Reverend Stephans continued, “But that is the past and now you embark on the adventure of a new beginning, a new life, and a future designed by the two of you. Standing under this birch tree, I’m reminded of a Robert Frost poem, Birches. The first line of the poem talks about the birch trees bending to the left and right, across a line of darker trees. Such a lovely analogy of life and our need to bend and flex in the darkest hours, to be able to withstand the ice and rain storms and then live in joy, the kind of joy that allows little boys to climb and swing away from the earth for a while.
Vic and Ellen, our wish for you today is ……that you may bend and flex as the trees through the hardships of life and yet like a child, climb up snow white bark toward the heavens in joy, till the tree can bear no more and dips to swing back safely to the earth. May the Lord bless you and keep you all the days of your life.”
After the minister’s blessing, Ike remove d the blue blankets, wrapping us in a white blanket representing our new life together. We kissed as man and wife…finally.
… Woof! The sight of Lani’s fiancé, Jason engaged in a playful tug of war on the lawn with Cyrus pulls me back to the present, allowing my memories to slip away, hidden yet safe for another day. Even from my vantage point it’s questionable who will win the contest. A sharp tug from Cyrus causes Jason to slip on the dew covered grass, falling hard on his butt and Cyrus sprints off in search of another hapless victim. Shaking my head with amusement and affection, I watch Lani help Jason to his feet, suggestively brushing off his butt. Which he rewards by pulling her into a passionate embrace; two silhouettes become one in the fading evening light.
And then I sense more than feel his presence come up from behind, sinewy arms pull me into enveloping warmth, causing my skin to tingle, come alive and turn velvet in the lavender light of evening. The day old stubble of his chin tickles the soft side of my jaw sending tremors of delight down my spine. Vic…..
“Penny for your thoughts, mia.” his husky voice drawls as his breath caresses the lobe of my ear. His arms tighten around me, and I feel safe, cherished, and loved.
“Oh, they’re much more expensive than that,” I whisper, leaning my full weight into his embrace sighing in disappointment when the delicious kisses at the nape of my neck cease. He whispers hoarsely, “The best things in life are free, my love, or haven’t you heard.”
My face softens as my gaze travels over the Adirondack cedar house surrounded by porches, peppered with brightly cushioned furniture. Pure false gold winks from the shuttered windows, the light held within spilling out the windowpanes.
Two dormer windows peek through the roofline, capped with flower boxes, each box a cascade of geraniums and ivy. My heart rings with the truth of his words, for it is not the house nor the contents, but the voices of loved ones spread out across the lawn that beckons us, to come and draw near.
“You smell heavenly, like the forest on a summer day.” He kisses my hair and inhales deeply.
“So do you,’ I whisper, wrapping my arms around his waist and kiss the dark patch of skin peeking out from the collar of his shirt.
“Look,” he points down to the fire pits spread out along the shoreline, two smaller fire circles flanking a large tower of stacked wood. “I told them to go ahead and light the fires. We can watch from up here, the view is better.”
In slow motion our guests gather around the campfires and we watch as Josh and Claire help the children light the smaller fires then ignite the kindling at the base of the main fire. Claire pulls Izzy and Ansel close within the protective folds of her skirt, their curiosity outweighs caution. Jack’s brothers spent the better part of the morning building the main bonfire. Over seven feet tall, it is a towering pyre. Within minutes a sweeping cluster of flames reaches to the stars, sparks popping and cracking, the night sky obliterated by the blaze.
“Hey, are you hiding away up here? There will be none of that.” It’s Lani standing at the doorway to the balcony, carrying a tray with champagne flutes. “A toast to the newlyweds.” She places the tray on a small table by the railing. “But don’t drink it until Trey gives the toast.” She admonishes as she hurries back down the stairs.
Our guests gather around the campfire, faces dappled by the firelight, turn as one holding their glasses in salute to us. Trey lifts his glass, and his clear baritone voice cuts through the night air, “To Mom and my new Dad, Sentar, the warrior king,” this comment elicits laughter from the assembled group as he continues, “We love you and wish you mountains of happiness, a love as deep as the lakes, and may your joy soar like the song of birds on a spring morning. We wish you peace and a life ruled by contentment. And may you be blessed by the abundance of joy that life has to offer.” As we sip our champagne, from the far corner of the lawn comes, “Knock, knock!” followed by a chorus of groans. Emi Jo, Ben, Tee and the ever unflappable Mac continue, “Knock, knock!” And the resounding response is “Who’s there?” Mac answers, “Ewe!” And in the spirit of fun, everyone calls back, “Ewe Who?” And Mac with great flourish raises his glass in our direction shouting, “We love ewe!”
