Searching through the kitchen drawers, she found a corkscrew and peeled the silver, metallic wrapper from the cork. Slowly extracting the cork she sniffed the contents and shrugged as she opened another cabinet and took down a wine glass. "What the hell?" she shrugged, pouring the glass half full. After a cautious sip, she smiled. It had aged better than she had. When everything was put away, she carried the glass into the front room and reclined on the couch, propping her feet on the coffee table. Staring out the front window, she watched the gathering storm move across the lake toward her, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
A flash of lightning and the sound of low rolling thunder woke her. It was almost dark, but she couldn't tell if the darkness was from night falling or the storm that had claimed the area. Forcing her body up, she placed an armful of logs in the fireplace grate and built a small tent of tinder. As the fire began to take hold and creep up the sides of the larger pieces of wood, she refilled her glass and dragged a pillow onto the floor, watching the sparks from the fire as they drifted slowly upward until they were sucked into the updraft of the chimney. It had grown completely dark outside, but she preferred to sit in the dark, the room illuminated only by the flickering fire and an occasional streak of lightning. She had no idea what time it was and didn't really care. She had left her watch in the truck, as usual.
Gradually the storm passed, leaving in its wake a soft, soaking rain and the wonderful smell of freshness. She was suddenly incredibly tired and banked the fire before wandered into the bedroom. Lifting the duffel bag off the bed, she slipped her shoes off and stretched out on the bed, feeling her body sink into it. The pillow smelled freshly laundered, and its scent conjured up memories of the sheets her mother always sun-dried. To soak up the sunshine and bring it into their bedrooms, Irene had told her children. A smile tugged at Harriett's lips as sleep pulled her further down into the bed.
A SHAFT OF sunlight across her face woke her the next morning. Holding her hand over her eyes to block the light, Harriett rolled away from it, but didn't fall back to sleep. Reaching out, she let her hand run over the empty coolness of the other side of the bed. It shouldn't be this way, she thought. She shouldn't be alone. Like so many things lately though, that hadn't been her decision. She felt her eyes mist over, but blinked it away. Sitting up and leaning back on her elbows, she waited a few minutes before swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She pushed hair over her head with both hands as she made her way into the kitchen.
She was surprised at the lingering coolness the rain had left behind when she carried a steaming cup of coffee onto the porch, sipping it cautiously. Sitting on the top step, she squinted at the light sparkling off the water in the cove and wondered if Wayne had left any fishing gear in the cabin. After a good rain, she was sure she would be able to coax a few earthworms from their hiding places. Swallowing the last of her coffee, she set the cup on the porch and made her way toward the fishing pier. She didn't have a plan. She wanted to be alone to think, to decide what she wanted to do. She had never thought about it before. She had always known what she wanted, had always gone after it, and had always caught it. Did she now, at forty-five, still want what she had wanted when she was twenty-five, or had she outgrown it?
If she never worked again, she was sure she had invested well and saved enough to stop working. Looking mentally through her personal dossier, however, she discovered that it was empty. She had a few good friends but otherwise was alone. Lacey would be leaving in a couple of months for college to pursue her own dreams and hopefully catch them. She could spend her time doing charity work, maybe join the Junior League and spend her time at book readings and fund-raisers for worthwhile organizations. Harriett threw her head back and laughed out loud. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't imagine herself doing any of those things. She didn't have any hobbies to occupy her time and, although she donated generously to charitable causes, it wasn't something she'd want to do full-time. She was an attorney. It was all she'd ever wanted, all she'd ever been happy doing. She loved the competition of it, the jousting back and forth in court, fighting the good fight or at least letting the other guy know he had been in a fight. Maybe Nick was right. She could become a visiting lecturer for young attorneys. She could write that book on the disparity of legal representation between the rich and the poor she had been thinking about. She could accept nothing but pro bono cases. Hell, she could join the public defender's office. But she liked seeing her name on the front door of her practice every morning when she walked through those gracious beveled glass doors that announced the entrance to Markham and Lazslo. But no matter what decision she ultimately made, she would still be alone.
Shaking her head vigorously, she decided she had had enough deep thinking for one day. Maybe just a few minutes of serious thought each day would make it easier. She didn't have to make a decision that day, that moment. The world wouldn't implode into itself if Harriett Markham didn't make an instant decision.
THE AFTERNOON OF what she thought was her fourth day of solitude she dragged her body up from the couch, which was becoming much too comfortable. Slipping a bookmark into the paperback in her hand, she walked toward the bathroom, stripping out of her clothes as she walked. She stepped into the shower a few minutes later and felt the water pelt her skin. Reaching up, she twisted the nozzle of the showerhead anticipating the water that would change from a mere pelting into a deep pounding. Moving under the water as it beat against her, she began to feel the muscles across her shoulders and down her back relax under the massaging stream. Bracing herself against the shower wall, she was surprised and angry when she felt warm tears run down her face, joining the water from the shower. Why the hell was she crying? Whom was she crying for? Turning the showerhead back to normal, she let the clean water wash the tears away.
