Chapter 1
Dark chocolate and
grand marnier mixed together to create a heavenly scent. Said scent
was currently drifting up my nostrils in sensuous wisps of devilish temptation.
I inched closer to the fondue pot and the plates filled with strawberries,
bananas, and pound cake. I am not here for this, I am not here for this, I
repeated over and over again in my head in a hopeless mantra.
In slow motion I saw myself lifting up a strawberry on a fondue stick, dipping it unwillingly in the fondue, and plunging it towards my traitorously willing mouth. I was startled by a sudden shout in my ear and turned quickly, my chocolate draped strawberry shooting off the fondue stick and directly into the amused face of Nicholas Stuart, my annoyingly good looking ex-boyfriend.
In slow motion I saw myself lifting up a strawberry on a fondue stick, dipping it unwillingly in the fondue, and plunging it towards my traitorously willing mouth. I was startled by a sudden shout in my ear and turned quickly, my chocolate draped strawberry shooting off the fondue stick and directly into the amused face of Nicholas Stuart, my annoyingly good looking ex-boyfriend.
"Nicky!" I squealed in
fake delight. He beamed back at me while wiping off the dark chocolate sauce
from his cheek absentmindedly and licking it slowly off his gorgeous finger. He
appeared to be staring at me with not a little bemusement. "Nicky?"
He said questioningly as he pushed closer to me than I wanted. "I really
need to see you in private." He whispered into my ear, the feathery caress
of his breath making me tingle all over. "After what you did to me?!"
I whispered back, not wanting to make a scene, ok, well, not more of a
scene than I had already made with the strawberry fondue fiasco.
People had stared and gasped or snickered, as they saw fit, at the visions that appeared before them when my ill-fated fondue dipped strawberry launched itself into (and off of) Nick's cheek not more than a few seconds ago. It was still laying a few inches away from us, on the tiled floor near the dessert table. In fact, some giggly little blonde slip of a woman in five inch heels and a size zero dress that appeared to have been made from a small black silk scarf, was currently walking towards it, while talking to an older man who looked ridiculous with his not so unnoticeable toupee, ripped jeans, tight blue t-shirt, and tattoo of barbed wire that circled his upper right arm, just noticeable under the t-shirt sleeve. I assumed he had money, the way she was fawning over him and laughing at his not so amusing jokes. I started to say something to her, opting to be the better person and not let my instant dislike of her stop me from doing the right thing, but Nick chose that moment to caress the back of my neck with his thumb. I turned quickly back to gaze into his eyes, my senses overcome by the sight and smell of him and the amazing feel of his touch.
"Nick..." I gasped, feeling a little punch drunk on the hormone rush that was currently overpowering me. He grinned back at me. "That's more like it." He said with, what I swear was, a low growl of manly pleasure at my obvious response to his charms. "Now that I have your attention again, kitten, I need to see you alone. Immediately." He demanded, his voice turning quiet again, so low that I was sure I was the only one who could even hear it.
"Nicky, this is not really the time or place," I began, a little too breathlessly for my own tastes. What den of inequity had I unwittingly entered today? Obviously, my body was not willing to cooperate with me in any way today, lusting after both the fondue and Nick, even when I had mentally told it in no uncertain terms that neither were on the menu. The only way to fend him off, I decided, was to annoy him by continuing to call him Nicky, a nickname I knew he hated.
People had stared and gasped or snickered, as they saw fit, at the visions that appeared before them when my ill-fated fondue dipped strawberry launched itself into (and off of) Nick's cheek not more than a few seconds ago. It was still laying a few inches away from us, on the tiled floor near the dessert table. In fact, some giggly little blonde slip of a woman in five inch heels and a size zero dress that appeared to have been made from a small black silk scarf, was currently walking towards it, while talking to an older man who looked ridiculous with his not so unnoticeable toupee, ripped jeans, tight blue t-shirt, and tattoo of barbed wire that circled his upper right arm, just noticeable under the t-shirt sleeve. I assumed he had money, the way she was fawning over him and laughing at his not so amusing jokes. I started to say something to her, opting to be the better person and not let my instant dislike of her stop me from doing the right thing, but Nick chose that moment to caress the back of my neck with his thumb. I turned quickly back to gaze into his eyes, my senses overcome by the sight and smell of him and the amazing feel of his touch.
