Postcards from Cedar Key

by Terri DuLong

  I heard the gasp from Jill. “No! Seriously?”

  “Yes. Seriously,” I said, heading to the bathroom. “Hold on. I need to pee.”

  I placed the phone on the bedside table and could still hear Jill chattering away.

  A few minutes later, I retrieved the phone. “I’m back. What’s up?”

  “What’s up? You tell me. You were joking about separate beds, right?”

  “No, I was perfectly serious. The cabin is a two bedroom, two bath. I have my own space. What’s wrong with that?”

  “Well . . . uh . . . nothing. I guess. If that’s what you want.” I could hear the surprise in her voice.

  Was this what I wanted? I honestly wasn’t sure.

  “Saxton booked a two-bedroom place,” I told her, as if trying to justify the situation.

  “Right. And it’s certainly up to you if you choose to spend this time with him like a nun. I’m just surprised. I thought you told me that you agreed to have an exclusive relationship with him. Which I understood to mean that you were attracted to him—that there was a chemistry going on there.”

  I recalled Saxton’s kisses. “Oh, there is. Definitely. I think I just need more time. I don’t want what we have to just be about the sex.”

  Jill’s laughter filled the line. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Berkley. You’ve known each other for seven months.”

  Hmm, she had a point.

  “Anyway, I just called to see if you were having a good time and . . . to tell you that I’m definitely coming to Cedar Key for Thanksgiving. If that’s okay with you.”

  I pumped my arm in the air. “Yes! Of course it’s okay. Oh, Jill, that’s great. I miss you and it’ll be great spending time together next month.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I booked a flight into Gainesville, will rent a car there, and drive to the island. You said the airport is about an hour from Cedar Key?”

  “Yup. Oh, no . . .”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Does this mean I’ll have to cook a turkey?”

  “Oh, God! You’re right,” she said, and I know she was remembering a past Thanksgiving when I’d offered to make the bird. The only problem was, I’d forgotten to ever turn the oven on.

  I laughed. “Now, now. You said I was forgiven for that fiasco, and I promise to make sure I cook the turkey this time.”

  “Great. I’m flying in on Wednesday, the day before. I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Same here. I’ll call you next week after I get home. Love you.”

  I walked into the kitchen with the aroma of coffee greeting me again but no smell of bacon in the air and no Saxton. I peeked through the French doors and saw him engrossed in the newspaper. Filling a mug with coffee, I joined him.

  “Good morning,” I said, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

  He looked up and a smile covered his face as he pulled me close. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “I did.” I pulled up the chair beside him. “All this fresh mountain air is making me quite lazy.”

  “Well, I hope you’re all rested because I thought maybe we’d grab a big breakfast in Blue Ridge, rather than lunch, and then go to the apple orchard.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll finish this coffee and hit the shower.”

  Saxton was right. I did love the Mercier apple orchard. We had fun strolling the aisles together, and I was amazed at all the various products they sold. All kinds of preserves, different varieties of apples for both eating and baking, and one entire room dedicated to Christmas decorations. Their bakery was to die for, and three pies ended up in our basket along with all the other items.

  After we filled the trunk of the car with our purchases, Saxton checked his watch.

  “We have time to take a drive over to Ellijay, if you want.”

  “Let’s do it,” I told him.

  I also fell in love with this small town. A few streets for shopping surrounded a small park area with a fountain in the center of town. We found a great place to sit outside and have coffee before we walked along, browsing in shops.

  By the time we got back to the car and headed out of town it was going on four o’clock.

  “We may as well go to the restaurant now and get our dinner to go,” Saxton said. “We can always heat it up later in the microwave.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” I said, as I stretched out in the warm water of the hot tub. “Jill called me this morning and she’s coming to Cedar Key for Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s great. I’m sure you’ll be happy to see her. Have you heard from your aunt yet? You said she might also be there for the holiday.”