She had just finished preparing a small salad to accompany the salmon she was planning to grill for dinner when she glanced out the kitchen window. Dark clouds spread across the horizon and appeared to be moving toward her. "Probably an hour or so away," she muttered to herself. There would still be plenty of time to get the salmon fillet on and off the grill before the rain swept across the lake. The wind was beginning to pick up slightly as she placed the rack over the coals and closed the lid of the grill. Brushing her blowing hair away from her face, she smelled the scent of rain. Every few minutes, she basted the fillet with butter and freshly squeezed lemon juice. When she saw the skin around the edges of the fish begin to blacken, she removed the rack from the grill and emptied the fish onto a platter.
The wind battered rain against the front windows of the cabin in waves as she set the salmon and salad on the coffee table. Returning from the kitchen a minute later, she flipped the small stereo on to keep her company while she ate dinner. Darkness fell quickly around her, and while she loved the rain, early spring storms worried her. One never knew when something more ominous would be spawned from the dark clouds.
The sound of banging on the door of the cabin moments later startled her. No one in their right mind would be caught outside after dark in this kind of weather, she thought, uncertain of whether to open the door. It was probably an idiot fisherman who thought he had enough time to escape before the storm hit. Wiping her mouth, she looked out the window next to the front door, but could see nothing more than a hunched figure, soaking wet, standing on the porch. Not willing to take a chance by opening the door to a stranger unarmed, she picked up the fireplace poker and held it as she pulled the door open.
The figure turned toward her, hair plastered to her scalp, water streaming down her face and glasses.
"Jess?" Harriett asked.
"Can I please come in? It's a little...damp out here," Jess said, trying to wipe rain away from her face.
"Oh, my God, of course. Let me get you a towel."
As Harriett quickly disappeared, Jess stepped through the door, trying not to drip in too large an area. Just as quickly as she had left, Harriett returned with a large b
athroom towel.
"Thank you," Jess said as she ran the towel over her head and clothing. "Sorry if I made a mess. I'll clean it up."
"Don't worry. You can't hurt this floor," Harriett smiled.
"Wayne said the fishing here sucked, and now I know why. Too damned much rain," Jess mumbled.
"Let me get you a cup of coffee or some hot tea. You must be freezing."
Handing the towel back to Harriett, Jess cleared her throat. "I won't be staying. I just needed to tell you that I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Harriett. That I couldn't keep my promise. You're not the first person I've let down, but I hope someday you can forgive me for not being there when you needed me the most. I'm so sorry."
"There's nothing to forgive, Jess," Harriett said softly.
"Sorry I made a mess," Jess said glancing down at the floor, "of everything." Looking at Harriett for a moment, she turned and walked out into the rain again.
Jess had jogged halfway to her Durango by the time Harriett reached her again. Trying to brush away the rain dripping down her face, Harriett said loudly over the thunder, "You...you didn't say goodbye."
"I don't like goodbyes," Jess said just as loudly, rivulets of water running down her forehead and cheeks. "It sounds too much like the end of something. Go back inside. You shouldn't be out in this mess."
Shaking her head, sending water flying, Harriett asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were going away? It was because of me, wasn't it? Because of what I said? I didn't mean any of it, Jess. You have to believe that. Please. I...I don't want to lose you."
Slowly, Jess moved closer and pulled Harriett into her arms and held her tightly. "Have you had enough time to think?" she asked softly, bringing her mouth close to Harriett's ear.
"About us, you mean?" Harriett asked as she pressed her head against Jess's shoulder.
Releasing Harriett from her arms and looking down at her, Jess nodded, "And other things."
Harriett shivered slightly, from Jess's touch as much as the rain. "Can we at least get out of the rain and warm up before we have the rest of this conversation?"
Jess nodded as she wrapped her arm around Harriett's shoulders and turned back toward the cabin.
About the Author:
A product of the Appalachian region of Eastern Tennessee, Brenda now lives in Central Texas, near Austin. She began writing in junior high school where she wrote an admittedly hokey western serial to entertain her friends. Completing her graduate studies in Eastern European history in 1971, she worked as a graphic artist, a public relations specialist for the military and a display advertising specialist until she finally had to admit that her mother might have been right and earned her teaching certification. For the last twenty-plus years she has taught world history and political science. Brenda and her partner of ten years, Cheryl, are the parents of three grown children and one still in high school, as well as two grandchildren. Rounding out their home are four temperamental cats, May-May, Bitsey, Harley, and Tootie, as well as a brand new puppy named Tipper. When she is not writing Brenda creates stained glass and shoots pool at her favorite bar. She may be contacted at [email protected] and welcomes all comments, good or bad.
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