Cabin by the Lake

by Desiree Douglas

  “Yes.”

  “Names?”

  “Cruella de Vil and Hannibal Lecter.”

  She laughed. “No fair!”

  “That’s four. Next.”

  “Hmmm, I see you’re playing hardball. Let’s see. Have you ever been married?”

  “No.” He sat up and poked the fire with a stick, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky. “Have you?”

  “No,” she said before thinking, and then protested: “Hey, I’m asking the questions.”

  He threw the stick into the fire and leaned toward her, braced on one arm. “My turn.”

  “That was just five questions,” she said, feeling electricity shoot through her at his sudden nearness. Alarm bells went off in her head, and she found it very difficult to think with him being so close. The left side of his face was in near darkness, while the right side was highlighted by the flickering fire.

  “New game. We’re playing Five Questions now. Are you ready?”

  “Ready?” she whispered, mesmerized by the light reflected in his golden eyes.

  “Ready for my questions.” A small smile played on his lips.

  She was glad it was dark so he couldn’t see the flush creep into her cheeks. Her thoughts were completely out of control. She just wished he wasn’t so close. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “Sure. New game. Five Questions. Shoot.”

  He looked at her for a long moment. Then he reached up and slid a finger down her cheek.

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  “I guess I have only one question,” he said, leaning forward. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

  She didn’t have a verbal answer. They slowly drew together, their lips touching lightly, a quick, sweet kiss that left her wanting more.

  “You cheat,” she whispered against his cheek.

  “You caught me.” He moved his mouth over hers in a gentle but thorough kiss. If she’d been standing, she thought her knees would have buckled from weakness. She felt that she wanted this moment to go on forever. But all too soon he pulled away, leaving her head spinning.

  He put his arm around her and they turned toward the fire, her head resting on his shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, just listening to the popping of the sticks and the croaking of frogs in the distance.

  Reluctant to break the spell, she finally said, “I have to get up early for work tomorrow. Guess I should be getting back.”

  He seemed equally reluctant to remove his arm from around her. Before he released her, he said, “I like the games you play. Let me know when you’re up for a little Truth or Dare.”

  She laughed, rising and brushing the dirt from her pants. “Not likely. Not now that I know what a cheater you are.”

  He offered his hand, which she took, feeling like she was in a dream as they walked back to the house. Suddenly she stopped and looked over her shoulder.

  “What is it?” He followed her gaze into the darkness.

  “I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. Just a weird feeling that somebody is watching me. I keep having that feeling.”

  He studied the darkened landscape. “Maybe it’s Malcolm and Liz,” he said lightly.

  She smiled. “Maybe. And maybe I’m just paranoid.”

  “Anything in particular you want to share that’s making you feel paranoid?” he casually asked.

  She immediately thought of Rocco, and she didn’t know why his name would suddenly pop into her head. Rocco was in prison. She was safe. Still, when the thought entered her mind, she shivered.

  “Cold?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close as they walked. It felt natural as she automatically slipped her arm around his waist, leaning into the fit of his warm body against hers. She felt safe in his arms, but the thought of Rocco was like a splash of cold water in her face, dispelling the magical feel of the evening.

  “I think we’ve done enough sharing for one night,” she said with a feigned brightness that she no longer felt. “Thanks for walking me back.”

  “No problem.” He reached for the dog as he walked up the steps. The collie seemed to have found a home on the porch and seldom left it since it got there.

  She bent over, giving its neck a rub. “What’s your name, fella, huh? Maybe we should just call him Dog,” she said, standing up.

  “You mean like in that old John Wayne movie?”

  “Yeah,” she said, delighted that he knew that one. “Are you a fan of The Duke?”

  “Well, I guess you could say that, ma’am,” he said in his best John Wayne impression.

  She laughed. “Not bad. Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Pilgrim. Are you coming in?”

  “No, I’m getting an early start tomorrow with some demo in the kitchen, if that’s okay with Vivian, so I think I’m going to call it a night.”

