Secrets, Lies, and Online Dating: Three Generations Learn to Love Again (Women's Fiction)

by Sylvia McDaniel

  It was cold, the sun had yet to come up, yet here she sat, bundled, waiting. The sputter of an engine and the splashing of a boat making its way through the early morning fog had her peering into the darkness.

  A glimmer of light could be seen poking its way over the horizon, chasing away the night shadows.

  “Ahoy,” he called. “I’m looking for a good-looking babe to take fishing.”

  Oh the man was quite the charmer. She was going to have to watch him or find herself in his arms.

  “Sorry, you’re stuck with me,” she said, picking up her tackle box and fishing poles. “We won’t be sitting out in middle of the lake in this fog, will we?”

  “Nope, as long as I miss the stumps we’ll be sitting in a cove.”

  He held out his hand and helped her step on board the boat.

  “Stumps? Oh joy, nothing like a little adventure on a cold morning with the possibility of a swim.”

  “I just told you that so you’d cuddle up next to me when you get scared.”

  She laughed, shaking her head at him, wondering if he knew how much she enjoyed being with him. “There are better ways to get me to cuddle.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “Later. The fish are getting away.”

  He stood and peered over the windshield of the boat to see through the fog. He put the boat in reverse and backed away from the dock. Swiftly, he turned the wheel and directed the boat across the smooth water.

  In the predawn mist, they were the only souls on the lake. A sense of peace settled over Brenda as the boat skimmed the still water.

  He drove slowly. “The fog makes it quiet.”

  “Isn’t it great?” she said. “Kind of eerie and spooky, but kind of soothing.”

  He glanced at her and smiled. “I thought I was the only one who enjoyed the different seasons.”

  “Oh no, I like it when Mother Nature gives us a little surprise. All except tornados. That’s where I draw the line. She can keep those.”

  “My wife always loved this time of year, because the leaves were changing, the temperatures were cooler, and it was right before the holidays.”

  He’d never told her much about his wife. Just mentioned her in passing and yet Brenda recognized the sound of sadness in his voice when he talked about her.

  “Yeah, George always wanted to go fishing in the fall. He said all the water skiers were gone and the lake was quiet.”

  Paul turned the boat into a cove. “Okay, you are sworn to secrecy about this place. This is my baited fishing hole.”

  She chuckled and gazed at him like he was crazy. The sun was just starting to rise and she knew that soon the quiet peace would be interrupted by other fishermen. “And who would I tell?”

  “I don’t know, but you should feel honored. You’re the first woman I’ve brought to my fishing spot.”

  “When do I receive the promise ring?”

  Startled, he glanced at her his eyes wide. Then he realized she was kidding. “God, woman, don’t scare me like that. I thought you were serious.”

  Brenda laughed. “I noticed that. Kind of skittish, are you, on the topic of promise rings?”

  “I’m a little old for such nonsense.” He killed the engine and threw an anchor overboard. The splash rippled the water and sent a bird fluttering on the shoreline. “The only thing I can promise you is to catch a lot of fish.”

  “At this time in my life, that’s all I need.”

  He smiled. “But you still can’t tell anyone where my fishing hole is.”

  “Shut up and hand me the minnow bucket. I’ve got to get my hook in the water and catch the first fish before you.”

  He handed the bucket of minnows to her. “When we reach twenty, we go home.”

  She dropped her line over the side of the boat and sat back, quietly contemplating the joy of the moment. “You know, George and I used to always bet with one another. Whoever caught the most didn’t have to clean them and whoever caught the biggest had to…”

  She laughed at the memory and glanced over at Paul. It was so easy to talk to him about George and she knew they would have been friends.

  “You didn’t finish that.”

  “And I’m not going to.”

  “Sounds very interesting.”

  “No, it was fun. We always had a good time together.”

  “That’s the way it was with my Marjorie. Don’t you feel lucky to have had a good marriage and have so many happy memories?”

  She glanced over at Paul who had finished baiting his line and was gazing at her, a smile on his face.

  “Yes, I was very lucky, and I guess that’s why I’d like to get married again, but I’m afraid. I don’t know if I could be so lucky the second time.”

  So many people were unhappy or in bad relationships and she just didn’t know if she would be so fortunate a second time around.

  He dropped his line in the water. “Yeah, I know. With the divorce rate as high as it is, how could you be so blessed to have two good marriages?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “Sometimes, George and I would have a disagreement and occasionally we’d have a knock down fight. Nothing physical, but oh how we made up afterwards.”

  “Marjorie could freeze me out when I pissed her off,” Paul said, smiling at the memory. “But Lord all that woman had to do was ask for something she needed and I would give her the moon. We had a great life together and I miss her.”

  Brenda felt a stirring in her chest, it wasn’t often a man expressed strong emotions about a woman, especially his wife. It was obvious he’d loved her very much.

  A tapping on her line had her focused on fishing again. She waited. The fish took the hook and she turned the reel. Excited she began to pull the fish in. “I’ve got one.”

  She reeled and reeled until she pulled the fish up and into the boat.

  “Humph! Not bad, but not big either.”

  “Hey, it’s the first one. I’m just warming up.”

