by Barrett
Chapter Forty-one
FROM ACROSS THE parking lot, Silke watched as Kirin headed back to the car with a large shopping bag. The strong athletic gait belied her sedentary job as a writer. Must be the swimming.
Kirin waved at Silke, flashed a mischievous smile, and slipped on her sunglasses.
The warm sensation in her chest surprised Silke, and it took her a moment to realize it was happiness—something lacking in her life’s events of late. The dark cloud of Rachel Bates had briefly darkened her joy.
“What’s in the bag?” she asked as Kirin placed the large bag on the floor in the backseat.
“It’s a succulent surprise supper, for which you must wait a few more minutes,” Kirin said. “We’re almost there. Since we’re going to be spending a fair amount of time in the car next weekend, I thought we’d stick close to home.”
“That sounds like a good plan, and it looks like the clouds are disappearing, so it should be a nice evening.” Silke clasped her fingers behind her neck.
Kirin drove a few blocks south and turned onto Lake Park.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever visited this park.” Silke turned sideways to face Kirin. “Isn’t it a shame to live in a nice city like Milwaukee and not take advantage of so many of its wonderful attractions? I’ll bet it would take a week just to see all the historical sites and another week or more for all the summer festivals on the lakefront.” She sighed with some residual sadness. “What have I been doing all these years that I didn’t see the wonderful things around me?”
They turned onto a long driveway.
“Stop.” Silke pulled off her sunglasses and gazed at the tall white structure looming above the trees.
Kirin laughed. “I hope you like our picnic location.”
Silke unbuckled her seat belt and got out. She had to see it without obstruction.
Another hidden gem, the North Point Lighthouse stood only a few miles from her house, and she’d forgotten about it. Pristine and regal, the lighthouse and the caretaker’s cottage had been overlooking Lake Michigan since 1888. The contrast of the colors was blindingly beautiful. The surrounding trees and grass glittered in shades of emerald green. Clear blue skies made rich by the angle of the setting sun accentuated the bright white buildings with contrasting red roofs.
She pressed her hand to her chest. “It’s perfect, just perfect.”
“Hop in, and we’ll park the car,” Kirin said.
“I am so touched that you picked this place. It’s lovely, and a perfect place for a picnic,” Silke said. “You think it’s open?”
“I’m afraid they only allow visitors on weekends, but I brought my camera in case you wanted some pictures.” Kirin parked the car in a parking lot and got out.
Silke pulled the shopping bag from the backseat, and waited as Kirin removed a blanket and a small Styrofoam cooler from the trunk. They crossed the lot to an open area west of the buildings.
Kirin spread the blanket under a large shade tree.
Silke stood transfixed by the lighthouse. She had never been this close to it and was amazed that the impregnable seven-story structure still stood so regally. “I am just speechless.”
Kirin came up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
Silke turned and hugged her tightly. “Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Kirin said. “You want to eat or would you rather wait?”
Silke stepped back slightly embarrassed. “I want to eat, and I’m dying of curiosity about what’s in that bag. But tell me. Why did you choose this site?”
Kirin went to the blanket. “I was thinking about how impressed I was by your project the first time I saw it. I tried to visualize how impressive it would look on a bluff overlooking the lake. You know, how welcoming it would look.” She pointed to the gleaming glass top of the lighthouse. “It got me thinking about the notion of using lights and beacons to signal a welcome to people.” She laughed. “I suppose it seems kind of silly, but I remembered this lighthouse and how beautiful it was.”
Silke sat down next to her, and they looked up at the tower. “You’re right. I suppose ever since someone discovered fire, we’ve used it to illuminate.” She leaned back on her outstretched arms.
“I remember several years ago I did a piece about the rugged fisher folks who live in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland.” Kirin pulled several sealed containers from the paper bag. “Truly, it’s a place time has forgotten. They are an amazingly resilient people who have clung to the old ways, and many still speak Gaelic. The old people and the language are disappearing as the younger generation moves away and abandons the hardscrabble existence along with their native tongue.” She paused and sighed wistfully. “At one of my final stops during the trip, I interviewed an old woman whose family had lived there for generations. Through a translator, she painstakingly described some of the traditions based on old Norse customs.” She lay back on the blanket and folded her hands behind her neck.
Silke smiled at the way Kirin’s voice began to lilt, almost brogue-like.
“In one of them, she described the Beltane tradition of lighting balefires on the highest points along the coast. Originally they would have their cattle pass between two fires to purify and protect them, as well as bring good fortune to the farmer. The fires provided the signal to all within view. After many years, it became a welcoming beacon for the fishermen.”
Silke sat up and clasped her hands together. “That’s perfect. I’m going to name my piece Balefire because that’s exactly what it will represent, a welcoming beacon.”