  I reached for my glass of wine and took a sip. “Not yet. Oh, gee . . . I just realized . . . I was going to extend an invitation to Mr. Carl and Raylene too. So that would be six, and I don’t have enough room in my kitchen to seat that many.”

  Saxton patted my hand. “Not to worry. We can have the dinner at my place. Between the deck and the dining room, I have plenty of room.”

  “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Not at all, and maybe we can invite Miss Maybelle too. Sometimes she likes to dine at the Island Hotel for Thanksgiving dinner, but we can ask her.”

  “That would be great. Thanks. I’m glad we finally got around to using this hot tub. I’m beginning to feel like Jell-O in here. It’s so relaxing.”

  Saxton nodded. “Hmm, maybe I should get one installed on my deck. That is, if you promise to join me.”

  “I promise,” I said, and as I turned my head his lips found mine.

  “I like this,” he whispered in my ear as his hand caressed my body. “Being with you like this.”

  “I . . . do . . . too,” I told him as I tried to catch my breath. This man had a way of kissing that notched up my desire to a level I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “I want you, Berkley,” he said, his voice husky.

  I knew it wasn’t just the wine causing my body to react to his touch.

  His kisses covered my nose, my cheek, my chin, before finding my lips again.

  When he pulled away, he took a deep breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever feel this way again. I wasn’t sure I wanted to . . . but I’ve fallen in love with you, Berkley. I love you.”

  All the years of being alone, all the years of thinking I didn’t want to be involved with somebody, instantly vanished. I allowed myself to be in the moment. To feel this man beside me, to feel the passion he aroused in me and to feel the magic of not only loving, but being loved in return.

  “I love you too, Saxton,” I whispered.

  He stood up as he stretched out his hand. “Come on,” he said, and then wrapped a fluffy bath towel around me.

  I followed him into the house, down the hallway, and into my bedroom.

  26

  As soon as I opened my eyes the following morning, I knew something was different. Stretched out beside me was Saxton, and I heard the soft sound of his breathing. Turning my head slightly, I gazed at his sleeping face. He was one handsome man. And after last night I knew he was also one incredible lover. Gentle yet passionate. We had shared an intimacy I couldn’t recall sharing with another man.

  I let out a sigh and allowed myself to relive the moments of the night before. My fingertip stroked his cheek and I smiled as he began to stir.

  Shifting onto my side, I felt his hand reach out, and he placed it on my thigh as he opened his eyes, a smile covering his face.

  “Good morning, beautiful. I love you.”

  “Good morning, handsome. I love you too,” I said as I relished waking to those words.

  His fingers drew circles on my inner thigh, and I luxuriated in the act of making love with a man I not only loved but felt a deep connection with.

  “Coffee could be a little late this morning,” he whispered as he edged closer to me. “I hope you don’t mind.”

  At the moment, coffee was the last thing on my mind.

>   Later that afternoon, we sat at an outdoor restaurant in Dahlonega, holding hands and having a hard time keeping smiles from our faces.

  “After we eat, we can walk around the shops,” Saxton said.

  “It’s most unusual for a man to enjoy shopping, you know.”

  The smile on his face increased. “Oh, I’m not sure I’d go that far. But I do enjoy being with you. Besides, you don’t take hours on end in the shops like some women do.”

  “Well, I do know I want to stop at that chocolate shop we saw as we drove into town.”

  “Ah, you have to make a comparison to your chocolate and Angell and Phelps?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, something like that. But I have no doubt theirs doesn’t have the magical quality that mine does.”

  “I have to agree with that—everything about you is magical. I have a question for you though.”

  “Yes, I most definitely love you.”

  Now Saxton laughed and shook his head. “That’s very good to know, and I love you too. But . . . I’ve never mentioned it . . . however. . . is there a reason you have that purple streak in your hair?”

  I took a sip of ice water and shifted to see him better. “Before I answer that, I have a question for you. Why has it taken you so long to ask me that?”

