Lake Dreams

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Above in clear night sky, stars twinkled and the moon beamed down, silver and magical. A few puffs of cloud scudded across the sky and the occasional moving lights of airplanes or even unidentified flying objects moved through the heavens with graceful ease.

  Cole couldn’t imagine tomorrow, not yet, but he embraced the night and the woman with him, as he shared mind, soul, and body once more with her, rejoicing.

  Chapter Eleven

  He woke earlier than normal, feet tangled in the sheets, with the scent of Maggie permeating his consciousness. When Cole stretched his hand across the bed, she was gone and when he sat up, thick headed from sleep, and called her name, she didn’t answer.

  “Maggie?” he repeated.

  Cole passed his left hand over his hair and shook his head to clear it. He cocked his ear to listen and heard nothing to indicate she might still be present. He padded from bedroom into the kitchen with bare feet but she wasn’t there. Nor was she in the bathroom. His eyes scanned the table, the counter, the fridge, the nightstand, in case she left a note but he found nothing.

  The brilliant spark of joy he’d known faded as Cole wondered where she’d gone and why, leaving him with questions but no answers. After their sensual intimacy, their shared night, Cole expected to find her head beside his on the pillow. His sweet anticipation vanished and he couldn’t fathom why she’d leave without a word. There must be a reason. And it must be a valid one.

  He made coffee, sipped a cup sitting outside on the porch in his shorts. Morning mist wreathed the lake with magic as he stared out across the waters. The cooler air evoked goose pimples across his bare chest but Cole savored it. A gentle breeze blew across his face and cleared his head. Fog swirled between the cabins and he couldn’t see down to the office but outside in the morning air he calmed. Moments later, Maggie appeared out of the haze. A smile lit her face as she approached.

  “Hey, you’re up,” she said. “I didn’t think you would be.”

  “I woke up and you weren’t here,” Cole said. “No note, no coffee, nothing at all so I thought you broke my heart but you’re back so maybe not.”

  His light tone covered his earlier hurt but it didn’t fool Maggie. She reached the porch and opened her arms to embrace him. After a second of hesitation, Cole folded her against him and held tight. Maggie cupped his cheek with her hand, her eyes warm and a little worried. “I’m sorry, Cole. I went down to make sure I didn’t have any messages or anything. I didn’t even have my cell phone with me last night. I thought I’d be back before you woke up.”

  He offered her a weak grin. “I figured you had a reason but I was lonely. Let’s start over.”

  She bought right into the idea. “Good morning, Cole.”

  “Morning, Maggie,” he returned. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “I’d love some,” she said. “But first I’d like a kiss.”

  She tilted her face up with a volatile combination of eagerness and wanton need and Cole didn’t hesitate. He took her mouth and owned it, his lips seeking confirmation, proof the night meant something beyond an erotic interlude. She kissed him back, answering his need and sating it with her own. Cole delighted in the moment and it salved his insecurities. Whatever this thing might be with Maggie, wherever it led, it was genuine.

  Over coffee, Cole watched a variety of expressions play across her face. He adored each one. Smitten might be an old fashioned word but Cole was smitten with Maggie. He marveled at the graceful way her fingers curled around the plain old cup and something as small as the way her lip touched the rim evoked tenderness within him. They fit together, he thought, like a favorite pair of well worn denim jeans and yet this morning, Maggie resonated with newness as their relationship shifted to a different level.

  “I’d offer you something to eat,” Cole told her after their second shared cup. “I don’t have much here, though. I’ve got frozen waffles but they suck.”

  Maggie laughed. “We’ll go down to my kitchen and I’ll make some biscuits or muffins, whichever you want. Then I’ve got to get busy. I’ve got bills to pay and I need to try to find some new guests.”

  The day, bright as just minted penny, lost some luster. Cole all but forgot in his rush of pleasure, Maggie ran a resort. He might be on something like vacation but she wasn’t. His half formed ideas of spending the day together faded as he adjusted to reality. “I’ll cut the grass,” he said.