The night is magical……..with a sense of euphoria in the air, drunk on the freely flowing champagne, or perhaps, from the glow of firelight competing with the moon, leaving little space for stars to fill in the gaps of the darkened sky.
“I can’t believe they are all here.” Vic murmurs, shaking his head in wonder.
“Except for Gran and Burt.” I say, laying my head against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. “I miss them so much.”
“Oh, I think they’re here,” he says. “I feel their presence. For instance, Burt is perched up in that red maple tree by the water.” He motions to a maple tree skirting the shoreline. “And Gran is down by the dock trying to con Jack’s brothers into a poker game.” “You think so?”
“Definitely, I know so. Here, you’re getting cold.” He opens his jacket so I can slip my arms around his waist, wrapping me in the cocoon of his body heat. “Better?”
“Much. It’s blissful.” Closing my eyes, I enjoy the feel of his arms around me.
Strains of music drift from the band playing under a tent. Sounds that filter through the night air, to mingle and merge with the chorus of frogs and early crickets in the reeds along the shoreline. Humming along with the music, the band playing an old favorite, I watch Jack’s parents twirl around the dance floor. “Look at them, how much in love they are, after all these years. That will be us in thirty years, won’t it?”
“Absolutely, and I think we should start by taking a spin under the stars, see if your dancing skills can keep up with the competition.” He sways to the beat of the music, pausing for a moment, “I like Jack’s family. I know how much they mean to you. It was generous of them to come and be part of our wedding.”
“They’re special people. Oh, look, over there.” I point to a couple dancing under the shadows of the birch tree. “It’s Siobhan, Jack’s sister, dancing with Ike.”
“You’re right.” Vic leans over the railing to get a better view. “They look pretty cozy.”
“Siobhan recently divorced a man she should have sent packing years ago. And…” I pause for dramatic effect. “She took one look at Ike, it was like watching a starving cat in front of an open bird cage, topped with catnip.”
“Ahhh, the ladies do like Ike, he just isn’t one for keeping them around too long.”
“True, but they haven’t tken their eyes off each other since they met.” I point out to him.
“I agree. He does appear smitten. He left the poker game last night to take a walk with her. That’s unheard of in the world of Ike.” Vic sighs and tilts his head. “Who knows, maybe, this year he won’t take that trip to Pittsburgh looking for his lost love. I’d like for him to find someone. No one deserves to be alone.”
Actually, I think he’s perfect for Siobhan. She needs to have a little fun and I know Ike will be kind to her. And I……..I have a teensy tiny confession to make.”
“Oh boy…mortal, venal or sin of the white lie category?”
“Well….ummmmmm……I put something in her purse.” I blush even thinking about it.
“And what did you put in her purse?”
“Aaaah….the pink ones.”
“The pink ones.......what pink ones?” Then comprehension dawns on him. “Seriously, you put pink condoms in her purse?”
“Well……you see, she’s out of practice,” I pause for a breath, blurting out, “And not exactly the type to be toting her own.”
“Kind of like you, when your girlfriends forced them upon you.” He chuckles.
I arch my eyebrows at him coyly, “Just returning the favor. It worked very well for me.”
“That it did, my darling; that it did. But I hate to tell you, I think Ike usually packs his own, and pink isn’t his color.”
“It will be dark;; he won’t be caring if they’re pink or royal red with polka dots.”
Suddenly the sky overhead explodes into a burst of color and a loud boom resonates throughout the valley. “Ohhh……ohhhh……fireworks!” I clap my hands in glee, doing an imitation of a five-year old girl at her first parade. My eyes shine in the reflective glare, I love fireworks.
“For you, my mia bella, happy wedding day, quierda.”
“But….but….how did you do this?”
“I filed a petition with the town council. They balked, but your hero status after the kidnapping helped, they felt sorry for you and gave us a permit for five minutes of fireworks, so don’t blink or you’ll miss the show.”
“Oh, no, that’s just enough;; I feel guilty disturbing the mountain peace, but what a guilty pleasure.” I leave the sanctuary of his body, craning my head to watch the collusion of fire and gun power ignite the sky. “Look…. look, I love the white ones that rain down gold.” A series of green and pink embers explode, “No, maybe it’s the green ones or the red, white and blue spinners…..Oh, I don’t know…….. I love them all! Thank you, thank you, thank you, you are the best husband ever!” I pepper his face with kisses.