  For the next two hours, they laughed, told stories, and caught fish. Brenda couldn’t remember having such a good time. Soon they had caught twenty fish, ending their morning together.

  Paul started rolling in his line. “That’s twenty, it’s time to go.”

  “Oh, are you sure we’ve caught twenty?” Brenda said, dismayed. “I know it is, but this was so much fun.”

  “We’ll come again,” he assured her.

  She began to reel her line in, not ready to end her morning with Paul. She was having fun. She enjoyed being with him.

  “It’s only nine o’clock. Why don’t we go back to my place and I’ll make breakfast?”

  She trusted Paul enough to invite him to her camper. And she was looking forward to feeding him. She liked to cook and had no one to share her meals with.

  He finished pulling in the anchor and put it in a plastic box. He glanced over at her.

  “I’m starved. What do you have in mind?”

  “I make a mean southwestern style omelet.”

  “The meaner they are, the more I like 'em,” he said, gazing at her, his eyes wide in mock anticipation.

  “You’re in store for a treat,” she promised him.

  He laid her fishing poles in the boat. The sun had risen and burned off the early morning fog, clearing the lake. He started the engine, and when the motor caught, he put it in gear. They bounced across the lake, the cool wind whipping at her hair.

  Soon they pulled alongside the dock and he tied the boat. He stepped onto the dock and reached back to help her.

  Their hands touched and he pulled her up onto the dock. When her feet were firmly planted, she turned, and they were shoulder to shoulder, face to face, and eye to eye. They seem to fit together perfectly.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed in his brown eyes and could see the passion stirring there. She met his lips part way. It wasn’t a fervent tongue-down-your-throat kiss, just a simple tasting and testing of one another. His lips grazed hers and her arms reac
hed to wrap around him, pressing her breasts into his chest.

  He felt strong and he tasted like a sweet spice. Desire, frozen so long within her, suddenly jump-started back to life. Happiness filled the empty void inside her. She hadn’t known if she would ever experience that emotion again.

  The sound of a boat caused him to step out of her arms. She smiled. So he wasn’t into public displays of affection, so what?

  “That was the best catch of the morning,” she said.

  He grinned at her. “I’m going to drive the boat around to my camping spot. I’ll be at your place in just a few minutes.”

  Brenda all but danced back to her camper. Humming happily, she began to cook breakfast. Soon the eggs were done and there was still no sight of Paul. She looked out the door, anxiously waiting. Time moved slowly and she began to worry about him. What if something had happened?

  Thirty minutes later, she turned off the warmer and strode out the door. When she walked over to his camper, she found him busily packing everything up. He was almost ready to pull out.

  “Hey, I thought you were coming over for breakfast,” she said, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.

  “Sorry, something’s come up. I’ve got to return to Dallas.”

  “Did that kiss frighten you so bad, you decided to run?” she asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  He stopped his hurried motions and stared at her. “No, nothing like that. My son called and told me I needed to get home. I’m sorry, Brenda. I’ve got to go.”

  He threw the last things into the boat and walked around to the front of the camper.

  She stood uncertain, disappointment choking her.

  “I’ll be back in a day or two. Don’t go anywhere. Wait for me.”

  “Maybe,” she said, unable to commit.

  “No, maybe. I’ll be back soon.” He paused at the door. He brushed his lips against hers and climbed into the cab of the camper. “I have no choice, I’ve got to go.”

  He started the engine and she watched as he pulled out of the spot.

  “Damn! That’s a first,” she said. “Kiss a man and he runs.”

  Marianne sat in a chair by the window overlooking the big back yard. The sun shone brightly, not a cloud in the sky. It was an absolutely gorgeous fall day, the kind that made her long to be outside. The weatherman had said today the high would climb to near sixty-five degrees before another cold spell came through tomorrow. She ached to go to the park, to go for a walk, to take a drive into the mountains, to share this day with someone. Instead, she read her English textbook and tried to convince herself she was being a good student.

  A knock at the door startled her. She jumped up and hurried to the portal. Luke stood there in his motorcycle leathers.

  “Hi,” he said, looking like a Greek god, his muscles firm, his arm leaning against the frame.

  “Hi,” she responded, her pulse accelerating at the sight of this fine specimen of a man. She got a little breathless each time she saw him.

  “I’m taking the bike for a ride into the Mountains. I thought maybe you’d like to go along.”

  Most of her school work was done and what wasn’t, could wait. She deserved an outing. Especially a ride through the mountains on the back of his motorcycle.

  Marianne glanced at the textbook in her hand. “When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as you’re ready.”

  She paused for just a moment, knowing she should stay, but needing a break.

  “Yes, I can’t sit inside here a moment longer and read this textbook.”

  He laughed. “It’s too pretty a day to pass up. We’ll be back in plenty of time for you to read later.”

  “How do I need to dress?”

  Luke gazed at her jeans and sweatshirt. “You’re fine. You’ll need a jacket. It will be cooler on the bike. When we’re up in the mountains, it will be a lot cooler.”

  She laid the textbook on her desk and grabbed her coat. She put her keys, some money and a lipstick in her coat pocket.