  “Would you?” Maggie asked, with delight. “Oh, thank you, Cole. Mowing is my least favorite chore. I’ll make you a sandwich at lunch and feed you supper too, for helping me.”

  Sparkle returned. “That’ll work,” he said. “Let’s go eat breakfast so I can get started.”

  While she stirred up a batch of cinnamon apple muffins, Cole headed to the shed to pull out the mower. He checked the spark plugs, added some fuel from an old metal gasoline can, and poured a little oil into the motor. When he jerked the starter line, it fired to life after a few protests. After he ate, the lawnmower would be ready to go. Maggie called him to the table and he washed his hands before enjoying two delicious muffins.

  “Did the lawnmower start?” she asked him, with a little worried frown.

  “It sure did,” Cole answered. “I’m not complaining but I thought you might have a riding mower for a place this size.”

  Maggie sighed as she buttered half a muffin. “I used to but it died a couple of years ago and I couldn’t afford to replace it. I’ve been babying this one along. Kiefer can handle this one, so can Kaitlin. I’d probably worry if they used a riding mower. I’m sorry, though. It’d make it easier.”

  “I don’t mind,” Cole said and meant it.

  As he pushed the power over the tall grass, his thoughts rolled backward, senses dulled by the roar of the engine. He couldn’t quite recall when he’d cut his own yard back in St. Louis. A lawn care service tended to all the town houses in their section and it’d been years since he inhaled the pleasant aroma of cut grass. Cole enjoyed the morning although he got more than a little sunburned and sweat seeped from every pore by the time he finished. The pleasant morning segued into a humid summer day, air thick and sun hot.

  Cole returned the mower to the shed, locked up and strolled down to the office. At the moment Lake Dreams stretched empty, a private paradise to share with Maggie. He wished it could stay this way and then, as he recalled the resort equaled her bread and butter, changed his mind. For her sake, he’d love to see every cabin filled through the summer and into the fall. Running a place like this required work, though, he realized and a lot of it but offered rewards. Living on the lake would be worth a lot, Cole decided. Being with Maggie offered a greater value but the future remained hazy, like early morning fog over the lake. Maybe Cole would be able to see his way clear but right now he didn’t know.

  She met him with her picnic basket slung over one arm, closing the backdoor behind her.

  “Are we going on a picnic?” he asked. “It’s pretty hot.”

  Maggie shook her head. “I know it is so I thought we’d eat lunch at your cabin. My kitchen’s a mess.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I do,” Maggie said. “Besides, it’d ruin my surprise.”

  So they ate bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches, the bacon still warm and crisp the way he liked it. They shared a salad with ranch dressing on the side. Cole ate until he reached capacity but stopped before he overdid it. Whatever surprise Maggie might be cooking up, he wanted to enjoy. Maggie noticed when he quit eating.

  “Are you okay?” she asked with her left eyebrow cocked up in query.

  “I’m getting full,” he answered. “But I’m fine.”

  “Good,” Maggie said. “Why don’t you get some rest? You look tired and about half sunburned. Take a nap or something and come down to my place around six.”

  Cole almost protested but he was worn out and a siesta sounded pretty damn good. He’d come here to recharge his batteries so he agreed, “Sure, all right. Are you leaving?�
��

  She gathered everything she’d brought into the picnic basket and nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

  “You’re forgetting something.”

  Maggie glanced around and shrugged with nonchalance. “What?”

  He adored how she acted so cool and clueless but he wanted a kiss too much to play hard to get so he said, “Kissing me.”

  Her lips blossomed into a full smile, enough her dimple emerged. “Oh, that,” she said, with a small laugh. “I didn’t forget. I just wanted to see if you would.”

  “Never,” Cole told her. “Put the damn basket down for a minute, will you?”

  Cole pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his mouth moving over hers with purpose and pleasure. Her full lips molded to his in a way no woman could fake and their mouths joined, hot and brimming with promise. Cole worked his tongue into her mouth and she French kissed him in return, intimate and deep enough to stir his cock.

