by Kate Sweeney
“That was delicious, Betty.” Cara stood and gathered the plates. “I’ll do the dishes.”
“Oh, no,” Betty said weakly. “Let me.”
“That was a pathetic attempt.” Morgan helped Cara with the dishes.
“Sit down. I can do this.”
“Nope. You’re a guest. And I feel much better after making a pig out of myself.”
Cara laughed and followed her to the kitchen.
“Wash or dry?” Morgan asked.
“You don’t have a dishwasher?” Cara tried not to sound so amazed. She heard Betty laughing in the living room.
Morgan raised both hands. “Right here. They never fail.”
“It’s the twenty-first century.” Cara grabbed a towel. “I’ll dry.”
Morgan handed her a plate. “You’re a creature of comfort, aren’t you?”
Cara dried the dish. “A dishwasher is not a creature comfort. Neither is a microwave or a coffeemaker. They are appliances that a good majority of the civilized population use. Like a washer and dryer.” She stopped and looked at Morgan.
“Of course I do.” Morgan handed her the silverware. “You think I’m a barbarian?”
Cara watched Morgan scrub the baking dish.
“See, if you had a dishwasher…”
“Let it go.” Morgan turned off the faucet and dried her hands. “There, see? All done.”
Cara helped her put the dishes in the cabinet. For a moment, their hands touched when they reached for the same plate. Cara felt a tingling sensation in her fingertips as she took her hand away.
“And we had the time to talk while doing the dishes and get to know each other while my father falls asleep in the living room.” Morgan laid the towel over the sink. “Now tell me we would have a conversation standing over a dishwasher.”
“All right. I see your point.” Cara did the same with her dishtowel.
“Coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’ll be up all night.”
Morgan leaned against the counter. “So, are you a creature of comfort?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about it.” She then remembered eating at the tray, eating tater tots and venison stew. “We live differently.”
“Big city?”
Cara laughed. “Yes. I live in an apartment with a great view of the city and the lake.”
“That sounds nice. I love being around water.”
“Well, Chicago is nothing like this. Though Lake Michigan is huge. And I am proud of the lakefront.”
“But you don’t get the aurora.”
“No. That we don’t. Too far south and too many lights. But I think you’ll enjoy your time there.”
“I’m sure I will.”
“There are hundreds of great restaurants for any appetite. Museums, Grant Park, Navy Pier with every shop imaginable…”
“The best things in life, eh?”
“Well, I suppose, yes. Everything you’d want.”
“As long as you know what you want.”
There was that soft voice again. Cara was keenly aware of Morgan watching her while she tried to look busy wiping off the counter.
“You shouldn’t stare. Or do I have tuna noodle hot dish on my shirt?”
Morgan threw her head back and laughed, then winced, putting a hand to her side. “No, you’re…you’re fine.”
Cara’s heart fluttered when she heard Morgan’s soft tone. She stood by the stove, not knowing where to go. Suddenly, her feet felt like cement.
“I’d better go make sure my parents are breathing.”
Cara chuckled. “That’s not funny.”
Morgan laughed, as well, and walked out of the kitchen. Cara leaned against the stove and sighed. There was a moment there when Morgan looked at her…She quickly shook her head. Don’t be a dope, Pembroke, you have a job to do here, then you’re off to your dream vacation.
“Too many tater tots. I need sleep.”
Chapter 8
Cara woke slowly, feeling so comfortable. She pulled the quilt up to her chin. Damn it. She smelled coffee and bacon.
“What is it around here? They’re either baking or cooking or chopping wood.” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Seven thirty? Ugh. She’s probably out fishing or something.”
A quick hot shower did the trick. As she made her way down the hall, she heard Morgan humming in the kitchen. She was always singing or humming or whistling.
Morgan looked up when Cara stood in the kitchen doorway. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.”
“You didn’t have to get up so early.”
Cara groaned. “I couldn’t sleep. I smelled coffee and bacon.”
