by S. E. Rose
I make my way back to my cottage and am greeted by a tired and desperately-in-need-of-affection cat who meows his disapproval at me when I enter the door. “Sorry, Hags,” I say, putting down my bags and picking him up. He purrs in my arms and nuzzles his head against my chest. I kiss his forehead and then place him down, pulling out the cat food bowl I bought and tossing in a handful of food from the bag, which I only hope is a type he will like.
He chows down, so I did well. I take my time putting away groceries making note of a few more essential items to pick up next time I’m in town, but my current stash will do just fine for the next few days. I finish putting away a few last items from my suitcases and then stick them in the guestroom and look out the French doors at the path beyond. A walk would be good, clear my head and get me ready to focus on a late afternoon of writing.
I put back on a sweater and decide there is no need to lock up as I haven’t seen a single person on the path all day and I won’t go too far. The sea breeze is cool, but the sight is beautiful. I close my eyes at the end of the cottage path and take in the audio of the waves crashing before getting on the coastal pathway. I naturally veer to my left and head down in the direction of town. I can see the castle in the distance and remember visiting it when I was last here. I walk for a few minutes more and about a half mile down the path, I come to a large rock just off to the left. I sit down on it and stare out at the sea and down at the rocky coastline. I close my eyes again and breathe in deeply. Yes, this is just where I need to be at this very moment. Eventually, I make myself head back to the cottage and I grab the loaf of bread and the blue cheese and lay them out with my laptop on the kitchen table so I can have a view of the sea while I type and eat. I spend the rest of the evening working on my book, and by 9:00 p.m., I yawn and realize that I’m exhausted. I shut down the laptop and place the remaining bread in a baggie and cheese in the fridge. I wash my face and brush my teeth and toss on some old yoga pants and a t-shirt before climbing into bed. I’m asleep before my head even hits the pillow.
Chapter 5
Laura’s Playlist: “Bittersweet Symphony” by The Verve
The sound of seagulls and waves wakes me. The recognition of where I am at brings a smile to my face. I decide to set up my laptop at the desk in my room. Sitting down, my eyes are drawn out the window and I know that I need to go for a walk. I throw on a sports bra, new shirt, and my sneakers and decide to skip locking up. Seriously, there’s no one out here and it is 6:30 in the morning. I look out at the path before me, left or right. I chose left again. My city girl mentality tells me to stay closer to the people and this direction is towards town. So I set off and decide to jog a bit. It isn’t long before I come across the giant rock near the path. I can’t help myself; I jump up on it and stand for a moment casting my eyes around and soaking in the beautiful vision that beholds me. With an internal smile, I know that I have found my meditation location. I’ve been meditating for years, especially since taking up writing. After Sean died, I went through a long bout of depression. I ended up quitting my job and my second therapist encouraged me to write. Somehow, my writing turned into a book and then two books and then a contract with a publisher. Between losing myself in meditation and my stories, I was able to climb out of the hole I had dug and start to live again. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve been feeling more positive and stronger lately than I have in the longest of times.
I sit down and close my eyes and my mind goes blank. I am all feeling and senses as I breathe in deeply and find myself centered and calm. I am so in my zone that a sudden sound to my right makes me jump and my eyes flash open to find a man approaching me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he mumbles.
“That’s OK,” I say. Then recognition floods my mind and I realize that this is Jack, the man I met yesterday.
“Jack?” I ask after a brief pause. I can see in his eyes that it takes a nanosecond for the recognition to register for him.
“Ahhh, the American,” he chuckles. “How’s the cottage treating you, Laura?”
“Fine, thanks,” I say.
“Well, then, I’ll leave you to it,” he says with a warm smile and nod and he’s off.
“See you!” I call after him and he turns and waves as he continues on his way.
It takes me a few minutes to get back in my zone. After a while, I come out of it on my own and decide to head back and start on my work. I get lost in my story. Aside from grabbing some cheese and crackers and a glass of wine around 2:00 p.m., I don’t come up for air until 7:30 that evening. I decide to finish the cheese and loaf with another two glasses of wine while sitting on the patio that faces the sea. I FaceTime with my kids and then make my way to bed to find Hagrid already fast asleep. I push him over to make room and he yowls at me before resettling himself. I cuddle up with him and fall asleep.
The next few days go somewhat the same, until later in the week, when I find that I have begun to run low on provisions. I ignore an email from my editor asking to see my progress and decide it’s time for another trip into town.
This time I decide to stop for a bite to eat and a Snakebite at the pub that Mal had recommended. I eat alone at the bar, chitchatting with the bartender, a guy named Danny who seems nice enough. He’s from Aberdeen and we laugh about the accents up that way. I finish up and head over to replenish my stocks at the local market before making my way to Mal’s place. As I swing the door open, I hear her calling out to me, “Hey there, welcome back.”
“Hi,” I say with a smile. “I had to replenish my provisions.”
“Well, what will it be today?” she asks as she wipes her hands on her apron. “May I suggest some Roquefort that I just got in?”
