wouldn’t have chosen so wrong, he thought, and wondered what happened. Because their old rapport seemed restored, he asked, “Why did you marry him, then?”

  Maggie choked out a sound half laugh, half sob. “I was pregnant with Kaitlin and my parents insisted. I met Dwight at College of the Ozarks, when I was a student. You know, at good old Hard Work “U”. He worked as a maintenance man there. I didn’t fit in, somehow and I was so lonely. He asked me out, I went, and everything snowballed from there but I turned up pregnant and married the wrong man.”

  “And quit school,” Cole guessed.

  She turned to face him. “I did. Dwight talked my parents into giving us the resort. He promised to take care of the maintenance and they wanted to move out to California anyway to be near Craig. They tried to talk me into transferring to a college out there but by then they weren’t happy with me or with what happened so they went. I had Kiefer trying to make my marriage work but it failed. Dwight died and here I am.”

  No bitter
ness tainted her tone, just a pervasive sadness. “Maggie, I don’t know what to say.”

  She smiled with a poignant expression and touched his face, her hand soft against his cheek. “I know and its okay, Cole. I just thought you should know. Come on, I’ll walk up to your cabin with you.”

  Neither spoke as they wound through the resort, past the other cabins and up the hill. Both turned to look out over the lake waters one more time and Cole noticed the first colors of a vivid sunset formed in the western sky framed by alto cumulus clouds, what most folks called a mackerel sky. Maggie reached out to put her hand on his arm.

  “You’re so quiet,” she said. “Did I offend you somehow or are you just tired?”

  “I’m worn out,” he replied. “Besides, your dogs don’t like me.”

  Her forehead creased in a confused frown. “Cole, I don’t have any dogs.”

  He put his right hand over his abdomen and made a face. “Your chili dogs are barking back at me. It’s an old joke and its okay. Some things just don’t agree with me since last November. My stomach hurts.”

  Maggie surprised him by placing her hand over his. “I’ve got some tummy medicine at the house if you want it.”

  Cole shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine but thanks.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Well, get some rest,” Maggie said, still frowning. “You look, oh, never mind.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, forget it,” she told him but her expression indicated she wanted to say something else and Cole wanted to hear it.

  “Tell me, Maggie.”

  She sighed, loud and long. “You look so tired and skinny. I know you’ve been through a lot but when I first saw you, compared to the pictures I found online I couldn’t believe how awful you look.”

  Victoria’s constant worry about everything grated on his nerves and when she picked at him about health issues, he’d resented it big time but Maggie’s gentle concern affected him the opposite way. He liked it but said, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”

  Maggie stared at him with her light grey eyes framed with dark lashes. “I can’t help it, Cole. It’s what friends do. We’re still friends, right?”

  If anyone asked him a week ago, he’d said ‘no’ and meant it. He’d never mentioned her to Victoria and his other friends had heard about Maggie. Even so, Cole’s bond with Maggie remained intact through the years. She’d been the dream he kept private, the special memory savored and not shared but when she asked, he answered without hesitation, “Of course we are, always.”

  “So you’re basically all right?” she said with a flicker of a smile. “You’re not sick or anything?”

  Cole wondered what illness she feared - cancer, AIDS, diverticulitis, or what but he replied, “I’m okay. I don’t get enough sleep, I drink too damn much, my belly gets picky these days, and my stress level’s been off the charts. But I’m not sick.”

  “Good,” Maggie said. “Nothing’s wrong that a good long vacation and rest won’t cure. Was it the first time you cried for your family awhile ago?”

  He nodded, “Yeah, it was.”

  Maggie smiled. “I thought so. I hope it helped. Go get some sleep, Cole.”

  “I will,” he said and thought for once he might actually do it.

  Maggie surprised him again when she opened her arms and hugged him, her arms encircling his shoulders tight. He hugged her back and when he released her, she leaned forward to touch her mouth to his, a fragile brush of her lips against his, faint and sweet.

  “Good night,” she said and turned, walking away.

  “Good night, Maggie,” he called after her.

  Her kiss meant nothing, he thought, just a friendly gesture but inside his shorts, his dick didn’t believe it. Cole’s cock grew hard at the memory of the brief caress and for the first time in months, the urge to masturbate struck him with force. He watched Maggie, admiring her grace, the way she moved as she strolled down to the office.

  Then he sat down in the Adirondack chair on the porch and stuck his hand down into his shorts right then.

  Cole stroked his dick and, thinking of Maggie, for the first time in months, he masturbated until he came. Then he sat outside as the sun set, watching the last light kiss the lake with gold. Afterward, he did something else he hadn’t in a long time – he slept until morning without waking.

  And he didn’t have any nightmares.

