by Nella Tyler
The result was being very well rested and at peace with the world as the weekend came around. Adam picked her up on Friday evening, and she laughed when he saw her two suitcases and shook his head.
"No, we agreed. This was to be a lightweight vacation. Take those back in the bedroom and when you come back, I only want to see one bag. This is all about letting go."
"Very well," she answered him and trudged back to her bedroom emerging a few minutes later with the larger of the two suitcases and a hand. He rolled his eyes a bit, nodding as his expectation was on the mark.
He carried the bag out to his vehicle and loaded it in the trunk before opening the door on the passenger side for her. A jacket over her arm and her handbag clutched in one hand, she climbed into his car and noticed that he had two coffees waiting for them. He was always so thoughtful.
They left town and headed north as the sun was setting in the west. Fall had come and the colors were beginning to convert the summer world into a kaleidoscope of breathtaking views. The sun, being low on the horizon, shown through the branches as though the forest was backlit. It made her want to get out and run through the trees, in search of the rainbow she suspected began somewhere just on the other side.
They chatted casually about interests they had in common. They both enjoyed music and while Adam tended towards jazz and the blues, Mackenzie's love of classical and gospel music were not frowned upon. His car held an excellent surround sound system and he had a music service that permitted him to set up playlist that fed both of their preferences.
The road was smooth and curved gently, undulating over the song small hills. It was a picturesque drive and although she had butterflies in her stomach, she felt safe and protected.
Thornberry Farm was their destination. It was operated by the Thornberry family, third-generation. While it was a working farm producing primarily fruits and vegetables, the family had refitted a massive farmhouse to accommodate eight guestrooms with baths.
The present Mrs. Thornberry was a portly woman who wore her gray hair in a bun. She wore neat cotton house dresses with an apron, sturdy shoes, and an attitude that brooked no nonsense. Mr. Thornberry had passed on sometime before and so the Thornberry sons were running the farm actively. As it was fall and harvest time, there were bushels of apples and peaches lining the back porch. Mrs. Thornberry would be canning and making pies to get them through the winter.
They raised their own organic livestock as well as a few chickens and even some turkeys. It was the sort of picturesque place people wrote about in books and Mackenzie was tickled to death to go there.
An additional reason for this was that Mrs. Thornberry happened to be an avid quilter. She had one room set up where she sewed her squares and then, using the long arm quilter, finished her own quilts. Mackenzie was looking forward to watching her sew and examine her finished pieces.
Adam, on the other hand, was more interested in simply being with Mackenzie and the fact that she found an added enchantment into coming to Thornberry Farm only made him care more.
They had arrived just in time for a late supper in their room. The room was filled with French country furniture including a pair of upholstered wingback chairs clustered around a small end table before the window. The window was deep and looked out over the farm itself, and although it was dark by now, Mackenzie could imagine in her mind what lay before them. Mrs. Thornberry had brought up a large tray filled with plates and covered dishes.
"Well, I ain't going to say that this is the best meal I ever cooked, but it'll get you through the night. I serve dinner at six o'clock regular and expect you both there tomorrow. When you're done with the tray, set it outside the door, and nobody will bother you for the rest of the night.
“If you need anything, my room is downstairs next to the kitchen. Just come on down tap on the door, I'm a light sleeper. If you want more food, help yourselves. The refrigerator is always full.” With that, she took a last look around the room, nodding in approval, and then nodded at them. "You all have a good night, now."
The door closed and Mackenzie busied herself setting up the trays on the bed. She handed Adam a plate and took one herself, and they delved into an assortment of cold meats, freshly baked sandwich rolls, a choice of two cold salads, some of Mrs. Thornberry's well-known sweet pickles, and half of an apple pie. There was a pitcher of cold milk and a second of coffee. It was everything they would need and more.
They filled their plates and sat down in the high backed chairs. A harvest moon had risen as though presenting itself just for them. Its light cast a glow over the fields in the distance and if either one of them had have the presence of mind to bring a camera, surely there would have been a few Hallmark-quality photos taken.
When they had finished eating, Adam set out the dishes while Mackenzie removed her nightgown from her bag and went into the bathroom to quickly shower and change. When she came out, she found him sprawled across the four-poster bed.
"Wow. I don't know what else to say. You’re breathtaking. Why don’t you climb in here and I'll join you in a few minutes," he folded back covers on her side of the bed and she nodded. As Adam went into the bath, she went to stand before the window, looking out over the golden fields.
The moon had risen even higher and it was if a spotlight shone into the room. She was very nervous and wished she hadn't eaten quite so much, but the food had tasted so very good. Mackenzie took a deep breath and as a kaleidoscope of memories flitted through her brain, she climbed beneath the covers and waited for Adam.
What she was feeling was an entirely unique feeling. She and David had grown accustomed to one another and while they were intimate on a regular basis, the first time magic had soon disappeared when they were first married. This was understandable for all couples and while they always were tender and enjoyed one another, the experience had become more routine than what she wanted it to be.