  “Well, I guess because . . . I honestly don’t know.” He let out another laugh. “And it isn’t that I don’t like it. It’s part of who you are, so I guess I’m just curious.”

  “I’m not sure I have an answer for you. A few years ago after I broke up with the guy I’d been seeing, I wanted something different. Maybe I wanted to be different. I thought about a nose ring or a tattoo . . . but ended up deciding the purple streak in my hair was enough of a change.”

  Saxton squeezed my hand. “I’m glad that’s the choice you went with.”

  “Gosh, tomorrow’s our last day here,” I said, as the waitress placed quiche and a cup of soup in front of me.

  “Will you be sad to go home?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. This has been incredibly wonderful. I’ve loved every single minute, but . . . it’ll be good to get home.”

  “And tomorrow we’ll drive to Helen. It’s a cute little Alpine village. I think you’ll like it there.”

  I leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’ve loved all of this . . . and especially you.”

  When we hit the Number Four bridge on Sunday afternoon, I let out a deep sigh. Saxton slowed the car to the requisite thirty miles per hour and I soaked in the view on both sides—shimmering blue water, patches of sawgrass, pelicans swooping—and I knew I was blessed. Not only did I live in a slice of paradise, but the man I loved was beside me.

  We had mutually decided to spend the night at our own places. I had just finished unpacking when there was a knock on the door. Saxton changing his mind? But I opened the door to find Chloe with a casserole dish in her hand.

  “Welcome home. I didn’t think you’d want to cook, so I made you a tuna casserole. Nothing fancy but thought you might like it.”

  “That was so nice of you. Come on in. Did you eat yet or can you share some with me?”

  “I was hoping you’d ask,” she said, and followed me into the kitchen.

  “I’ll pop some biscuits into the oven to go with it. Wine? Tea?”

  “Oh, a glass of wine would be good. Gosh, we were busy at the yarn shop today,” she said, removing a cabernet from my wine rack.

  “Busy is good.” I placed two glasses on the table for her to fill.

  “And guess who dropped by and will be starting the beginners’ knitting class?”

  I shook my head.

  “Ava. Ava Wells. She’s pregnant! Can you imagine? After all these years. Due in March, and she’s over the moon. Says it’s all due to your chocolate.” Chloe laughed and passed me a glass.

  “Get outta here! Really? That’s great, but I doubt my chocolate had much to do with it. Here’s to Ava,” I said, lifting my glass in the air.

  “Well, you’ll have a hard time trying to tell her otherwise. She’s convinced it was your signature chocolate clams that did it.”

  I thought of Mr. Carl and Miss Raylene, but refrained from saying any more. “Thank you so much for watching Sigmund for me.”

  “Oh, he’s a sweetie. Very easy to care for. So I take it you had a good time?”

  “The best. It gave Saxton and me a chance to really get to know each other. We’re very compatible in almost every way.”

  “Almost?”

  I laughed. “Well, he tends to be a bit untidy, but I think we can work through that.”

  “Keep separate living quarters?” Chloe chuckled and took a sip of wine.

  I popped the biscuits into the oven and joined her at the table. “We haven’t discussed living together, so I guess that’s a solution.”

  “I take it this has climbed up to serious?”

  I let out a deep sigh. “I think you could say that. I thought I had fallen in love with him before we went on the trip, and over the five days together we both admitted it to each other.”

  “That’s great, Berkley. I’m really happy for you.”

  “Oh, before I forget. My friend Jill is coming next month for Thanksgiving. I’m not sure what your plans are, but I want you to know you and Cameron are invited too.”

  “Thanks, but we’ll probably have dinner at Aunt Maude’s with Grace and Lucas.”

  “How’re they doing? Any update on when they’ll be back?”

  “November first. I have to admit, after six months, I’m really missing my sister. I’ll be glad when they get home.”

  I removed the casserole from the microwave and the biscuits from the oven.

