by Geeta Kakade
She could tell he felt deeply about it.
“What do your cousins do?”
“One works in construction and the other does deliveries locally. Three others do nothing. They fish and hunt but that’s it. One has farmland but his wife manages it as he wants to drink himself to death.”
The problems seemed immense. Jacob seemed to be the right person to help with the issues he had named.
They had arrived at Lookout Point and Laurel got out of the car.
Jacob came to stand beside her and point out things he knew. “There’s a trail here for about a mile on the crest. Would you like to walk? We can turn back as soon as you get tired.”
Laurel nodded. She had to work on rebuilding her stamina. She wouldn’t be able to go back to the frontline if she wasn’t in top physical condition. The thought made her pause. Was there place for a recovered amnesic on the front line or would she no longer qualify to be a part of the First Combat Cameramen squadron?
“This way.” Jacob had been looking at the map on its stand and deciding which trail to choose.
As they started walking he said, “So what was the nightmare about?”
He had a right to know. She’d deprived him of his sleep.
Laurel wet her lips. “I saw a girl and she was in trouble and suddenly I had a gun in my hand and fired it.”
“At someone?” he asked.
“No,” her nod was emphatic. “Up in the air just to scare them away. I would never fire at someone unless it was in time of war.”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
He stopped and hugged her and she saw an odd mixture of emotions in his eyes. Happiness mixed in with relief.
She put her arms up and clung to him wanting him to hold her. Kiss her.
“We have to keep going,” he said reaching up and bringing her hands back to her side. “This is a public path.”
Laurel felt the color rush to her face. What was wrong with her? Kissing him when she thought she was married to him was one thing. Now everything was different.
As they walked on Laurel was aware of a small rivulet of remorse running through her. She had wanted Jacob to hold her and want to kiss her.
“Did Bridget tell you about the history of Cupid Lodge?” he asked.
“No. We talked about her early life at the Orphanage and then her coming here, meeting Andrew and discovering her connection with the family.”
Conversation would cover the awkwardness she felt.
She listened as he told her about the first settlers and how they had found the Lake and made it their home. Most of the Native Americans in this area had been friendly and gentle, awe struck by the foreigners. There were a few skirmishes in the area but none in Silver Lake. His ancestors had made friends with the newcomers and helped them with their medicines and growing their new crops.
He talked of a time his grandmother had described vividly and Laurel realized it was great that history had been passed down orally and was forever recorded in the memories of each generation. His stories matched the ones in the journal and painted a great picture.
By the time they were back at the car she was more relaxed and ready to go back and meet everyone else at dinner. Trust Jacob to know exactly how to unwind her tension.
“I wish I could cook or do something to help,” Laurel commented as they got back in the car. “I wouldn’t feel quite as useless.”
“Don’t worry about stuff like that. There are other ways we can do our bit to help. We can get Mexican food one night a week. Mark, Christy and Frank love that. Andrew and Bridget love Chinese food so we can get that and take it over to their place. Mark mentioned they could use a punching bag for the all purpose room and I’ve ordered that online as a gift from both of us.”
“And what about the Kemps?”
“They eat in their rooms sometimes after a long day playing Bridge so I’m not sure about their tastes. We’ll find out.”
“What about Moira and Holt?”
“Moira seems to have no particular preference and Holt as he says himself hasn’t met a food he doesn’t like.”
Laurel laughed and then stopped suddenly. “What do you like best in the way of food Jacob?”
They had tried so many different things on their way to Silver Lake, she wasn’t sure.
“Ama’s food of course. For the rest, fish mainly but I do enjoy the occasional steak medium rare.”
“What do I like best?”
“Your Aunt Grace mentioned you eat everything as long as there’s dessert beckoning at the end of the meal. She said you preferred seafood to meat when there was a choice. Uncle Paul said you loved Chinese from that place close to his apartment.” He sounded as if he was teasing her and she smiled.
Laurel felt like an archaeologist. Every fact she unearthed about herself was a discovery.
Laurel had liked Holt right away when they first met and she was glad to see him again. He told them at dinner how the man who sold him the car had said it would run great once it was fixed. Everybody listened but didn’t say anything. They had their doubts. It was amazing how someone so intelligent had been so easily taken in.
Mark told her how they each got a turn to pick what to have for dinner when the guests were out. Christy had opted for Mrs. Kemp’s pot roast with lots of gravy tonight. There was bread to go along with it and Laurel couldn’t believe the fresh taste of it. “Where do you get this bread?”
“Bridget makes it for us twice a week,” Christy passed her the bread basket.
That knowledge added to Laurel’s sense of inadequacy.
“And it would last us a whole lot longer but Robert here keeps cutting himself slices of it throughout the day and eating it with butter and jam saying he wants to find the best jam,” Mrs. Kemp looked sternly at her husband.
“It’s a free country,” he muttered under his breath.
“Yes it is,” said Mrs. Kemp, “and I don’t want to live in it alone. The doctor says you need to lose some more weight.”
