Page 5 of Stuck with You
Part II
The lake house.
3
The place is just as I remembered. Small, quaint, and very soothing. All the blinds are closed, and the first thing I do is pull them open and let the sun shine in. Abby and Baxter are yapping excitedly. Their tiny legs are busy as they run around and explore. Baxter seems fascinated by the old style wood stove — he’s never seen anything like it. Abby is busy barking at the wolf statue in the corner — she’s admittedly not the sharpest tool in the shed.
There’s a flower arrangement on the table — Beatrice must have been here recently. The dining table is new — a gorgeous slab of wood, held up by a large steel frame. The swirls of color in the grain of the wood is pure art. I can’t wait to have dinner on this thing — dinner for one. I sigh and make a mental note to ask Beatrice where she got it since I’m in the market for a new table. Jacob walked away with ours — in his defense, it used to belong to his grandmother. As it stands, I’m still eating on a cheap plastic folding table we used to take out for extra guests when we had large dinner parties. Seriously, when did my life become so damn depressing?
I stretch out on the sleek seventies-style futon sofa, and look out at the view. I can see the water in the distance and the scotch pines forming a canopy over the cottage, protecting it from the winds of the lake. I stretch out my legs for a moment before I settle in properly. I’ve got loads of food and stuff to unpack and put away.
I have the week all planned out… two good books on my Kindle, a few romantic comedies on DVD, the painting supplies Gabbie lent me, and a half-done not-so-great watercolor. I’ve also brought my bubble bath and one nice outfit — I plan to finish off the week with a nice dinner at the Old Mill; the only nice restaurant in the small town nearby. This week is all about escaping… the world, my thoughts… my life.
I’ve just about gotten everything settled, and the puppies are itching for a walk. That’s the thing about being a dog owner — they keep you active. No rest for the weary with these two. I’ve got my white capris on, a striped t-shirt, boat shoes, and a large rimmed sunhat on as we all set out for our walk. It’s a beautiful day — summer is here already. As I inhale the fresh air, I tell myself that everything will be okay.
I spot Ming in her garden. She’s the next door neighbor, a sweet elderly woman originally from somewhere in Indonesia. She’s been in the States for a long time and has just a hint of an accent. She’s one of the few people I know who is as tiny as I am. I love standing next to her because she’s actually a few inches shorter than me — it makes me feel so tall.
She shoots me a wave. A huge smile stretches across her face as she stands and heads right toward me.
“Hello Connie…” she cheers. I want to correct her and tell her my name is Corrie, but I don’t bother. I’ll be Connie if that’ll make things easier.
“Are those your doggies?” she asks, full of excitement. She doesn’t attempt to pet them — she seems to know better. Abby and Baxter are prickly that way — they don’t like to be touched by strangers.
“Yep…
“They are adorable.”
I smile. “Yep… and they know it too.”
“You have not been here for a long time,” she points out.
I blow out a breath as I do the calculations in my head. “Yeah… about two years, I guess.”
“Where is your handsome man… uh… Jacob?”
I can’t help but smile as I remember how she used to always call Jacob handsome, and he’d always blush a little. I guess the woman has a thing for tall, dark bearded men.
My heart sinks at the thought of him. “Um… Mr. handsome and I are broken up.”
Her eyes widen and she brings a hand to her mouth. “Oh no. What happened?”
Again, I smile because Ming is so clueless. She doesn’t seem to know that it’s rude to pry. I really don’t want to tell her that infertility has driven us apart, that I was tired of fighting, tired of letting him down. “Uh… we just grew apart… it happens.”
She cocks a brow in confusion. “Grew apart?”
“Wow, your garden looks fantastic, Ming,” I say in an attempt to change the subject. “You got new plants?” Ming is all about her garden and her cute little cottage, painted yellow and blue.
“Yes!” she says, and proceeds to regale me with information about all her new plants; flowers, herbs and even peppers.
She pulls out a small red pepper. “This pepper can kill you,” she says, her expression grave. “Carolina Reaper… hottest pepper in the world.” She picks one off, and hands it to me. It’s the cutest little thing. “A gift,” she says. “Be very, very careful… only a tiny bit… very, very, very spicy. Wash your hands after touching insides.”
“Oh… okay,” I say. I really don’t know what I can do with a tiny lethal pepper, but I stick it in my leather satchel with the doggie bags and treats.
Just as I’m about to say goodbye, I spot a tall man in the distance, walking towards us. As he nears, I see him more clearly. He’s a specimen; rough around the edges, a messy mop of dirty blond hair falls to his very beautiful shoulders. He’s wearing a ratty t-shirt and cargo shorts, a tool belt hangs off his hips. A tool belt! The man is a bored housewife’s wet dream.
Am I a bored housewife? I ponder the question for a second as he approaches.
“Hello, handsome,” Ming calls out. I guess Jacob’s been replaced.