“Better than an alarm clock. Have a seat.”
Morgan poured a cup of coffee, then refilled her own. “So, what’ll it be? Eggs, pancakes? Both?”
“I’ve been constantly eating since I got here. This is fine, thanks.”
“Are you kidding? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“I’m not really a morning person.”
“Oh, okay. Gotcha. I’ll tread lightly.”
Morgan turned to the stove and cracked a few eggs in the pan while turning the bacon. “How’d ya sleep?”
“Wonderful. I may have to take that bed back with me. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Oh, I’m fine, thanks. Just needed a good sleep.”
Cara raised an eyebrow when Morgan sat with a plate of three fried eggs and potatoes. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”
“No. I’ll put on five pounds just looking at your plate.”
Morgan scoffed. “This is nothing. I usually have oatmeal too.”
Cara rested her chin on the palm of her hand, eyeing the plate of bacon. Morgan took four or five pieces, munching on one on the way to her plate. She grabbed the bottle of ketchup and covered the fried potatoes.
Cara drank her coffee, then snagged a piece of bacon. “Damn you.”
Morgan laughed in between mouthfuls.
“Don’t you worry about your arteries? Or your blood pressure? You’re forty-eight.”
Morgan waved her off with her fork. “Everything in moderation. I got the good metabolism from my dad’s side of the family. My mom is like you. She can put on weight just thinking about food.”
“You certainly enjoy yourself.”
“I love to eat. Doesn’t matter what. It’s such a celebration, you know?”
Cara thought for a moment. “Yes, it is. But I suppose I just look at it as a means to an end. You eat to live.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong.” Morgan took a drink of coffee. “I live to eat. If you look at it as something you have to do, there’s no enjoyment in it. I’m not advocating gluttony, just moderation.” She picked up another piece of bacon, grinned, and munched away.
“So, what are your plans for today?” Cara sneaked another piece of bacon. She watched Morgan slather a piece of toast with brown-colored jam.
“What is that?”
“What? Oh, apple butter. Mom’s friend makes it. Sally is an exceptional maker of preserves, jellies, canned veggies. You name it.”
“I’ve never had it.”
Morgan’s jaw dropped. She slathered the other piece of toast and handed it to her. “You have to.”
“I don’t have to,” Cara argued.
“Oh, just eat it. You won’t die. And I promise I’ll let you know if you put on any weight.”
Cara took the toast and smiled sweetly. “Very funny.” She took a bite, then another.
Morgan grinned and watched her. “Good, eh?”
“Yes, it is, actually. Apple butter?” She finished the toast, then took another piece of bacon. The sweetness of the jam mixed with the salty bacon, then coffee to wash it down. This could get very ugly, very fast. She felt her waistline expand.
Morgan sat back and regarded Cara. “Nope. You haven’t gained anything. You still have a great body.” She immediate
ly stopped. “I am sorry. I-I…”
Cara laughed. “It’s okay. I’m flattered. So, anyway. What are your plans for the day?”
“I have to go back to the resort and get my plane. It’s docked there. I couldn’t fly it in the storm last night. I’ve already checked the roads. They’re clear.”
“Was there a problem?”
“With all the wind and rain, the main road usually floods. And it was high when I arrived last night, but it’s fine this morning. Why don’t you come with me? Andy can drive us to Barry’s. I’ll show you around, then you and I can fly my plane back here.”
“Okay. I’d like to see the town and where you grew up.”
“Good enough. I’ll take you to all the hot spots.”
“Hot spots?”
“Okay, okay. Lukewarm. Go get your jacket. I’ll clean up.”
*******
Andy was a likable guy. He looked much younger than Morgan and was always smiling. And Andy was a chatterbox.
Cara sat in the backseat listening to Andy go on and on about the lake and the people and, of course, his hero, Morgan.
“Remember the time you scared the bear away from the planes?”
Morgan just nodded.
“What happened?” Cara asked.
“Well, ya see...” Andy looked back at Cara.
