“Thank you for believing in my better nature.”
I remained inside the bookstore with Suze as we both watched Decklan and Calista Stone make their way into the world that awaited them outside. They held hands as they did so, older in years, but still very young in their affection. In a way, they were beginning all over again.
Earlier that morning, I had asked Calista if she regretted the loss of so much time. She sat quietly considering the question and then we both heard the sound of an old typewriter, the very same typewriter upon which Manitoba had been forged decades ago. Decklan was writing again, his muse having finally returned to him.
Calista tilted her head and grinned. She clearly enjoyed the sound of her husband at work.
“I would be lying if I said I didn’t entertain such regret. But then I consider that, though we lost those twenty-seven years, we’re not yet sixty, still relatively young. I’m determined to have more than another twenty-seven years together. I thing we’re owed that much.”
I recall looking across the kitchen table at Calista and seeing her staring at me as she raised and then lowered her coffee cup. The look in her eyes indicated the kind of determined resolve and confidence that would no longer allow anything to be taken from her again, particularly something as important as time.
“In fact, I won’t accept a day less.”
Decklan and Calista Stone had lost each other once, and had no intention of ever doing so again.
That kind of love would have it no other way.
2.
Many years later…
A young family was enjoying their time on the pristine San Juan Islands waters. The small, scuffed, twenty-seven-year-old cruiser was far from the newest or most attractive boat moving about the islands, but it was theirs.
Two children rested upon the vinyl bench at the rear of the boat, their heads poking out from orange life jackets like a pair of grinning turtles. The young wife looked up from her book as her husband steered the little cruiser toward the picturesque entrance to Deer Harbor.
The son shouted and pointed to the sky where a pair of eagles flew overhead. It was a summer in the San Juan Islands. Only those who have experienced it, can understand its unique gifts.
It is truly a place like no other.
“How’s the book?”
The wife glanced at her husband and nodded a few times.
“It’s pretty good. Started a little slow, but now I’m hooked.”
The husband glanced at the book’s cover and noted the title.
Manitoba.
The daughter made her way to the helm and stood between her parents. The girl stared at the small, tree-lined island that served as a natural navigational marker for boats coming into the harbor.
The father could hear his daughter mumbling something but couldn’t quite make out the words. He leaned closer.
“Look at the people on the cliff.”
Both he and his wife looked to where their daughter was pointing, and soon their son looked, too.
An older couple sat holding hands as they sat in two wooden chairs overlooking the side of a cliff. They could easily look down onto the small beach area below and the waters beyond. Several tall evergreen trees framed the old man and woman. The cliff directly underneath their feet was a combination of sea-darkened sandstone and granite that jutted outward several feet before dropping to the rocky shore below.
“Those two look pretty happy up there.”
The husband gave a quick nod in agreement. It was an image that made him think of the kind of future he would like to share with his wife, the woman he had fallen so madly in love with, the woman who had made him a father, and ultimately, a better man.
“Maybe that’ll be us someday.”
The young mother looked at her husband with eyes squinting from the bright sun overhead, and gave him a radiant smile. The sound of seagulls echoed across the harbor and intermingled with the soft, lulling song of the water as it slid down the small boat’s hull.
“Yeah, I think I’d like that. This would be a great place for you to focus on your writing. Although, you’ll have to sell a lot more books before we could afford a place like that!”
Their son started to wave at the couple on the cliff and soon the whole family was doing the same.
Just before the boat moved past the idyllic little island, the old couple lifted their hands in unison and waved back. It was a gesture of greeting and good-bye, and a gentle reminder to the young family to appreciate that most precious of all human commodities.
Time.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
D.W. Ulsterman lives near his beloved waters with his beautiful wife of 22 years, and their two teenage children, along with two cats and two dogs.
His interests, beyond the always-present task of writing, are music, film, boating, an often infuriating golf game, respectable BBQ skills, and sampling various wines from around the world. He is blessed to share his days with the love of his life, and watch their two children grow into the remarkable young adults they have become.
Many of D.W. Ulsterman's personal interests are reflected in his works, including a love of America, classic rock, and working to make the world a better place for the next generation.
His writings include the bestselling military action adventure Mac Walker series of books, including the epic tales DOMINATUS and TUMULTUS, as well as the mystery-thriller Bennington P.I. collection.
He is also the author of the western bestseller, The Irish Cowboy, and most recently published his new RACE WARS series, all of which are available HERE at Amazon.com
ABOVE: Author D.W. Ulsterman’s classic red, white, and blue-hulled Chris Craft, most often seen in the summer months exploring the San Juan Islands. Rumor has it that if you spot him tied up at one of the area’s many marinas, the author is happy to stop and sign a book for you, so long as you ask nicely. And if you offer him up a shot of Bushmills (he likes it clean) by way of compensation, you might just have a friend for life.
Other books by author, D.W. Ulsterman
THE IRISH COWBOY: A tale of lost love, regret, and personal redemption. . .
MAC WALKER'S 40,000 FEET: An action-packed military thrillers series. . .
TAKE TWO AND CALL ME IN THE MORGUE
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The Writer Page 17