  He’d planned on having her later but he wanted her now. Cole would be more than willing to surrender the nap for a little afternoon delight but Maggie worked out of his embrace.

  “Save it for tonight, Cole,” she said, her eyes shimmering with roused passion. “It’ll be sweeter with the anticipation.”

  “Or it’ll kill me,” he told her in the same even tone.

  Maggie’s laughter rang out, musical and as pretty as her face. “No one’s ever died from waiting yet,” she told him. “I’ll see you later. If I don’t go now, I’ll never leave. Six o’clock, okay?”

  He groaned but nodded, “Six it is. I’ll see you then.”

  She blew him a kiss as she retrieved her basket. Cole watched her go, heard the screen door bang as she exited, and sat down, crotch throbbing with unfulfilled want. He grinned too keyed up to sleep but maybe he could throttle down enough to get a little rest. Cole turned on the television and flipped through the available channels without finding much to hold his interest. Although it made him feel a little weird because it was like a bus man’s holiday he watched The Weather Channel. About the time he drifted toward a light doze, his cell phone rang and he fumbled for it, hoping it might be Maggie.

  “’lo,” he said.

  “Cole?” His mother’s voice cut through his drowsy contentment. “Is that you?”

  Who else would be answering my phone, he thought but he replied, “Sure, it’s me. What’s up?”

  “Oh, same old thing, different day,” she prattled. “I hadn’t heard from you for a few days and so I thought I’d touch base. How’s it going?”

  “Great,” Cole said and meant it. “I’m unwinding and enjoying the time off from work. I’m probably getting lazy.”

  “Well, you deserve it,” his mother said with the special little note reserved for her youngest. “Honey, you needed a rest like this. You sound so much more like yourself.”

  “Do I?” Cole didn’t doubt it. He felt more alive than he had in a long time, even before November and his tragedy.

  “Oh, yes, you really do. You acted like a zombie these past few months and looked terrible, like a scarecrow or something.”

  He must have looked truly awful, he thought, because Maggie noticed the same thing. Cole already decided Lucille, the manager of the television station back home, made a wise decision when she forced him to take a leave of absence. He let go the last scrap of latent anger about his forced vacation and laughed.

  “That’s what Maggie said,” he told his mom without thinking.

  “Maggie?” she asked in a different tone, her nosy bloodhound voice, the one demanding tell-me-what-the-hell-is-going-on. “Who’s Maggie?”

  Cole snorted. Mom intercepted Maggie’s mail but didn’t even remember her. “Maggie, my old buddy from when I used to spend summers down here with the grandparents,” he said in a mild voice. “She runs the place now, with her kids.”

  Silence crept down the phone line all the way from St. Louis and then, after the snick of a disposable butane lighter firing his mom’s cigarette, she said, “Oh, her. I remember you talking about the little girl you used to play with sometimes.”

  Her effort to downplay the past irked him but in an even tone, Cole said, “We did play together when we were small. Those last few summers, we were teenagers and we were pretty darn close, Mom. Maybe you don’t remember but we used to write to each other all the time.”

  He dropped the hint with the powerful force of a bow-shot arrow and waited. A longer silence passed before his mother said, “I do remember, Cole.”

  “I imagine you would.”

  He said nothing more but waited, more patient than he would’ve been a few months ago and this time, after he imagined his mother smoking the rest of her Marlboro with speed, she said, with a sigh, “I guess you figured out I kept her letters from you.”

  “I did. So, tell me why?”

  Now she spoke too fast, the words tumbling over each other like acrobats not ready to perform. “I thought she’d distract you from your future, Cole. Back then, we wanted you to become a doctor and I didn’t think you needed a little country girl hanging on your arm. I wanted you to meet the right kind of girl who could help you go places outside the neighborhood.”

  “Like Victoria?”

  “Well, yes, like Victoria,” his mother replied with relief. “She was perfect for you, Cole, so lovely and so sophisticated.”

  Cole needed to share the truth and his mother should hear it. With a sigh, Cole shifted the phone from one ear to the other and said, “Mom, Victoria wasn’t perfect for me. We mostly went our separate ways and she’d asked for a divorce the month before the accident. If she hadn’t died, we wouldn’t be married now. I asked her to wait until after the holidays for the kids’ sake.”