“That’s a terrific idea,” Kirin said. “I’m sure your client will love it.”
Kirin looked at the containers on the blanket. “I wasn’t sure what your taste was, but I figured you’d be hungry. There’s some grilled lemon pepper chicken, sliced honey baked ham, red potato salad, broccoli salad with sunflower seeds, fresh fruit salad, and Sendik’s home-baked brownies.” She pulled a bottle of wine from the cooler. “My personal sommelier selected this delightful Prairie Fumè from our own Wallersheim Winery in Prairie Du Sac, Wisconsin.”
Silke laughed at the grand gesture. “I believe you have thought of everything. It is a perfect meal, a perfect location, a perfectly lovely evening—and the perfect company.”
Kirin grinned proudly and handed Silke the bottle. “If you don’t mind opening this, I’ll get the rest of the food set up.”
Silke felt relaxed and peaceful as she stretched out on the blanket. The sun slipped farther behind the horizon, leaving an almost peach-colored tint on the majestic white lighthouse. She glanced at Kirin, who was lying on her back with her eyes closed. She couldn’t get over how two people, who had spent relatively little time together, could achieve such an affinity.
The warm sensations in her chest seemed to permeate every cell. She tentatively stroked the top of Kirin’s arm and interlocked their fingers. As the sky darkened and stars appeared, they lay side by side silently. Without warning, the beacon above them moved. Kirin squeezed Silke’s hand as the silent sentry rotated slowly.
“I’m so glad to have you in my life,” Silke whispered and kissed Kirin’s forehead.
“I feel the same way.” Kirin smiled and gazed at the beacon. “You haven’t said anything about Rachel, and of course that’s none of my business. It’s just that I—”
“I should have.” Silke sighed. “I didn’t want to ruin a perfect evening with unpleasantness. We can talk about it if you want, but it’s over. She’s gone. I’m tired of worrying and I’m tired of crying.”
Kirin rolled up on her side and faced Silke. “I understand grieving the loss is personal. I respect that. And when you feel you’re ready . . . I want to be there.” She stroked Silke’s cheek with warm fingers. “I want to be with you in every way that you’ll have me, but I don’t want to push something you may not be ready for, and I don’t want to do anything to lose your friendship.”
Silke felt tears roll down
her cheeks. The unexpected tenderness in Kirin’s voice squeezed her heart with painful pleasure. In that moment, she knew she had denied herself even the possibility of that hope. The bright reassuring happiness she had felt the moment she had grabbed Kirin’s hand during the storm-tossed flight to Belize was real.
Her throat burned with a mixture of sadness and joy. “You have no idea how much that means to me and how important you are.”
Kirin slid closer, put her arm around Silke’s waist, and pulled her into an embrace. The warmth between their bodies felt magnetic. Silke allowed herself to relax into a tender embrace and promising caresses of Kirin’s arms.
The tender kiss was like coming home.
Chapter Forty-two
“THANKS FOR COMING over on your day off. I’ve got my hands full, trying to get this project done so I can leave town for a few days.” Silke held the door for Phillip.
“The timing was good,” Phillip said. “I was trying to find an excuse to keep from driving into the office for some files. Do we have time to go see that project?”
“Sure, if you want. Rachel couldn’t pick up the rental truck until ten.”
Silke rolled up the bay door to the studio.
Phillip gave a low whistle. “That’s pretty impressive, sis.”
She and Roger had managed to assemble the two sections to be sure they fit and that she could dismantle and transport them. The authentic-looking beacon sat on her workbench.
Phillip walked completely around the eight-foot tower, nodding and smiling. “This is really awesome. I might have to commission you myself. If my lovely wife saw this, she’d be scheming right now.” He stopped at the workbench and leaned over. “Now this part is genius. Is it a regular street light?”
“Sort of . . . it’s a commercial fixture. I think they’re used for high-end gated communities where they want to establish some kind of homey ambiance. I just added some nautical details.”
He turned around and smiled broadly. “Sometimes I forget that you’re not just my dorky little sister. You’re a full-fledged professional artist. This is really impressive. I’m proud of you. Now, before that goes your head I want you to sign these papers.” He opened a leather folder and spread out some legal documents. “Rachel signed the quitclaim and the financial settlement. As soon as she loads up that truck, you should have no other contact from her.”
“I’m glad. It’ll be good to put this behind me and get back to living my life.” Silke took the elegant fountain pen and signed her name next to the yellow sticky tags with X’s.
“I’ll mail you the copies when everything is ready.” Phillip slipped the papers back into the folder. “In the meantime, you get back to work, and I will supervise the final dispersion of assets.”
The sarcasm was not lost on Silke. “Thanks, Phillip. I’ll lock up after you guys are gone. The only things that she should be taking are in the den. If there’s any problem, shoot me a text, and I’ll come over.” She hugged him and watched as he walked across the alley toward her house.
