A Pale Paradise, Page 3

  Chapter II

  Phyl pulled aside the gauzy, white bedroom drapes, and slid back under the covers, pulling the comforter up as she gazed at the early morning mist that lingered over the lake, the sun just starting to peek out through the trees. The muffled sounds from the kitchen, as Thad made their morning pot of coffee, drifted to her ears, and she sighed in contentment. The glimmer of sun on her beautiful Lake Saint Catherine, and the two Adirondack chairs side by side at the end of the pier brought a soft smile to her lips. She looked back over the glistening water, and she allowed her mind to drift back to one particularly hot afternoon the previous summer, when she and Thad had been fishing from the pier. She smiled as she remembered that day........

  Their only catch so far had been a tiny pan fish on the end of her line, and they had thrown the lucky little fish back into the lake. Deciding that they needed a snack, she climbed up the wide concrete steps to the house, leaving Thad on the pier to continue trying his luck at catching their dinner. As she had walked back down balancing the tray holding a basket of Emma's pastries and several, icy cold cans of beer, she had seen Thad coming up the steps toward her, a hefty yellow perch cradled in both hands. They had met on one of the stairs as she was half-way down...

  Phyl smiled, as she remembered her slight puzzlement at his bringing the fish up to her...

  "Wow, he'll do." She was impressed.

  "You do recall that important fishing tradition we have here at Lake Saint Catherine's, don't you?" He smiled at her seriously, his dark eyes crinkling in the sun. She squinted at him, not sure at all if she liked the look in his eyes.

  "What tradition?"

  "The loser has to kiss the winner's biggest fish," he grinned, raising his eyebrows at her.

  "Sorry, I don't kiss fish," she laughed dismissively and walked around him and continued back down the steps. "Don't even think about it." She glanced back at him.

  "Oh, I think you will." He laughed and started after her, pointing the hapless perch's mouth toward her, as she tried to dodge the large, slimy fish with her shoulder. She had to move faster to get away from him, and she ran down the steps, trying to balance the tray. She shrieked as he chased her with the perch, until reaching the end of the pier, the fish's mouth close behind, her only option was to toss the tray onto one of the chairs, and leap, screaming, into the lake, tennis shoes and all. She came up sputtering, and swiped the wet strands from her face as she looked up at him. What on earth had gotten into him? She was glad that she'd had on a sleeveless blouse, and shorts, but her tennis shoes were quickly filling with water and weighing her down.

  "All right, you win." He looked down at her, seeming disappointed, as she treaded water, watching him suspiciously. "I guess I'll have to show you how it's done." To her horror, Thad then turned the wiggling fish's mouth toward his face, held its mouth shut, and gave it a big kiss. Phyl couldn't believe what she had just seen.

  "That's disgusting!" she yelled up at him, laughing, and wanting to gag at the same time. "Don't plan on kissing me with those lips any time soon!" As she kept one arm out to her side, gliding it lightly back and forth, she reached under the water and removed one of her tennis shoes, and threw it at him. He ducked, then put the fish in the cooler, and started taking off his shoes. "Thad, don't you dare." He pulled off his polo shirt, leaving on his khaki shorts. She had this awful feeling that he might actually try to kiss her and she frantically worked at getting the other shoe off. Just as she had pulled it off, and was ready to throw it at him, she saw him dive cleanly into the water. She threw the shoe anyway, and it luckily landed on the pier. She'd hate to lose good tennis shoes all because of a fish. Phyl watched as Thad emerged from the water, using both hands to swipe the water off his face and smooth his short hair back off his forehead.

  "The water feels good, doesn't it?" he called over to her in a calm voice, and she saw him watching her, all the while treading water and smiling softly, water dripping from his short beard and hair, the sun glinting off his broad, wet shoulders.

  She continued to stare at him suspiciously. He slowly started swimming toward her, and she laughed and swam off to his right, in her haste, taking uneven strokes and splashing way too much. She glanced back quickly to see him swimming calmly, almost leisurely, in her direction, so she changed course again. She shot a glance behind her as she tried to get away from him, and couldn't see him. Phyl tried not to swallow the water she was splashing in her own face, as she looked around for him and tried to swim at the same time. She shrieked as she felt his hands grab her leg, then watched him bob up out of the water in front of her. She splashed him with both hands, and he let go to wipe his eyes, and she took off in the other direction. She hadn't known he was such a good swimmer. He hardly seemed winded, and he had that amused look on his face again. There was no way he was going to kiss her. She was really starting to tire, and had swallowed way too much lake water, so she turned to face him, and treaded water, her legs beginning to feel numb from the constant underwater motion as she tried to keep afloat.

  "All right, you win." She was exhausted, and just wanted to get back on the pier. She watched him swim up to her and peer at her seriously as they treaded water. "Thad, please don't kiss me," she pleaded, laughing. "I promise, it would be your last." He moved closer to her, and she saw his dark eyes gaze at her lips intently, with that amused look on his face. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and the creases beside his eyes deepened. She rubbed her lips together, and tried to think of what to do. As his face neared hers and she saw his lips get closer, she splashed him, and he grabbed her arms, and planted a quick kiss on her forehead, then let her go, and leaned back into the water, laughing, and wiping his eyes.

  "There." He floated on his back for a moment. "That will have to do, until next time."