  “Cole, you shock me,” his mother said, her tone a notch above scolding. “I can’t believe it. I always thought you and Victoria had the perfect family and now you’re telling me you weren’t happy and she wasn’t either!”

  His stomach, well-behaved for several days, ached with sudden nausea. He’d come this far, though, and he wouldn’t quit now. “That’s the way it was, Mom. Victoria said she outgrew me and I suppose she did. For my part, I was so infatuated with her when we got married I failed to realize it wasn’t love. I stayed in the marriage for the kids and did my best to make a family. I would’ve kept trying but it was over between us when the accident happened.”

  “Oh, my dear God,” his mother said, not with anger or ire but with sympathy. She seemed to both believe him and understand. “I should have seen it, son, and I’m sorry I didn’t. It’s not just grief you’ve suffered but guilt, too. Cole, I wish you’d told me.”

  Her words touched him and some of the sick feeling eased in his gut. “What could you have done, Mom? Nothing, really so it’s okay.”

  “It’s not, son but maybe you’ll feel better because you told me about it. Keeping yourself all bottled up is never good.”

  “I know,” Cole said with a small laugh. “But like I said, I’m doing okay now, better by a long way.”

  Her voice grew husky with tears, a sound he knew well. “Well, I know you are ‘cause I hear it in your voice. So whatever you’re doing works. You mentioned Maggie and said she thought you looked too thin. So are you two friends again?”

  “Yeah,” Cole said. “We’re good friends, maybe more. I don’t know yet, Mom but yeah, the old bond we shared survived the years. She’s good for me, Mom.”

  A pause and then his mom blew her nose, twice. “Well, she must be, Cole. I’m glad. I’m sorry for meddling years ago but I did what I thought was best.”

  Something inside him, an old scabbed over hurt began to heal. With compassion tempered with a new understanding, he said, “I know you did, Mom. It was a long time ago and it’s different now but whatever happens, I hope you appreciate how much Maggie’s helped me. She means a lot to me now.”

  “I’m getting the message, Cole,” his mother said. “You know, Babka and I didn’t always see things eye to eye so I didn’t p
ay any attention to her when she tried to talk to me about Maggie. I wrote it off as Old World nonsense like matchmaking and fairy tales. I guess I should’ve listened.”

  Cole’s interest piqued. “What did she tell you?”

  “Oh, just that…” his mom began and then her words scattered as another call apparently came through. Like he did back in St. Louis, his mom had call waiting. “I’ll tell you later, Cole. Your dad’s calling. Take care and I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “All right, Mom but I want to hear the story and know what Babka said soon,” Cole said. He truly did. “Bye.”

  After the call, Cole turned off the television, sipped a soft drink to ease the slight lingering nausea and thought about his past, the present, about the future but most of all about Maggie.

  Chapter Twelve

  In the somnolent afternoon, weary from the morning labor, Cole drifted into a light doze and woke fuzzy headed. He stretched, showered, and put on jeans, topped them with a light khaki button down shirt then ambled down to Maggie’s around six. From her hints about a surprise, Cole half expected her to show up at the door wearing nothing but skin but when he stepped through the back door into the kitchen without knocking, he inhaled a familiar aroma.

  From the delicious smells, Cole knew just what her surprise would be. A grin stretched his face so far out he’d swear later it hurt and he laughed with pure delight. Maggie, pulling a pan out of the oven, turned around and gave him back the smile. “Hi, Cole,” she said, “You’re on time.”

  “Do I smell Golabki?” he asked with interest although he recognized the delicious smell as soon as he came inside.

  Her cheeks pinked, either a blush or maybe a flush from the oven heat as she nodded, “Yes, you do. I wanted to surprise you.”

  “You did.”

  Maggie kept talking, her voice more than a little fast. I’ve made them dozens of times but now I’m worried my version will never live up to your Babka’s so I’m nervous.”