  “Thanks again for supper tonight, Chloe,” I said as I placed it on the table.

  “My pleasure. Plus I missed you. So I figured we needed to catch up.”

  I took a bite of casserole. “Delicious. Yeah, there’s something special about female friendships, isn’t there?”

  She nodded. “The thing is, I thought I had female friendships when I lived on St. Simons Island. But I know now they were only superficial. Women I knew from fund-raisers or the garden club or whatever. None of them were true friends. Not like I have here with you and Grace and Suellen.”

  I knew the feeling. Except for Jill, I had never had genuine friendships with women until I moved to Cedar Key.

  “Are you and Dora all set for Seafood Festival next weekend?”

  “Oh, yeah. By the way, will you have that yarn you mentioned? The skeins with different shades of green?”

  “I’ll finish spinning it tomorrow and definitely have it ready for you. That reminds me, I’d better give Angell and Phelps a call. I’ll be needing more of their chocolate for the weekend.”

  “Looks like we have a busy week ahead.”

  After Chloe left, I got into my pajamas, curled up with Sigmund on the sofa, and knitted till bedtime. I was just about to shut off the lights and head to bed when the phone rang.

  “Just wanted to call and say good night. I miss you, Berkley, and I love you.”

  “I miss you too.” And I did. It would seem odd not falling asleep beside Saxton. “Are we still meeting for lunch tomorrow at noon?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll meet you at the Pickled Pelican. Good night.”

  “Good night, Saxton. I love you.”

  I got into bed, lay there for a few minutes, and then reached over and snapped off the light.

  27

  “She’s what?” I said, and leaned across the table because surely I had just misunderstood what Saxton had told me.

  He let out a sigh, ran his hand through his curls, took a sip of sweet tea, and nodded. “I know. I could hardly believe it either. I mean, God, I was thrilled that Resa agreed to come to Cedar Key. But with her mother? I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

  Obviously, neither was I. “So Muriel will be coming with her?”

  “Apparently so,” he said, and took another gulp of tea
.

  I couldn’t account for it, but a ripple of jealousy spread through me. They had been divorced for years—why should her visit matter to me?

  “I see. So when are they coming?”

  “In two weeks. They arrive on November first for three nights. Muriel has already booked a room for them at the bed and breakfast. They’re flying into Gainesville, will rent a car, and drive here.”

  I took a sip of ice water and nodded. “Well . . . I’m sure you’re thrilled that you’ll be seeing your daughter again. I know you’ll enjoy that. Did she say why her mother was coming with her?”

  “Resa said her husband couldn’t take time from his schedule to accompany her and she didn’t want to come alone, which I can understand. After so many years, it might be a bit awkward. I just hope the meeting goes well.”

  I did too. I really did.

  “Listen,” he said, reaching to take my hand. “I was hoping you’d join us for a dinner. I’d love for you to meet Resa and, well, we are a couple now. I thought I’d also invite Doyle so he can meet her.”

  Oh, great. Meeting his daughter was one thing—but the ex-wife too? I knew I should be a big girl about it, and said, “Sure. That would be fine. I’d love to meet your daughter.”

  He gave my hand a squeeze, causing me to feel a tiny bit guilty for my jealous thoughts.

  “Okay, I’ll book the Island Room for one of the evenings that they’re here.”

  The child in me kicked in again. Oh, goody, I thought.

  I returned home from lunch to find a message from my aunt on the recorder.

  I dialed the number and heard her chirpy voice answer.

  “This is Berkley. How’re you doing?”

  “Oh, ever so much better. I’m back on two legs again. But I guess my salsa dancing days are over. I’ll just have to find another pastime, like I don’t have enough already.”

  Her chuckle came across the line. “I wanted to let you know that I will be coming for Thanksgiving. I called and booked the Faraway Inn for Addi and me, and we’re all set. I’m driving down on Tuesday, if that’s okay with you.”