"Nick..." I gasped, feeling a little punch drunk on the hormone rush that was currently overpowering me. He grinned back at me. "That's more like it." He said with, what I swear was, a low growl of manly pleasure at my obvious response to his charms. "Now that I have your attention again, kitten, I need to see you alone. Immediately." He demanded, his voice turning quiet again, so low that I was sure I was the only one who could even hear it.
"Nicky, this is not really the time or place," I began, a little too breathlessly for my own tastes. What den of inequity had I unwittingly entered today? Obviously, my body was not willing to cooperate with me in any way today, lusting after both the fondue and Nick, even when I had mentally told it in no uncertain terms that neither were on the menu. The only way to fend him off, I decided, was to annoy him by continuing to call him Nicky, a nickname I knew he hated.
Before I had too long to consider
how mortified I should be at my traitorous body and to see if my plan to annoy
Nick into leaving me alone would work, I heard a high pitched scream and crash
as one of the giggly blonde's high heels introduced itself to the chocolate
fondue sauce that I had not yet had a chance to clean up from the floor. I had
forgotten all about her and the accident that I had seen coming, meant to head
off, but didn't, due to my slight distraction with Nick.
Luckily the fall wasn't too terrible. She fell on her behind and seemed to actually enjoy the attention she was getting from the fall, allowing bald tattoo guy to help her up and support her over to a nearby table where she played up her ankle "injury" for all it was worth. He was so totally into the helpless, vulnerable female thing that I was sure this fall had helped her more than it had physically hurt her.
Nick was also distracted by the crash, and moved towards her in an instinctive response to help. It was all the distraction I needed to hightail it out of there. Which I did. By the time he turned around to where I had been, I was sliding out a side door that was out of his view. I rushed to my car, climbed in and drove quickly away before he could burst out of the reception looking for me. I didn't know why he had wanted to see me alone, other than the obvious physical attraction we still shared for each other, and I decided I didn't really want to know.
Of course, saying that to myself and convincing my brain of that were two different things and my thoughts kept drifting back to him as I drove the hour and a half it took to get home. Only the grumbling of my very empty and very hungry stomach allowed me to finally become distracted from thoughts of him and what he had wanted. The minute I walked in the door to my cozy little house I set everything down and moved straight to the kitchen to fix myself a real meal. No matter how much the end of my relationship with Nick had hurt me in the past, I could at least be grateful that his unexpected appearance at my friend's wedding reception had prevented me from gorging on chocolate fondue.
In fact, an hour later, with a full belly of salmon, sweet potato, and broccoli, I was even able to lay down and fall right asleep with no lingering thoughts of him. Amazing what a good meal can do for your mood I thought as I was drifting off. Well, that and a few long island ice teas, I would have thought if I was being honest with myself or had stayed awake long enough to think that. Blissful unconsciousness took over and made me it's best friend for the night instead.
Luckily the fall wasn't too terrible. She fell on her behind and seemed to actually enjoy the attention she was getting from the fall, allowing bald tattoo guy to help her up and support her over to a nearby table where she played up her ankle "injury" for all it was worth. He was so totally into the helpless, vulnerable female thing that I was sure this fall had helped her more than it had physically hurt her.
Nick was also distracted by the crash, and moved towards her in an instinctive response to help. It was all the distraction I needed to hightail it out of there. Which I did. By the time he turned around to where I had been, I was sliding out a side door that was out of his view. I rushed to my car, climbed in and drove quickly away before he could burst out of the reception looking for me. I didn't know why he had wanted to see me alone, other than the obvious physical attraction we still shared for each other, and I decided I didn't really want to know.
Of course, saying that to myself and convincing my brain of that were two different things and my thoughts kept drifting back to him as I drove the hour and a half it took to get home. Only the grumbling of my very empty and very hungry stomach allowed me to finally become distracted from thoughts of him and what he had wanted. The minute I walked in the door to my cozy little house I set everything down and moved straight to the kitchen to fix myself a real meal. No matter how much the end of my relationship with Nick had hurt me in the past, I could at least be grateful that his unexpected appearance at my friend's wedding reception had prevented me from gorging on chocolate fondue.