  "That's what you think!" She splashed him again, making him sputter and go under for a second, as she headed toward the ladder. Finally, after checking behind her to make sure he wasn't going to pull her back in, she climbed up onto the pier and looked back down at him, as he floated on his back, his bearded chin up, eyes closed, and a soft, satisfied smile on his face as the sun glittered off the water around him.

  "Just for that, you can bring everything up before you clean the fish." She laughed down at him, as she grabbed her soggy tennis shoes. "I'm going in to take a long, hot shower before dinner." She smiled to herself, and turned toward the steps, as she saw him open one eye up at her, grin and slowly roll over, and swim for the pier.....

  Phyl smiled at the memory, pulling the comforter up around her neck. That grilled fish had tasted really good when they had finally gotten around to fixing dinner. She turned and saw Thad, shirtless and wearing his blue plaid pajama bottoms, slung down on his hips, enter the bedroom, carrying two of her hand-thrown mugs filled with steaming coffee.

  "Thank you." She raised her eyebrows in appreciation, and scooted herself up, adjusting her pillows and leaning back against the curved oak headboard, tucking the white comforter under her arms.

  "You're very welcome." Thad handed her one of the mugs, then sat on the side of the bed, and they sipped their coffee. This was one of her most treasured times, early in the morning, when he would bring her coffee, and they would quietly discuss their plans for the day. Then, on a normal weekday morning, she would start their breakfast, as he showered and got ready for his day at the clinic. They would eat together, sitting on the black Windsor chairs pulled up to the oak table in front of the window, then he would leave and she would dress in her throwing clothes and head down to her studio to work for five to eight hours, or, if it were a Tuesday, spend the day making her herb bread for distribution to the markets. She couldn't imagine anything better than their life together on Lake Saint Catherine. It was beyond anything she had even imagined when she'd made the decision to leave the financial world behind, and move to the remote spot in southern Vermont. As the sun rose over the lake, they sipped their coffee, discussing what each of them needed to accom
plish.

  "What are your plans for the day?" He turned to her, then rubbed his bearded chin and looked out toward the lake.

  Phyl sipped her coffee, admiring his handsome profile, his broad chest and shoulders as he continued to gaze at the autumn scene outside their window. He turned, sipping his coffee and waiting for her reply, unaware of the effect he had on her.

  "I need to run to Mike's this morning since we're out of a few things, then I need to throw a set of rice bowls, and start on a couple of large bowls for the Massachusetts gallery," she sighed and smiled at him. "Do you have a full day of appointments?"

  "It's a half-day today at the clinic." He scratched his jaw. "I need to check on a sick mare at Barclay's place north of Wellsley first thing this morning, but I shouldn't be too late tonight."

  "Good. Hey, let's try out that new French restaurant in town tonight."

  "That sounds like a plan." He sipped his coffee and smiled at her. "Well, let me get my shower and head out." He reached over and ran his warm hand slowly down her arm, letting it linger on her upturned hand for a moment. She smiled as he got up and headed back to the kitchen, then looked over at the lake one last time before sliding out from under the covers, setting her mug on the dresser and putting on her clean 'throwing' clothes - an old pair of jeans and a gray sweatshirt. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, grabbed her mug and headed out to the kitchen to fix breakfast.

  Thirty minutes later and Thad had left for Barclay's place and she was backing her burgundy Jeep out from under the carport. She swung the vehicle around and headed down their gravel driveway. She loved the short, but scenic drive into the small town of Wellsley, with the red covered bridge being her favorite landmark. In autumn, with the blazing foliage, it could take your breath away. She slowed down as she reached the picturesque town, with its circular town common and white, wood gazebo, and the rows of old brick or wood-framed buildings that housed antique shops, sandwich shops, and the hardware store. She pulled into a parking space across from the grocery store. She hopped out of the Jeep and eyed the white sign with "Wellsley Market" in neat black cursive. Entering through one of the double doors, she smiled and waved to the white-haired man ringing up a customer at the wood counter near the entrance.

  "Hi, Mike."

  "How are you doing, Phyl?" He smiled and waved to her, then returned to bagging the canned goods on the counter.

  She pushed the cart through the small store, brightly painted in white and green with dark wood accents. Normally a rather stout man, Mike looked thinner to her now, but he was still his jovial self. It had been over a year and a half since his wife, Annie, had died, and she sighed as she thought about how grief stricken he had been at her funeral. The store had been run by a family member for a few weeks after that, but Mike had explained to her later that returning to run the market had been his salvation. He had needed the normalcy, the physical labor, the conversations with his customers, and the feeling of being needed to help him work through his grief.

  She unloaded her cart, and looked over at his sparkling blue eyes, and smiled. She was crazy about this sweet man, thinking about all the times he had teased her about the weather, ever since her first blizzard at Lake Saint Catherine's in 'eighty-four.

  "How's Thad?" he smiled as he ran up her items."Haven't seen him around lately. Thirty-one, fifty-eight." He started bagging the fruits and vegetables into a paper bag while she counted her change.

  "He's fine. Up at Barclay's place today to check on a sick mare," she smiled as she started picking up the bags.

  "He's a fine veterinarian. Annie loved taking our Ginger to the clinic." Mike patted her on the shoulder. "You couldn't have found a better man, Phyl."

  "I agree wholeheartedly, Mike," she laughed as she moved over so the next customer could put their items on the counter. She lifted one of the bags up to wave goodbye to the sweet man as she pushed open the door and headed across the street to her Jeep.