“Sounds delectable,” I say. “And thanks for the pub recommendation, I just ate lunch there and it was great.”
“Hard to go wrong at any pub!” She laughs. “As long as the lager is flowing and the chips are crispy.”
“True, very true,” I say.
I pick out several cheeses and breads and Mal mentions that the pub has a trivia night every Tuesday if I ever get bored up at the cottage. I tell her I’ll have to come to one, just because. She laughs that maybe her team might win with a worldly American on it, to which I burst out laughing. And with that, I am on my way back to Seaview Cottage. I pull up to find Jack out front watering flowers.
“Well, hello there,” I greet him. “I wondered how the garden stayed so beautiful.”
“Yes, she’s not a bad little garden, but just one week without some TLC and she can get a bit unruly,” he says. “I reckon, I have made a new friend.” And he nods to the windowsill where Hagrid is sitting and watching him.
“That’s Hagrid,” I say. “He’s a great travel companion, but a lousy watch cat.” I grin as Hagrid tucks his head back down and closes his eyes.
“So, you enjoying your time here?” he asks. As I take a few steps closer to him I see those amazing green eyes again. They are mesmerizing and I try not to stare.
“It’s lovely up here, very peaceful,” I say. “It’s been a great place to get some work done.”
“You’re working up here?” he questions. “IT work? I can’t imagine there are many jobs you could do with just the Wi-Fi out here.”
“True.” I laugh. “I’m a writer.”
“Well done, you,” he says. “News, books?”
“Books, well, novels really,” I say.
“Any that I might know?” he replies, looking at me intently, so intently that I blank for a moment before realizing I haven’t answered. I name a few books. He clearly doesn’t know them. I ask if he’d like a cup of tea and he nods and thanks me before saying he’ll finish up and come in to help. Then he realizes that I have groceries and before I know it he is beside me and hauling bags into my kitchen. He notes the unlocked door and tells me that I really ought to lock up when I’m not here.
“There are more strangers out here than you’d think,” he states. I just nod
and go about making tea while he finishes up in the garden. By the time he is done, I have cheese, crackers, grapes, and tea set out on the back patio.
“This looks lovely,” he says. “I don’t get out here much.”
“I take it the renters don’t often offer you food?” I ask, motioning for him to have a seat. He shakes his head. “Do you mind me asking a question?”
“Sure.”
“Someone in town mentioned this was part of a property owned by the Rosses. Any relation to you?”
He surveys me for a moment before answering. “Yes, the cottage is part of an old family property. This was a caretaker’s cottage many, many years ago.”
I nod. “That’s interesting. I guess around here there is a lot of that type of thing with families having lengthy histories in the area.” I pause for a moment considering my next thought. “I’ll be here for a few months focusing on my next book.”
“What’s the book about, or can you not tell me?” he asks with a hint of humor.
“I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you,” I answer with a hard stare that makes him burst out laughing. He has a nice laugh, and I find myself drawn to his eyes again. “No, seriously, I’m writing a mystery novel. Normally I write romance, but I’ve wanted to write a mystery for some time and I finally talked my editor into it. So now, I’m here trying to stay un-distracted while I get the final draft done.”
“Too distracting at home?” he asks and I can see he has taken notice of my wedding ring.
“Yes,” I say. “My kids are very distracting and even though they are in college they seem to pop in all the time.”
“College?” he asks and looks at me even more closely. This I am used to, as most people assume my kids are biological and I can almost see them trying to calculate my age and wondering if I had them while in college. Everyone loves a scandal.
I chuckle knowing this conversation all too well. “They are adopted. My late husband and I adopted them when they were just a few years old. We were young and it wasn’t a planned thing, but just kind of happened out of the blue.”
I see his interest pique when I say the words “late husband.”
“I see,” he replies, clearly not knowing what to say about that.
“Sean was killed in an accident a few years ago and the whole single-mom thing is a real time suck,” I explain with a hint of humor in my voice. “I took off work and started writing after Sean died. I needed to reconfigure our lives. But now, they are settled and getting ready to graduate next year and I’m just figuring out what to do next. I figured this would be a good jump start. Different type of book, change of scenery,” I say, motioning to our surroundings.
“Where are you from in the States?” he asks, taking a long sip of tea.
“D.C. area. I used to work for the federal government, so we settled there after college,” I explain. “What about you, have you always lived here?”
“For most of my life, then I went to uni in London for a stint and then some time abroad and I finally ended up back here,” he answers. Somehow, I feel there is a longer answer to this question, but I don’t feel right prying into that yet.
“I spent a term in London,” I say. We chat about our London experiences, sharing our favorite places in the city and other collegiate escapades. And then when he’s finished his tea and had a cracker or two, he nods his head toward my front garden.
“Well, I suppose I should finish up out there and head back.” He looks at me and I find myself staring into those beautiful eyes again. Hagrid, who has managed to push open the kitchen door, is rubbing his head against Jack’s leg. Jack absent-mindedly scratches his head and then slowly gets up as though he knows he should, but doesn’t want to go. Sensing this, I suggest he come back and keep me company sometime after he finishes tending the garden and he nods his agreement.