There was that vision of Dell and herself at night, in the living room and on her bed. She froze at the memories and tried to put those visuals out of her mind. Adam did not deserve to be compared to such an animal as that. She had never heard from Dell again and her relief was intense. She suspected that Harry might have had something to do with that fact.
She lay back against the pillows and turned on the small radio on the nightstand, tuning in a station of oldies. She was listening to a Buddy Holly song when the door opened and Adam came out of the bath, freshly showered and shaved, his hair combed neatly into place. He was completely naked.
Mackenzie tried not to stare but the visage of a man's perfect body was so splendid that it demanded reference. She knew she had to say something and it felt like an awkward moment. He was very matter of fact, putting his shaving kit back into a suitcase and then turning toward the bed.
"I have to confess I'm a little nervous," she said. "You’re quite an impressive man, very handsome."
"Thank you," he said as he bent over to lift the covers and slide beneath. "Would you mind flipping off the light?" Mackenzie appreciated this gesture, as she knew that he understood she was a bit self-conscious and that he was giving her the benefit of comfort.
As she turned back from flipping off the light, she asked "Would you like the music off?"
"No, it's fine with me if it's fine with you." He is such an accommodating man, she realized.
"Come here, Mack," he said in a gentle voice, and she realized this was the first time he had called her by her nickname.
He extended his arm to guide her to lie against his chest. Although her gown was full-length, she could feel the moist heat from his newly showered body against her skin. She couldn't help but wriggle a bit, as nervous as she felt.
"Will you trust me?" he asked her in a soft voice. She nodded and then felt his lips upon her own. The first kiss he gave her was tentative. It was his, as if he were asking her permission to have her body. In return, she increased the pressure of their kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him the sig
nal he had hoped for.
He pulled back for only a moment and said, "Let's lose this for right now," as his hands caught the hem of her gown and quickly pulled it up over her head and off. She was naked and vulnerable once again, but this time, she felt nothing but longing.
Adams hands were masculine – somewhat rough from the construction he was around and yet his fingers were long and adeptly muscled. He stroked her thighs, long sweeping movements that pressed somewhat into her muscles, relaxing her. His hands passed over her bottom and he pulled her closer against him so that her breasts now pressed into his chest.
He kissed her forehead, sweet soft kisses that deepened as he reached her mouth. His tongue slid inside to meet her own, and as he kissed her, he explored the inside of her mouth. He kissed that sweet spot beneath the lobe of her ear and she felt hot chills shoot through her body. It was one of the most sensitive spots she had.
Adam was a masterful lover. He considered first her nervousness and then her growing desires. His hands traveled, unlocking tiny doors of longing at each of the vulnerable spots of her body. He never forced himself, but gradually approached and then soothed until she relaxed. She felt the languor pour itself through her and with it came a craving to be closer to him.
His hands cupped her breasts, and his fingers massaged the soft skin beneath. Her nipples protruded and ached for his touch. "I want you," she whispered into his ear. Her answer was an animal growl of victory, and he smoothly rolled from her side and supported his weight above her.
"You do know that I'm in love with you, don't you? he whispered.
"I think I love you, too, Adam. For right now let's not think. I want to feel you inside of me." She felt a bit of surprise at her own words. She had never asked that of a man before. Perhaps it was her foray into independence that now empowered her to ask for it.
Adam did not hesitate, but parted her legs and entered her smoothly. He fit her perfectly, and as they both realized that, he was still for a few moments, both of them adjusting to the heated sensation of the perfect match.
He began to move, his hips swaying from side to side so as to not leave out any part of either one of them. He gently drove her into the mattress, her breath escaping in gushes as his movements set her afire. It was the perfect joining; their hearts beating in tandem, each anticipating the other’s next move. When at last, the fire had become too much and both of them erupted, it was not an ending, but a harbinger of what was to come for the rest of the weekend.
They stayed in bed the entire next day, falling into an exhausted sleep from time to time. At one point in the late afternoon, a tap at the door awakened them. Adam pulled on some pants and answered the door only to find another giant tray sitting on the floor waiting for him.
He carried this in and set that on their bed. Like couple of children at a picnic, each wrapped in the sheet, they feasted from the slices of roasted beef, fresh new potatoes, steamed green beans, and peach cobbler. Thusly sated, Adam put the tray back into the hallway and they fell into one another's arms and drifted back to sleep.
Their lovemaking was sporadic throughout the night, each time a little less frantic and a little more masterful. They had already come to learn one another's bodies, and their love for one another guided them to the desire to satisfy one another before themselves.
On Sunday morning, they rose early, showered and dressed, and made themselves present at the breakfast downstairs. Not a word, not even a reference came from Mrs. Thornberry. She had seen young love before and it was very normal, particularly in a place where things grew naturally.
After a full, delicious farm breakfast, the pair dressed in sturdy clothes and holding hands, went to explore the farm. They walked the acres, pausing every so often to absorb the early fall sunlight, its warmth upon their faces underscoring the sensation of that they had arrived in heaven.
The time had come for them to leave and after hugging Mrs. Thornberry, they climbed back into Adam's car and headed south once again. They didn't speak on the drive home, each of them caught in a reverie of the weekend they had just spent together. Adam took her home, carrying in her bag as she unlocked the door she turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck as his arms went around her waist.