  “Well, good night, then,” she said, suddenly feeling a school-girl awkwardness, hoping for another kiss.

  “Good night.” He bent his head and gave her a quick peck on the lips. Then another lingering kiss, before slowly pulling away. He smiled and disappeared into the darkness, leaving her with spaghetti legs and a head full of confusion.

  She let herself into the house. There was no sign of her aunt, and she supposed Vivian had already gone to bed. She locked the doors, turned out the lights and went upstairs. She showered to wash the wood smoke out of her hair and tried to settle down. But she couldn’t get Rocco off her mind.

  That man had ruined her life. She often wondered how she could have been so stupid. At first her mother had loved the fact that he drove a Porsche and seemed successful. But it wasn’t as if Katie had any fabulous insight into men. By the time Lydia met Rocco, Katie had been on her fourth husband. The fact that her mother initially liked him should have given her a heads-up.

  Rocco was eight years older than her, and seemed so worldly and confident. He threw around money like it was going out of style and she got caught up in the excitement of expensive gifts and spur-of-the-moment trips. One day Rocco gave her a package, a baby gift wrapped with pink ribbon, and asked her to drop it by an address on her way to class. That was the day everything had come crashing down. It wasn’t until she was arrested that she discovered that the “baby gift” she had delivered actually contained cocaine.

  She had never felt so betrayed in her life. He was using her; a wedding gift dropped off here, a birthday present there—she had been sure he was the most thoughtful man she’d ever met. How wrong could one person be? She had never done drugs herself, and she never saw Rocco using drugs, so why would she ever suspect anything like that?

  There had been plenty of drinking, though. She was feeling young and wild, enjoying the freedom of college life to the hilt. Shortly before she realized she might be flunking out, she met Rocco and the party life was kicked up a notch. Fun, fun, fun!

  No more stepfather holding the purse strings while she dodged grabby hands. She was free and had her own man, and he was taking care of her just fine. Looking back, she couldn’t believe her behavior, her blindness to the consequences of her actions.

  As if it were a perfect storm in the making, Uncle Todd and Aunt Vivian had come for a visit, and they were there when her mother found out she was flunking out of school. It was in the middle of a backyard barbecue, and she and Rocco arrived in his Porsche. She was flippant about the news, wanting to discuss it later, but Katie was instantly raging.

  “What do you mean, you’re flunking out?” Her eyes narrowed, and she turned her attention toward Rocco. He looked out of place in his flashy clothes and jewelry, and Katie was suddenly sure that he was the one responsible for Lydia’s bad behavior.

  “Is he the reason you’re flunking out of school?”

  “She’s a grown woman,” Rocco inserted, in an infuriatingly cool tone. “She does what she wants.”

  “She’s barely nineteen,” Katie spat. “She does what I want because I pay her bills.”

  “You always throw that in my face,” Lydia said, s
ounding more like she was nine than nineteen. “You can keep your money from now on. I’m quitting school.”

  Katie was incredulous. She drained her wine glass in one gulp. “No, you’re not!”

  “Yes, I am!” She nodded emphatically.

  Vivian, in an effort to change the subject and salvage the situation, asked Rocco, “So, what is it exactly that you do for a living?”

  “I’m a businessman,” he said, adjusting the sleeves of his shiny sport coat.

  “Oh? And what kind of business are you in?”

  “I’m in the business of making money,” he replied bluntly, glancing around in a bored fashion, dismissing Vivian as someone beneath his interest.

  She looked at her niece, expecting her to try and smooth over her friend’s rudeness, but Lydia was still smarting from her spat with Katie and seemed to be sulking.

  Vivian felt sorry for her. Poor girl, she was trying so hard to become her own woman, to separate herself from Katie’s control. But she didn’t like the looks of Rocco, nor the fact that he seemed to have only one name. She also didn’t like the way he was dressed. His clothes were obviously expensive, but he reminded her of a peacock, strutting around as if he owned the place. She was afraid Lydia was headed for trouble, hanging around with this character.