  “I’m ready,” she said, standing before him.

  He laughed. “That’s the quickest I’ve ever seen a woman get ready.”

  “I’m a little burned-out sitting inside and studying. I’m ready to escape for a while.” They went out the door and she locked it behind her.

  “I haven’t seen you coming in late lately. In fact, your car has been home a lot.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve put my classes ahead of my social life up until today. I’m not even hanging with my friend, Paige, much anymore.”

  After Stuart, she’d decided it was time to make her studies her priority and put her social life on the back burner. In fact, she didn’t ever intend to live the life that Paige lived and she was giving up even trying.

  Luke straddled the bike and backed it out of the garage. Then he handed her a helmet. “That’s probably for the best.”

  “This is my only break until Thanksgiving.”

  “Then we better make this a good one. Climb on.”

  He checked her helmet straps to make sure they were tight and then climbed on the bike. He started it up and pulled out of the drive onto the street.

  Marianne wrapped her arms snuggly around his waist and hung on as they turned a corner. A cool breeze blew against her and she was glad for the coat.

  Luke was a watchful driver as he drove them onto the highway and turned onto the road that led up into the mountains. The two-lane road began a slow ascent, the smell of pine trees and spruce had her breathing in the clean, crisp air, clearing her brain.

  The natural beauty soothed her in ways nothing else could. Though the mountain breeze was cold, Luke took the brunt of the wind, shielding her with his body. She leaned into his strong back, the masculine scent of him causing a flutter in her stomach.

  The last snow had rid most of the trees of their leaves, but a few aspens still had gold leaves clinging. A doe and her fawn watched from a safe distance on the side of the road as they rumbled past.

  After an hour, they reached the town of Estes Park. Luke pulled over at a restaurant and turned off the bike.

  He took off his helmet. “I thought maybe we’d have some lunch while we’re here.”

  “Good, I’m starved.”

  He helped her with her helmet and locked them on a peg. He took her elbow and led her into the restaurant that had an outside patio eating area. Soon they were seated and she picked up a menu. She stared at her hands, they felt like they still trembled from the bike.

  “My hands are vibrating. I feel like I’m still on the cycle.”

  He took her hand in his and held it for a moment. “Nope. They’re a little cold.”

  His hand was warm and the texture of his skin rough against her own. He didn’t release her, but continued to hold her hand.

  “What’s good here?” she asked, enjoying the feel of his touch, but nervous about the possible meaning.

  “My favorite is the buffalo burger.”

  “Buffalo?” Marianne asked, startled.

  “Yeah, it’s different.”

  “I see they have a turkey burger,” she said.

  “That’s good, too.”

  “Do you like weird food?” she asked.

  “I like to try new things. Life is about adventure and I want to experience as much as I can while I’m here,” he said thoughtfully.

  This was the attitude she wanted to adopt. To experience, life at its fullest and yet in a sensible way. All the partying hadn’t fit her and it was okay to be focused on her dreams.

  She smiled at him. “That’s the kind of attitude I am looking to adopt. I want to try new things. I’ll take a buffalo burger.”

  “You’ll be surprised that the meat is not that different in flavor,” he said, gazing at her.

  “We’ll see.”

  When the waitress approached them, they both ordered coffee and a buffalo burger with sweet potato fries. It was the first time they had sat across from another. For a
moment, Marianne felt awkward.

  “Tell me about your classes at the college,” she asked him. “What do you teach?”

  “I teach Philosophy to juniors and Politics to seniors.”

  She couldn’t imagine standing in front of young people and discussing politics with them in a way that hopefully they would listen to with an open mind. So many times their families and even television had already set their political values.

  “Impressive.”

  “Thank you. I enjoy teaching and I especially delight in the type of lifestyle it affords me.”

  “Tell me what you love about teaching?”

  He thought for a moment. “I like to show young men and women that there are different ways to look at things in life. I try to open their minds to different philosophers and teach them the different perspectives.”

  “Sounds complicated.”

  “It is and I enjoy it.”

  “You teach politics?”

  He smiled. “It’s my favorite subject. And my students are required to help a political campaign. They need to get involved and they must be a registered voter to be in my class.”

  He was an interesting man and she liked that he seemed calm and rational and not trying to sell people on his life values.

  She laughed. “Do you take them to the polls?”

  “Nope. How they vote is their business, but I encourage debate in my classes and participation in the political process,” he said enthusiastically.

  “Sounds like you like your job very much.”

  “I do,” he said. “Tell me how you came to be at Fort Collins University at this time in your life.”

  He was asking her about her life and that made her feel good. How many men had she met who wanted to know about her? Most of the time it seemed they just wanted to get into her pants. And she didn’t have time any longer to deal with jerks like that. She was done.

  “You mean you want to know why an old lady is going back to college?”

  “I didn’t say that. People return to school at all ages. I had a sixty-seven year old in my class last semester and she was one of my best students.”

  “Well, I’m not sixty-seven yet. In my previous life I was a homemaker. When I separated from my husband, I realized I had no marketable skills. And I didn’t think working at a big box store would support me in the lifestyle I wanted.”