He bent low and whispered into her ear. "I know." He kissed her, a deep knowing kiss that summed up their weekend like turning out the lamp on the nightstand. Without another word, he turned and left, and she locked the door behind him.
Mackenzie wandered into her crafting room, flipping on the light as she entered. She went to sit in her chair, not for the purpose of creating, but for the purpose of appreciating all that her life had become.
VOLUME IV
Chapter Twenty
Her vacation having come to an end, Mackenzie returned to work the next morning. The office was abuzz with people standing in small clusters talking. The women were wiping their eyes and blowing their noses, the men looked at the floor, their hands in their pockets and wordless.
Mackenzie instantly picked up that something very, very wrong had happened. She looked for Lucy, but she hadn't arrived yet. She went to one of the other women she knew.
"Margaret, what's wrong? What's everyone talking about?"
Margaret turned slowly to face Mackenzie. "You don't know…" she said in a sorrow- filled voice. It was not a question, but a statement.
"Know what?"
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry to tell you this. I know you were both so close. It's Lucy."
"Lucy? Lucy! What about Lucy?" Mackenzie grabbed Margaret's arm. "Tell me!"
"She's gone. We got word this morning. It happened over the weekend." Margaret's face filled with grief, and yet there was compassion for the shock that Mackenzie was now feeling.
"What do you mean she's gone? Gone where?"
"She passed on, Mackenzie. I think it was Saturday night. We’re not really sure of the details yet. Her husband called the boss."
Mackenzie's mouth was open in shock. Margaret reached out to comfort, her but Mackenzie pushed her arm away as she turned and reclaimed her purse from the desk, running out the door into the elevators. She pounded the doors of the elevator as though to make it come up more quickly. It finally admitted her and with anguish, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and texted Adam.
Mackenzie: Something happened to Lucy. They say she's dead. I'm headed over there.
Adam: Wait right there in the parking lot. I don't want you driving over there alone. I'll be there in three minutes.
Mackenzie was shaking as she unlocked her door. She knew Adam was right and that she was in no shape to drive, so she got back out and climbed in the passenger side. She couldn't cry, not yet. She didn't believe it was true.
Adam's car screeched to a stop next to her own and he leaped out. He climbed in behind the wheel and leaned over to hold her. She still couldn't cry. She had been a good soldier for so many years; this was something she knew about.
"Where does she live?"
Mackenzie muttered the address and Adam fired up the car and pulled out into traffic. "Did anyone say what happened?"
Mackenzie could only shake her head. "They think it was Saturday. Marty called in to the boss. I don't know anything more."
Adam pulled into their driveway and before the car was at a stop, Mackenzie was out and running up the porch. She was beating on the door calling out in a ragged voice, "Marty! Marty! It's Mackenzie. Let me in. Marty!" She continued to beat on the door.
Adam had come up behind her just as the door handle began to turn and the door slowly swung inward. "Mack, come in."
Mackenzie launched through the door, wrapping around arms around Marty's neck. "Oh my God. What happened?" Marty looked over Mackenzie’s shoulder toward Adam, who nodded in sympathy and looked downward.
Marty heaved a huge sigh as he took Mackenzie’s hand from about his neck and led her into the living room. The room was in shambles. There were articles of clothing lying about and dirty dishes cov
ered the tabletops. In the midst of it all sat a box. It was the size of a shirt box, white and held tissue paper and a tiny pink baby’s dress. The tableau said it all, yet it said nothing.
"Sit down, Mack," Marty urged her. He looked toward Adam and said, "Hello, I'm Lucy's husband, Marty. Won't you sit down?"
"My name's Adam, Marty. My sympathies." Marty nodded solemnly. Adam looked quickly around the house and saw a woman’s touch. He knew Lucy must have been a creative and loving soul.
"I'd offer you something…but…" Marty stumbled through the words.
"Marty, what the hell happened?" Mackenzie's voice was ragged with the need to know. A picture of Lucy on her wedding day was lying on the coffee table. Her face was radiant with happiness. It lay next to the box that held the baby’s dress.
"I'm not really sure, to tell you the truth, Mack. We had gone to bed early Saturday night. Lucy had been having a lot of morning sickness, but it didn't end with the morning. She'd been off her mark all day, relaxing in bed and watching television. I sort of stayed with her and then got up to make a something to eat from time to time. I had gotten involved in a project out in the shed in the late afternoon and when I came in, I showered and went to bed with her early. We were watching an old movie, something with Bogart."
He stopped then, thinking. Mackenzie was frantic to hear the rest of the story but she could tell he was struggling and gave him his moments.
"I had fallen asleep," he began again. "Something woke me and there she was, standing next to the bed, the TV was still on behind her. Her nightgown was soaked with blood and she stood there, her hands clutching herself as if trying to hold it in. I remember calling her name and sort of falling out of the bed to get to her. She had a look of terror on her face. One moment she was standing, and the next, she crumpled to the floor. I tried to revive her, but she wouldn't wake up. There was just so much blood.