  Lydia may have ignored Rocco’s rudeness, but Katie zeroed in on him. “Well, Mr. Businessman, is there some reason we shouldn’t know what you do for a living?”

  “Mother!” Lydia warned.

  “How old are you, anyway?” Katie demanded.

  “Too old to put up with this,” Rocco said, grabbing Lydia’s arm.

  Katie snatched her daughter’s other arm and jerked her back. “You’re not going anywhere with him. Why can’t you be more like Brittany?” she shrieked, waving her empty wine glass toward her older daughter. “You just love to cause problems and make my life miserable!”

  “Mom!” Brittany tried to interrupt the tirade. Normally she wouldn’t have bothered to involve herself in the ongoing disputes between her mother and her sister, but this was getting embarrassing. Her fiancé, Rob (Robert Van Landingham, III, to be precise—and Brittany liked to be precise), was here, and this ruckus had the makings of a low-class backyard brawl, which she wanted to avoid at all cost. Like her mother, she believed appearances were everything!

  “Stay out of this, Brittany,” Katie shouted, turning back to Lydia. “You’re so selfish. You think only of yourself! You are the reason my last marriage broke up!”

  There was an audible gasp from the onlookers, and her current husband looked extremely uncomfortable.

  Vivian strode forward, speaking in a low, authoritative tone. “Calm down, Katie. That’s not true, and you know it. Let’s try to stay on point here.” She slipped her arm through Lydia’s and tried to lead her away, but her action only further incensed Katie.

  “Don’t you mollycoddle her,” Katie snapped. “That’s her problem. She’s been babied too much and she’s a spoiled brat, just like she’s always been!”

  Vivian smiled valiantly, even if it was strained, and waved her hand in the air toward the grill. “The burgers are burning.” Most people took the hint and had the decency to move away and at least pretend not to be listening.

  Rocco stood by Lydia’s side, but obviously wanted to be anywhere else but there. “Let’s split,” he said, expecting her to obey him, as always, but Vivian stepped between them.

  “What your mother is trying to say,” she began in a low voice, “is that we love you and only want the best for you.” She turned her back to Rocco. “You’re smart, Lydia. I—we—don’t want you to flush your education down the toilet.”

  Lydia was so humiliated she couldn’t see straight. Her mother had always had the upper hand, bullying her throughout her life. She snapped, taking her anger out on the closest person to her, because she just couldn’t take it out on her mother.

  “Mind your own business!” she shouted.

  Vivian looked as if she had been slapped, and her face flamed red with anger. Never had this sweet girl talked to her that way.

  Lydia should have stopped there. If only she had.

  “Go back home to your perfect life where you don’t have any kids to make your life miserable!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she saw the look of hurt on her aunt’s face, but she couldn’t take back her hateful words.

  Vivian was suddenly very still, her eyes cold. Of all the devastating things to throw in her face; her inability to have children! She pointed a finger at Lydia’s chest and said quietly, “That’s unforgiveable, Lydia.”

  “Good!” she shouted. “I don’t need you butting into my life!”

  “Trust me; it will never happen again. I’m done with you.” Vivian turned on her heel and walked away.

  And that was how they left it. Vivian always regretted her own words, spoken in anger. She didn’t really mean them. She saw the hurt in Lydia’s eyes when she spoke but, like her niece, she couldn’t take it back. She had no real intention of shutting her out of her life permanently, and had no idea how that day could have ended so badly.

  Lydia fled the fiasco with Rocco. He was angry and made it known that her family had disrespected him. She was devastated at the turn of events, but when she was arrested just days later, her opinion of Rocco changed. And the most hurtful thing of the whole ordeal was the fact that she and Vivian had not spoken to each other until she showed up on her aunt’s doorstep a few days ago.