The bread went awfully well with the potatoes and pork and Laurel looked down at her plate a little later to see it empty. The walk must have made her hungry or she had been so busy listening to everyone’s banter that she’d relaxed enough to eat.
Christy had another surprise. She got up and returned with a bowl of caramel custard that she overturned on a platter at the table.
“Moira loves the challenge of making low calorie desserts,” she told Laurel, “and we love eating them. The custard is made with non-fat milk, a slice of white bread and two eggs. She uses four tablespoons of sugar in the entire dessert, two for the caramel and two for the custard.”
“It looks delicious,” Laurel looked at the perfect caramel on top of the custard. “I love desserts.”
Maybe she should get a book from the library and try to learn how to make some.
“Me too,” seconded Christy.
“Me three,” Bridget jumped in.
“Me…” Mr. Kemp began but Mrs. Kemp intervened with, “We know dear. You like everything.”
“So do I,” Holt commented and an instant bond sprang up between the two men. “My parents waited till we were starving before they fed us and we ate every bit of food on our plates. My mother always said we three boys would eat her out of house and home so I guess it’s a good thing we all left home early.”
“Where did you grow up?” Mrs. Kemp asked.
“Indiana,” Holt told her. “My Dad worked construction and my Mom worked in the local hospital cafeteria. She loved to cook. Dad still does odd jobs for old clients. Mom’s retired and helps with my brother’s kids.”
“What do your brothers do?” Mr. Kemp looked at his empty bowl and then at the platter with the dessert. Mrs. Kemp rolled her eyes and then served him and Holt the last two pieces of caramel custard.
“My older brother Henry was at boot camp with Mark and my younger brother Jack won a full scholarship to veterinarian school. He’s the one who lives with my parents n
ow. They’ve got ten acres of land there and Jack’s wife has kennels there. Misty boards and trains dogs. My parents live in the newly built guest house with their own drive and everything. Makes them feel independent and yet secure knowing Jack and Misty are close by.”
“Moira’s from the North Tahoe area,” supplied Mrs. Kemp. “She went to high school there and was working in a café as a cook when she met her ex-husband.”
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” asked Holt.
Moira shook her head and Frank said, “Mom was an only child. My grandfather had a lumber business and my grandmother came from a rich family in Reno that made furniture. Mom was spoiled as a kid. She left home when she finished school so she could be independent and make her own way in life. She said at eighteen she didn’t know any better or she would have gone to college.”
Laurel noticed how flustered Moira looked and the way Holt’s gaze was fixed on her.
Interesting.
“It’s time for your homework,” Moira told Frank. “You have a test tomorrow.”
He got up to leave firing one last shot, “When I’m eighteen I can do anything I want to as I’ll be an adult then.”
Moira gave him a look that seemed to say, ‘Over my dead body’.
“Now you’re here,” Mark told Holt. “We can go back to our once a week poker nights. Toby’s asking about that. Says you won the last time we played and he has to get it all back.”
“At our place,” Andrew looked at his wife. “The women folk want their movie nights undisturbed.”
“Yes we do.” Christy added as Moira got up to replenish the coffee pot.
The talk became general and Laurel relaxed as the evening wore on, glad no one was expecting her to contribute more than she felt like. Occasionally she was aware that Jacob was glancing at her but she always met his look with a smile and he seemed to be at his most relaxed as well.
As she lay in bed after taking the new medicine he had picked up for her, Laurel’s last thought was, “What a nice group of people to be with.”
Most of all it felt good to be with Jacob. He had told her why he was changing her medicine. He didn’t want her on anything that might become an addiction. Laurel wondered if he there was a medicine to change the fact she was becoming addicted to him?
“How’s it going?” asked Mark as he got on the treadmill and Jacob got on the home gym.
Andrew and Holt had decided they were going to be couch potatoes and discuss something on Holt’s laptop.
“Not good,” said Jacob soberly. “She wanted me to kiss her.”
“And?” prompted Mark.
“I can’t abuse the trust your Uncle’s placed in me. He picked me because he trusts me not to take advantage of the situation.”
Mark’s brows drew together in a frown. “Anything new to tell us on that score?”
“She seems to be making slight headway. She dreamed of firing a gun at a group of men who were threatening a girl.”
“Think that’s what actually happened on base?” asked Andrew looking at them. “She might have been defending someone else.”
“Could be,” Jacob shrugged, “but we can’t be sure till Laurel regains her memory and tells us what happened.”
“If she’s defending someone than someone in her battalion knows something more than they’re letting on,” Holt pointed out.
“That’s what I thought. I’ve texted the General and he’s having someone start questioning the female officers all over again.”
Jacob got off the gym after a half hour, “I’m heading for bed.”
They all said goodnight and the minute the door to the apartment closed behind him the three men looked at each other.
“He’s got it bad, hasn’t he?” Andrew stated.
“Very bad,” agreed Mark. “But who knows? With a little bit of luck he and Laurel would make a wonderful couple.”
“So would Moira and I,” Holt sounded down in the dumps. “If only I can get her to go out with me.”