“Andy, eyes always forward,” Morgan warned, pointing straight ahead.
“Me and Morg were in the office. And all the sudden, a black bear lopes into the hangar with two cubs. Now anyone knows you don’t mess with a mama bear and her cubs.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, we didn’t want to hurt them, and I had no idea what to do. I was gonna get the rifle and just fire a few shots, but then Morg reminded me of the fuel and the tanks and all.”
Cara hid her grin; Morgan chuckled.
“One ricochet and we’d have gone up like the Fourth of July,” Morgan said.
“So, Morg gets a pan from the kitchen and a big ole wooden spoon and goes out there screaming like a banshee, banging on the pan until the bear ran away with her cubs right behind her.”
Morgan turned to look at Cara. “It was a big deal.”
“I can imagine.”
Morgan grinned and turned around. “And I’m sorry about your mother’s pan.”
“Yeah, you really put a dent in it.” Andy laughed. “She was okay with it, though. ’Specially since you bought her a whole new set. She still uses them, you know.”
“So, Andy, you grew up on the lake, as well?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. Couldn’t afford to go to college. I’ve always been good at mechanical things. Love to take things apart and see how they work.”
“And he got really good at putting them back together,” Morgan added.
“Yeah, it took a while.”
“I know. I remember stumbling over extra parts all over the floor of the hangar.”
Andy let out a genuine laugh. “I finally got them back in the engine.”
“All but one.”
“Hey, the prop didn’t fly off. You were fine.”
“Yeah. Who would have thought a teeny tiny washer would be so important?”
Cara leaned forward. “Are you kidding?”
They both laughed. “Nope.”
Andy pushed at Morgan’s shoulder. Cara could see a great friendship here.
“So, Morg gave me a job, and she paid for my mechanical schooling. After I graduated, she taught me how to fly and didn’t charge me a penny.”
“And he flies as good as I do.”
“I’ll never be that good.”
“Shut up,” Morgan said affectionately.
“I sure thought there’d be more damage from that storm.”
“I did too.” Morgan turned slightly. “We thought we’d never get those two off the island.”
“But they got them off okay. We found them, but we had to land at the resort. It was getting pretty dicey.”
“Dicey?” Cara asked.
“The lightning started,” Morgan said. “We had to land. We tried to land close to the island to get them, but it was too dangerous.”
“We radioed Barry, and he sent someone out to get them when the rain stopped. They saw us, so they knew we’d be coming back. Man, they were scared to death.”
“I don’t blame them,” Morgan said. “I was terrified when the lightning started.”
“You were scared?” Andy glanced at her.
“Hell, yeah. We were flying in a big metal box, over water. In the rain.”
“Huh. Who knew?”
Cara smiled, hearing the disbelief in his voice. She liked this young man.
Andy pulled onto a paved road in the deep woods. Cara was shocked when the resort came into view. Built with the ubiquitous logs, the resort stood on the shoreline. It was breathtaking. Cara then saw Morgan’s plane docked at the far end of the pier. At the other, there were pontoon boats, rowboats, and one speedboat. The water lapped up along the pier, showing just how much rain they got the night before.
“Morg!” An older man waved from the front deck of the lodge. Morgan waved in return.
“That’s Barry,” Andy said to Cara.
“Lake sure is high,” Morgan said. “Everybody all right?”
“Just fine. Thanks to all of you. Those two are still a little shaken. I think they’ll be spending the day close to the lodge.”
“I don’t blame them. Oh, this is Cara Pembroke. Cara, this is Barry Jensen. He owns the resort.”
“Oh,” Barry said with a smile. “The reporter?”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “I see you’ve talked to my mother.”
Barry shook Cara’s hand. “Yep. She told me the other day. So, Miss Pembroke, you’re going to write about Morgan?”
“That’s the plan. And please, call me Cara. No formality here. This resort is beautiful.”