I continue sitting on the patio for a while just watching the waves and listening to the birds. The warm sun basks my pale skin and I feel content to just sit and do nothing for a while. Hagrid jumps into my lap at some point and circles twice before wrapping himself into a very tight ball and falling asleep. I pet him and feel the warm silky smooth fur beneath my touch. I can feel his body shake with each purr and I am at peace in the moment. But my mind wanders to Jack, he was polite and fun to talk with; he told funny stories and seemed warm and kind but guarded, and that sense of guardedness gnaws at me. I don’t know why, I hardly know the man, and maybe it is that realization that truly makes me question my thoughts. Regardless, I know that a week from today when he returns I will find a reason to invite him back in for tea or drinks or something. There is more there and I want to explore it.
Chapter 6
Laura’s Playlist: “Sowing the Seeds of Love” by Tears for Fears
That Saturday, I decide to go down to the pub. I am getting restless sitting up at the cottage and I need a change of scenery. I grab my laptop and head to town. Once settled, the nice bartender from before offers me my Snakebite and some chips. I get completely sucked into my task at hand. The gentle murmuring of various patrons talking and the clanking of dishes and glasses is just enough to keep my senses stimulated and the change is welcome and gives me the inspiration I need to complete the next several chapters in my novel. I’ve been making excellent progress all week and feel like I’ll have a working draft in just a few weeks. Then I can spend the second half of my time editing, a task that I love and hate. Editing is when I can add those nuisances and details I skipped when writing, but I never feel fully satisfied with it. I always feel I could add more or change more.
I’m deep in thought when I sense a presence nearby and my head bobs up to find Jack watching me from the bar with a pint in his hand. I smile warmly at him and he raises his glass toward me. I can see his desire to speak with me. I know he is avoiding me as not to interrupt me, so I beckon him with a nod of my head. He raises an eyebrow in question.
“You seem busy, I’ll leave you to it,” he says from his chair at the bar.
“Nope, just wrapping up here.” I smile. “I could use the company. I decided I couldn’t take the isolation for another minute, so I came down here.”
He glides over to me and pulls out a chair sliding in gracefully before grabbing a coaster and setting down his drink. I close the laptop lid and place it back into my bag. I reach for my drink and take a long sip of the delicious concoction that always brings me back to my youth.
“Snakebite, eh?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. “I had you pegged for a Chardonnay girl.”
“Well, you couldn’t be more wrong.” I laugh. “There’s nothing quite like a good Snakebite and they do a good one here with the proper lager and cider. It’s hard to find that back home.”
“How’s the book coming?” he asks.
“Good, I’ve really been on a roll this week, so much so, I think I’ll be wrapping up sooner than I thought,” I reply as I watch him run his finger around the top edge of his pint glass.
“Oh?” he answers with a question and his eyes hint at disappointment. “So you’ll be heading back early, will you?”
“Oh no,” I say. “I have a ton of editing to do. I’ll stay the whole time. Plus, it’s a good change for me here. I needed it.”
We proceed to spend the afternoon talking about so many things: movies, music, and our families. I even learn that Jack has a younger brother, Oliver, who lives nearby. He is still guarded in his explanations and I sense it strongly, even more so than at the cottage. I buy us another round of drinks and then he buys another round and we get lost in conversation. I notice him staring at me a few times and I can’t help it as a blush creeps across my pale skin. I’m glad I’m drinking and am not wearing anything low cut. I hope that it’s not too obvious. Sean used to say that my skin lights up like Rudolph’s nose when I blush. Curse the genetic gods!
Talking to him seems so easy. I haven’t spoken to another man other than my brother, son, neighbors, and work colleagues in ages. My frien
ds tried to set me up on a few dates after Sean died, but that was several years ago and it just never felt right. I shake my head at myself. What am I thinking? I came here to work, and I’m letting myself get distracted by this guy with amazing eyes and a wonderful ability to talk. Laura, pull yourself together, I say to myself as I try to focus on our conversation.
Eventually, I notice the increase in customers and realize we are nearing on dinnertime. “I probably had better head back,” I say.
“Sure,” he says. “It’s been a lovely afternoon, Laura. I look forward to my gardening duties this week.”
I smile at him and nod my head, unable to speak as I look into the green eyes that focus on me as he lifts himself from the table.
“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks, looking hopeful.
“Sure, why not,” I reply.
He grabs my bag for me as I stand and takes my hand, pulling me through the customers who are waiting to be seated. Once we clear the throngs of people in the pub, he lets go of my hand and for a minute I am wishing he would take it again. I notice that his hands are not only big but rough and full of callouses. They are also strong and warm and having my hand resting in his makes me feel a bit like a giddy schoolgirl. I don’t know what is happening to me. I’ve spent two afternoons with this guy and now I’m going weak at the knees. This is unlike me and I’m not sure I entirely approve of it. But a small part of me tells myself to let go and take the ride. Life is short and I know this all too well. Maybe a Scottish summer fling is just what the doctor ordered. Who knows, maybe he will be my muse?