The large wall clock hummed as the large hand hit twelve. Silke pried open the marine varnish and grabbed her favorite one-inch detail brush. Each one of the exacting details of the widow’s walk, including the ropes and small buoys, needed protection from the elements. One of the newly added details was a scale-sized seagull anchored to a post. She touched it and smiled. As soon as she finished for the day, she could pack for her getaway with Kirin. The now familiar warm glow began in her chest and spread throughout her body with just the thought of Kirin.
An hour later a text from Phillip interrupted her bliss.
she wants to know about garage stuff
Naturally. Silke covered the varnish can and wrapped the brush. As she hung up her apron, Rachel appeared in the open doorway.
“Evidently, neither one of us remembered all the stuff from the garage.” Rachel stood with their hands on her hips and that look in her eye.
Deep breath and do not engage. “Actually, most of the tools are mine. You never touched the lawnmower or the yard equipment, it was always my responsibility and since it still is . . . they stay here.”
“Oh, and since when is that your call?” Rachel took two steps forward.
A knot tightened in Silke’s gut, and she clenched her fists. “Since you signed the papers.”
The hair on her neck bristled and red spots flashed in front of her. Not again. She would not knuckle under this time. “This is over, Rachel. I am done with the threats and the intimidation. Take your goddamn money and get out of my life.”
At her feet lay a three-foot section of leftover galvanized pipe. She picked it up and gripped it with both hands.
“Get out of my studio!” Her whole body vibrated with blistering rage.
Rachel sneered but took a step back. “Keep the stuff, you stupid bitch.”
She turned just as Phillip appeared in the door. “I guess Silke has given you her answer.” He smiled, stepped aside, and held out an envelope. “I assume this is the last time we will have to deal with you.”
She snatched the envelope. “Thank God. You’re both fucking crazy.” She stormed away.
“You okay?” Phillip took Silke’s arm.
Silke nodded.
“I’m going to make sure she’s gone, I’ll be right back.” Phillip turned and strode away.
The pipe slipped from her hands and clattered to the floor. She went to the narrow staircase, crouched on the second step, and hugged her knees with both arms. The red spots continued, and her vision seemed to fade. She closed and then opened her eyes and took a deep breath. Stress, that’s all.
“Sis, are you okay?” Phillip rushed over and knelt in front of her.
“I think so. I’m just a little shaky. I really didn’t expect another confrontation and maybe I’m just over tired.”
“Let’s just go back in the house for a little while,” Phillip said. “I’ll get you something to drink, and you can lie down and rest a bit.”
THE SOUND OF the air conditioner kicking in woke Silke. The darkness surprised her, and it took several minutes to get oriented. Light from the street lamp shone through the window. She was in her bedroom.
She sat up and stretched her stiff muscles. She’d slept all afternoon and, if it was dark, it must be close to nine o’clock. She hadn’t slept that soundly in years. Her stomach was growling.
She ignored her flashing cell phone lying on the table long enough to throw together a sandwich.
She sat at the table and picked up the phone. Two text messages—one from Phillip asking her to call and the other from Kirin asking what time they should leave in the morning.
“Crap, I haven’t packed.”
She took several bites of the sandwich, poured a glass of milk, and hit reply to Kirin’s number.
“Hello, lovely lady.” Kirin sounded chipper.
Silke choked on the milk. “Sorry. I didn’t know you’d pick up on the first ring. Hi.”
“I just grabbed my cell phone to go sit outside when you called,” Kirin said. “I finished packing and wanted to run over my list for tomorrow. Are you all set?”
Silke felt her cheeks heat up. “Just about . . . I wondered if I needed to bring anything dressy.”
“I don’t think so, although I never thought about it,” Kirin said. “It’s their fiftieth wedding anniversary, but they’re celebrating at a fishing resort so I guess it’s six of one, half dozen of the other. I might throw in a nice shirt of some sort.”
Silke paused as she tried hard to get reoriented to the conversation. She still felt a bit drugged. “Okay, I’ll do the same. What time should I be ready?”
“It usually takes me a little over four hours to get up to Woodruff, depending on whether I stop to eat,” Kirin said. “Why don’t we say around eight? It may take a little while for me to get through downtown. I’d like to stop for breakfast with you, if that’s okay.”
“That’s a great idea. I don’t have much in the re
frigerator.” Silke felt suddenly lightheaded, and she sat down. She was really going away with Kirin. Her pulse increased, and she smiled.
Kirin cleared her throat. “I guess we’re all set. I think this is going to be fun, and I’m really glad you want to go with me.”
“I’m glad you asked me,” Silke said softly.
Kirin laughed, sounding nervous. “I wish it was morning already.”
“It will be soon. Good night.”
“Goodnight, Silke.”