“Thanks. Been in the family since the forties. My grandfather started it, and it’s been passed down to me. When I’m done, it’ll go to Ryan.” Barry looked around. “Wherever he is. Anyway, come here for your plane, Morg?”
“Yep.”
“Are you in a hurry? How about a cup of coffee?”
“Not for me, I got things to do,” Andy said. “See ya back at the office.”
The restaurant in the lodge was as charming as the outside. Cara had never seen so many log homes and buildings in her life. Rustic, rustic, rustic. Including the photos of customers with their trophy catches that lined the walls.
“Wow. That’s a big fish,” she said, peering at the photo of a man holding an enormous fish. His grin was almost as big.
“Oh, that was last year,” Barry said. “He’s from North Dakota. He had a great time.”
As Cara took in her surroundings, a woman appeared from the swinging doors.
“Morgan! Good morning. Here to pick up that monstrosity?” The woman laughed, drying her hands on a towel.
“Hi, Sal. Yeah, I’ll get it out of your way.”
Cara sat at a table by the large window overlooking the lake. There were a few customers scattered throughout the dining room.
“Sal, this is Cara Pembroke, she’s—”
“The reporter. I heard,” Sally said, beaming. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you. You gonna write an article about Morgan?”
“Nice to meet you too, Sally. Yes, that’s the plan. If I can get her to stand still.”
Sally sat with them. “You caught her on a busy day. Usually this time of year, we’re all winding down. Getting ready for the winter ahead. It comes early up here.”
“And stays too long,” Barry said. “Hey, honey. How about some coffee?”
Sal still regarded Cara. “Sure, babe. I’d love a cup. I’m sure Morgan and Cara would like some, as well. So, you’re from Chicago?”
Morgan groaned. “My mother must have talked to everyone on this lake.”
“She sure has. And why not? You’re a heroine, Morg. Saving those women like
that. And getting all banged up.”
“And yesterday didn’t help,” Barry said, returning with a pot of coffee and mugs. “How’s your side?”
“I’m fine.” Morgan poured a cup of coffee for Cara, then for herself. She picked up the empty creamer. “You’re out of cream.”
“Since when are you so picky?” Barry asked her. He then looked at Cara. “Oh, sorry.” He leaned over and grabbed a porcelain pitcher from another table.
Cara glanced at Sally, who watched them.
While stirring her coffee, Sally smiled. “So, Cara, tell us about yourself. Were you born in Chicago?”
Morgan narrowed her eyes at Sally, who ignored her.
“Yes, born and raised.” Cara blew at the hot cup of coffee. “I went to college there. I’ve worked for the Sentinel for six years. Before that, I worked in Milwaukee and in Philadelphia.”
“And if you’re really good, Sal, she can show you her diplomas and everything,” Morgan said.
Sally’s face turned a nice shade of crimson. Barry drank his coffee.
“I’m sorry,” Sally said sheepishly.
Cara laughed. “It’s all right, really. I don’t mind at all.”
Morgan finished her coffee. “Why don’t you grill Cara? I’ll go get the plane ready. That should give you plenty of time.” She looked at Cara. “I’ll be back in a few. Then we’ll get going.”
Cara watched her walk out of the dining room.
“So, what do you want to know about Morgan?” Sally asked quickly.
Barry groaned. “Sal…”
Sally waved him off. “Oh, go make out with Morgan.”
He gave Cara an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’re getting to know each other. And I do need some background information. I have a feeling Morgan won’t be very forthcoming.”
“That’s putting it mildly. She hates talking about herself. I think that’s why Betty called your newspaper. I think she did it to get Morgan off this lake.”
“Why?”
When Sally hesitated, Cara waited. She hoped Morgan wouldn’t come back too soon.
“As I’ve said to Betty, I would never use anything without complete consent from you. And Morgan will read it before I print it. I’d never want you to betray a confidence, or—”
“What do you know about Morgan? I mean, her lifestyle and…”
Cara held up her hand. “I know she’s gay.” Cara leaned forward. “So am I. And if that matters—”