“And don’t you forget it.” He growls in my ear, his hands sliding down my body possessively. He kisses the back of my neck and his fingers do some clever maneuvers along the sensitive secret hollow of my hips. Those magic fingers have my full attention with the promise of things to come……
“Are those roving hands a promise, or are you just teasing me?”
“Buttercup, there are teases, threats, and certainties, this is definitely a certainty.”
Once the fireworks fade to falling embers of ash, and the bonfires reduced to a bed of glowing coals, a soft twinkling spreads across the meadows surrounding the house, blinking on and off. The twinkling repeats in the trees and bushes hugging the fields. Fireflies. The fireflies of June. Beautiful tiny, blinking orbs of greenish white light, the glow emitted from the abdomen of the female. In the tall grass the female signals for her mate, blink, blink, blink, I’m here, over here, come find me. A call of love, so simple in its purity.
Releasing a breath in silence, my entire being comes alive in the perfection of the moment. These rare serendipitous moments we live for, that space in time……precious, singular, wondrous…bordering on divine.
“It will just be you and me, babe, spending the entire summer on this beautiful mountain lake,” he whispers. “Being lazy, sleeping in till noon, cook or not cook, eat whenever and whatever we want; stay up all night watching the fireflies, skinny dip off the dock, paddle to the island, or lounge in the sun doing absolutely nothing. That’s my idea of heaven, right here with you. Going nowhere, doing nothing.”
“Really?” I ask, holding my breath and blink my eyes rapidly, already knowing the answer to the query. “Won’t that be boring?”
“Nope, you, me, Cyrus, and the kids now and then, that’s it.”
“Oh, boy…….”
“What do you mean…..Oh boy?” He cocks his head to one side, and his lips twitch in amusement.
“Maybe we want to do a little something?” I rub my hand along his chest in a soothing motion, thinking it’s not like I can’t get the registration fee back, and no one is counting on us or anything like that. I guess I should have thought this one through or asked him before I signed us up. At the time it seemed like a great idea. Okay, I got caught up in the excitement of the moment and the idea of a challenge. What was I to do? Ask him……..so I should have asked him. But he’s not going to like it.
Steeling myself for our first fight as a married couple, I plunge in…“I signed us up for the 90 Mile Adirondack Canoe Classic in September.” I rush on before he can protest. “We start practice tomorrow;; the trainer arrives at 9:00 a.m. sharp. He’s German or something, we don’t dare be late.”
“What!”
“You love me, right?”
“Thunk, thunk, thunk.”
“That was your head?”
“Yes….”
“Still love me?” I hear him muttering away in Spanish.
“Always, Elle, always. Forever and ever more. I did say for better or worse, good times and bad. How far is this race?”
“Ninety miles.”
“Wow…we have a lot of practicing to do;; did you say this trainer is German?”
“Ummmm….yes.”
“I hope he comes with super powers and is a licensed miracle maker. With your athletic prowess and talent for tipping boats along with my penchant for being lazy, this guy needs a direct line to the gods.”
“It was that damn snotty lady at the registration desk, she goaded me into it. I was just asking about the race and she said I was too old to participate.” I say indignantly. “What was I to do? It wasn’t my fault!”
He kisses the top of my head. “It never is, darling, it never is.”
“Whew.” I love this man. I love his strength, his sense of humor, his innate honorability, the intoxicating hold he has over me and I love that he gets me. I burrow my head into his chest, knowing I will love him always, a love born in these mountains, once lost…….and
now…..forever found…….
TheEnd
Aboutthe Author
L.R. Smolarek and her husband are self-proclaimed gypsies. Their caravan, a 24 foot RV with two kayaks hanging off the back is home for a good portion of the year. In the company of two very spoiled little dogs, they travel across the country, coming to rest in the Adirondacks, along the beaches of Florida or hiking the canyons and mountains of the west. But for winter, home is a cabin, once her grandfather’s sugar shack tucked in the woods of Western New York. Her writing has appeared in Country Living magazine, National PTA and for eight years she wrote a monthly column called Nature’s Corner for Western New York Family magazine where she drew on her experiences as a naturalist encouraging families to spend more time learning and exploring the great outdoors.
Adirondack Audacity Page 42