  Chapter Four

  Cole woke in slow stages, disoriented for the first few minutes. Instead of the master bedroom in the town house back in St. Louis, he stared at the walls of the rustic cottage, perplexed until memory returned. Then he knew where he was and why. Sun rays danced on one wall and he couldn’t believe he’d slept until morning. He wanted coffee and maybe food but first a shower. Afterward he’d figure everything else out.

  Dressed in faded jeans, a button down shirt, and real shoes, Cole figured he could conquer going to the supermarket. He hadn’t done so good on his forays back in The Lou, one of the reasons he’d lost weight, but today he felt confident. He debated about whether or not he should beg a cup of coffee from Maggie but decided against it and motored into Branson instead.

  Cole headed downtown to the Branson Café, a place he remembered visiting with his grandparents. He ordered coffee and studied the menu, settling on eggs over easy with hash browns and toast. After breakfast, he headed back toward the small, traditional grocery store he noticed on the way and filled up his cart with a variety of items. Frozen waffles, bacon, sausage links, milk, cereal, canned soup, salad greens, vinaigrette dressing, hamburger, a package of steaks, some microwave frozen dinners, bread, lunch meat, and chocolate pudding all went into the shopping cart. After debating whether or not he wanted themCole added some frozen pizzas and burritos.

  Just in case, Cole grabbed a couple bottles of liquid antacid although so far his breakfast settled down fine. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a morning meal, not one his stomach accepted. Overall he felt better physically than he had in a long time. Cole focused on the task of shopping without zoning out and the few kids he saw riding in shopping carts didn’t bother him the way seeing children often had. He paid for his purchases, suffered sticker shock at the total then carried his bags out to the car.

  Cole toyed with the notion of driving out 76 Country Boulevard to check out the sights but changed his mind. Already, this early on Friday morning, traffic streamed into the community and clogged the streets. He remembered today kicked off the three day holiday weekend and changed his mind. He’d wait till Tuesday or Wednesday next week to explore. Hell, maybe he’d even go to Silver Dollar City again. Some of his fondest childhood memories centered on the place and he’d like to see how much it changed. For now he drove through the narrow, busy downtown streets. The old railroad station loomed ahead, restored and offering train rides through the hills. He might do that, too, he mused. After months of apathy, Cole decided maybe he should try to get out, do things. Hibernating wouldn’t restore his kids to life or bring back Victoria. He needed to start small and slow with one step at a time.

  Cole packed his groceries into the cabin and put them away so the fridge didn’t look so bare or the cabinets lonely. He finished unpacking the rest of his stuff, putting everything away, something he’d never done on vacation before but he hadn’t ever planned to stay three months anywhere. Cole expected it would be noon or later but when he checked the clock, it wasn’t quite ten thirty.

  “It’s going to be a long day,” he said, aloud, his voice overpowering the quiet that lurked in every corner of the cabin. Reality struck as he realized if the rest of a single day loomed this long, three months would be an eternity. He needed to fill all those empty hours but he didn’t know with what. On impulse he decided to run down and ask Maggie. Maybe she’d have some ideas.

  Cole walked and savored the feel of sunshine warming his shoulders. That put him in a fair mood, an improvement from the black
mindset he’d lived with for months. Cole reminded himself he lacked a time table and didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything at a particular time. After years of strict schedules, leisure might take some adjustment but he guessed he’d try. Being away from home, far outside the St. Louis metro area helped. After the accident, he’d found different routes to travel from work to home but always had to enter the same town house. His mom helped him pack up the kids’ things and his mother-in-law hostile and bitter, removed all Victoria’s stuff. Cole wondered why he hadn’t just moved and decided he’d find an apartment when he returned. He would start fresh, all over again except for his job. Cole preferred to keep it if they would have him back – he’d been in television since his college years. He worked up from a weekend weather anchor to the coveted prime time slot. Starting a new career at thirty something wasn’t something he relished.

  Cole mounted the steps of the resort office and stopped. A note stuck to the screen door informed him Maggie’d gone to town and would be back after noon. Cole’s fair mood threatened to turn foul as he turned around. On impulse he went down to the lake shore instead. Cole spotted the old metal lawn chairs he remembered from the cabin porch years ago and dragged one to a shady spot not far from the fishing dock. He settled into it, surprised how comfortable the seat was and stared out over the lake. Something about the water rippling beneath a clear sky soothed and relaxed him. A light breeze wafted against his face and brought a fresh scent into his nose. He watched a few boats out on the lake and then shifted his attention upward. A few clouds scudded across the blue and he observed them with professional interest because they moved in diverse directions, an indication the fine weather might turn by sundown.

  Cole never realized he drifted off to sleep until he woke to Maggie’s voice and hand shaking his shoulder. As he stirred, he became aware she sang, not spoke and when he recognized the tune, it was ‘Frere Jacque’, an old French children’s ditty. For a split second, it seemed like hours and not years passed since they spent time together every day as Cole opened his eyes, laughing.