  Now, she sat up irritably and punched her pillow to plump it. She hated it when she couldn’t turn her mind off, when thoughts kept circling around and around. I should have done this. I should have said that. I wish… I wish... Lord, she had beaten herself up enough over the years for the wrongs she had done. At least she and Vivian had put the past to rest, and she was extremely thankful for that. She and her mother had developed an uneasy truce, which she could live with.

  It was just the Rocco thing that brought it all back, and she was exhausted from mentally rehashing unpleasant memories. She fell into a uneasy sleep and dreamed terrible things, which she would not remember in the morning.

  As Lydia was drifting into sleep, Mike stood on the path to the cabin and watched the house long after the lights were turned off. He had not intended to kiss her. Chalk it up to getting carried away in the moment. What with the moon rising above the water, the chill in the air, and the firelight—not to mention the beautiful woman next to him whom he found almost irresistible—who could blame him for his impulsive actions? He was only human.

  He shook his head and expelled a disgusted sigh. What was he thinking, getting involved with someone at this point in his life? It wasn’t fair to her. He was a grown man, and should be capable of holding his feelings in check.

  But everything about her was appealing to him. He found her sense of humor childlike in its simplicity, and enchanting. She could hold her own in conversation and her wit was refreshing. He felt more alive in the last few days than he’d felt in a long time. The feeling of her lips on his lingered in his mind, and it had been with a will of steel that he ended that last kiss. He’d had to. He could not afford to complicate his life right now. And he sure couldn’t—wouldn’t!—play with her feelings. He’d acted the fool and toyed with a sweet spirit that didn’t deserve to be led on, when he wasn’t sure what the future held for him.

  He wondered at how his life had gone off the rails. And if he’d ever get back on track; back to responsibilities that were overwhelming at times. But did he want that? Since he’d been on this walkabout, especially since being here with Vivian and Lydia, he’d come to feel a calmness within that felt so good, so invigorating. He hadn’t felt the need for a glass of aged Scotch to take the edge off a stressful day since he left North Carolina.

  Thinking of bad habits, he was reminded of his ex-girlfriend, Kendall. She had called multiple times, despite his warning that he wouldn’t be taking any calls for a while, and left sweet, concerned messages a
t first. Then the messages began sounding strident to his ears and he started to wonder more and more what he ever saw in her. Finally, she left hysterical messages, exaggerated threats of suicide—which he found amusing, because Kendall loved no one more than herself—and vowed to never speak to him again.

  He felt a sense of relief with that message. Maybe that one problem would just resolve itself.

  He could see the glowing embers of the fire as he approached the cabin and thought he should get a container from the kitchen to douse the coals. Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement by the cabin porch. He crouched quietly and watched the area, keeping his eyes focused away from the fire light to protect his night vision. He heard movement crashing through the undergrowth behind the cabin. A bear, maybe? He was beginning to think it was some night creature when he heard a car engine start up on the road above the cabin.

  There was a boat landing a couple hundred yards up the road. Maybe some boaters had lost their direction in the dark and come through. Maybe. He wondered about Lydia’s feeling of being watched. He retrieved his flashlight from the cabin, but could see nothing much amid the leafy groundcover. He’d have a closer look in the morning.

  Meanwhile, he resolved to keep an eye out for any strange characters around. He had been correct about Vivian being armed and dangerous. She informed him during their first private conversation, when they were both putting all their cards on the table, that she kept a shotgun handy—a gift from her mother, she’d said—and she knew how to use it. He was amused at the time, but now it seemed prudent.

  He didn’t know what was going on with Lydia, but if she was in any danger, he felt confident that between Vivian’s shotgun and his watchful eye, they could keep her safe. He also had the feeling that Lydia just might be the kind of woman who could take care of herself pretty well. Paranoid? He didn’t think so. Cautious? He thought that was a spot-on assessment.

  Chapter 9

  Rocco cursed savagely as he clawed his way through briars and bushes on his way back up to the road. He cursed himself for not preparing properly. He had not meant to be caught out in the woods after dark without a flashlight, but that nauseating scene around the campfire had mesmerized him, and now he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. It wasn’t like him to be unprepared.