Laurel woke early and smelled the coffee. A glance at the other bed showed her Jacob was still asleep. She looked at the clock in the room. Seven thirty. She seemed to have slept deeply with the new medicine and was thankful her dreams hadn’t interrupted Jacob’s sleep again.
She went into the family room after peeping around the door to make sure no one was around. A coffee pot had been set up in the kitchenette. She poured herself a cup of coffee, added cream and sugar from the tray on the counter.
There was oatmeal in a bowl dotted with plump raisins, a jug of milk and a small loaf of bread with jam and curls of butter. She took the tray into the bedroom. She was starving.
Sitting down in the armchair, she opened her laptop to check her mail and started eating.
“Good morning.” Jacob woke as she was finishing her last spoonful of oatmeal and said, “How are you feeling?”
“Great! I slept like a baby. It’s the new medicine I think.”
“That’s good.” Jacob made a mental note to look at all her other meds and have a talk with the psychiatrist at Bethesda and see if any others should be changed.
“What do you want to do today?” he asked.
“Nothing in particular,” she hesitated. “I think I’ll go for a run later and then read Christy’s journal. It’s fascinating. Go ahead and do whatever you want to.”
He hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
“I’ve got a couple of hours work and then I need to go out for a while if you’re sure you don’t mind being on your own here.”
“I’m fine.”
Laurel wanted to get further on the road marked Independence and the first step was to do things by herself.
For the next two days Laurel did exactly that. She ran each morning, she read the journal and she busied herself with her camera. The first time she took it out to the garden Toby saw her and came out of his greenhouse.
“Your garden is amazing,” she said as she snapped a deer by the chain link fence at the back. “I’d like to take pictures of your flowers.”
“Come into the greenhouse.” His smile couldn’t have been broader if he’d tried. “You might like to see the orchids.”
Laurel was amazed at the things he had growing in the greenhouse. A huge bunch of bananas on a tree as high as her waist, two papaya trees loaded with fruit, strawberries. She took pictures of everything and then they sat down in the two chairs outside the greenhouse and he told her about his wife who had passed away years ago and about Christy’s father Jake who had become such a good friend when Toby needed one.
That evening as they got ready to go in for dinner she asked Jacob to suggest that the two of them, Moira and Holt go out for coffee and dessert later. She’d mentioned her plan to Mrs. Kemp who said she would make sure no dessert was served tonight. Jacob was surprised till she told him Holt wanted to take Moira out and he was having a hard time. A foursome might break the ice.
“Good idea,” Jacob agreed.
“There’s a box for you that was delivered by UPS yesterday. I meant to bring it to the apartment and forgot.” Moira said when they went into the kitchen.
“For me?” Laurel was surprised.
“I think it’s from your Aunt Grace in New York.”
“Thanks.”
The box was huge. Laurel picked it up, took it to the apartment to get it out of the way and decided to open it later. It had to be her winter clothes and boots.
As she went back she hear Jacob telling Holt and Moira that he would like it if the four of them could go out for dessert.
Christy winked at Laurel and the latter knew she had done the right thing.
They went to Miner’s Rock to a café and by the time they returned Laurel was glad to see Moira was losing her awkwardness around Holt. He’d made them laugh about his stories about befriending an Afghan on his last deployment who had offered him five goats if he would marry his daughter.
The third day of
her new regime Laurel came back from her run with Coco who went with her each morning, to see Christy in the family room with Moira discussing the Halloween party.
“I wonder if you’d like to see the house today,” Christy asked Laurel. “All the guests have left for the day and I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to give you a tour.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” said Laurel.
She washed up, changed and met Christy in the kitchen. The latter pointed to the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and said, “For you.”
“Thanks.” Laurel had no choice but to drink it before the tour began. She could see the juicer from their apartment in D.C on the counter and wondered if Jacob had told them she liked fresh juice. Laurel was embarrassed and made up her mind to have a word with him. She could make her own juice.
She and Christy ended up in the attic. Laurel loved the fact Christy and Mark had turned this area into a private retreat. The afternoon sun, Christy told her poured in through the windows and warmed the room with an unbelievable glow. The old rocking chair with an afghan draped on one arm looked really old.
Christy showed her the wedding dresses in the closet and Laurel fell in love with one of them. She picked up the cream lace one with full sleeves and tiny buttons that went up to the elbow. Holding it against her she realized it would be ankle length on her but would fit her otherwise. There was a lot to be said for losing weight.
“It’s gorgeous.” Laurel wondered why she was mooning over a wedding dress?
They sat down and Christy told her how she had discovered the father she’d thought dead had been alive, the letter she’d received from the lawyer on her twenty fourth birthday and her arrival at Cupid Lodge. It had been the beginning of a new life for her.
Bridget found them an hour later looking over the stash of paintings and sketches Jake Cupid had left his daughter.
“I’ve been thinking of what I could do for you while I’m here,” Laurel told Christy. “What do you think of the idea of a calendar for next year with some of these paintings of Cupid Lodge and Silver Lake reproduced as pictures? You could give it to friends and present guests and send it to past guests too.”