In fact, an hour later, with a full belly of salmon, sweet potato, and broccoli, I was even able to lay down and fall right asleep with no lingering thoughts of him. Amazing what a good meal can do for your mood I thought as I was drifting off. Well, that and a few long island ice teas, I would have thought if I was being honest with myself or had stayed awake long enough to think that. Blissful unconsciousness took over and made me it's best friend for the night instead.
I woke up to a headache the next
morning. And my mouth felt a little cottony. Three too many long island ice
teas, I thought regretfully. Drinking wasn't something I often did. Especially
long island ice teas. I made a mental note not to do that again anytime soon.
Or ever. Then I dragged myself into my bathroom and gulped down a few aspirin
with a glass of water. I brushed my teeth and my tongue and headed downstairs
for an attempt at breakfast.
The smell of eggs and coffee made my stomach turn over a little so I grabbed some saltines from the cupboard, turned off the stove, and made my way quickly back to my bed to lay down for a few more hours.
Around noon I woke up again and felt much better. I ate some oatmeal and drank some orange juice and then grabbed my camera case and got to work sorting through wedding pictures. I had been at the wedding reception (and wedding) yesterday for my friend Callie because: a) we were roommates in college and b) I was an extremely cheap, i.e. free, photographer. I had actually been done taking pictures last night and already said goodnight to Callie and was about to leave when my empty stomach had propelled me towards the dessert table.
As someone who shoots photos at a lot of weddings and receptions, I have learned the hard way how many calories those amazingly good tasting appetizers and desserts have hidden in them and try not to eat at all when I am on the job. Sometimes I make it without eating anything and sometimes I cannot seem to escape without indulging. Last night was almost one of those nights that I was sucked into the dessert table black hole.
I tried to avoid thinking about the reason why I had avoided that temptation. Once I really began working on the photos, which I had uploaded from the memory cards to my computer, I did forget about Nick. Cropping and editing all the photos and picking out the best ones for Callie and her new husband, Brad, was engrossing and I spent the rest of the afternoon working on it.
Finally, I had a good collection of 200 images that I posted to my website under the password I had selected for their wedding. I sent Callie an email telling her how wonderful the wedding had been and what a beautiful bride she was, sent her the password to access the online album, and asked her to pick out the ones she wanted me to make actual photos of and put in her wedding photo album. I knew she and Brad were going on a cruise for their honeymoon and so I didn't expect to hear back from her soon about the photos but I knew I had captured some great shots and that she would love the photos of the wedding. I felt the satisfaction of a job well done.
The smell of eggs and coffee made my stomach turn over a little so I grabbed some saltines from the cupboard, turned off the stove, and made my way quickly back to my bed to lay down for a few more hours.
Around noon I woke up again and felt much better. I ate some oatmeal and drank some orange juice and then grabbed my camera case and got to work sorting through wedding pictures. I had been at the wedding reception (and wedding) yesterday for my friend Callie because: a) we were roommates in college and b) I was an extremely cheap, i.e. free, photographer. I had actually been done taking pictures last night and already said goodnight to Callie and was about to leave when my empty stomach had propelled me towards the dessert table.
As someone who shoots photos at a lot of weddings and receptions, I have learned the hard way how many calories those amazingly good tasting appetizers and desserts have hidden in them and try not to eat at all when I am on the job. Sometimes I make it without eating anything and sometimes I cannot seem to escape without indulging. Last night was almost one of those nights that I was sucked into the dessert table black hole.
I tried to avoid thinking about the reason why I had avoided that temptation. Once I really began working on the photos, which I had uploaded from the memory cards to my computer, I did forget about Nick. Cropping and editing all the photos and picking out the best ones for Callie and her new husband, Brad, was engrossing and I spent the rest of the afternoon working on it.
Finally, I had a good collection of 200 images that I posted to my website under the password I had selected for their wedding. I sent Callie an email telling her how wonderful the wedding had been and what a beautiful bride she was, sent her the password to access the online album, and asked her to pick out the ones she wanted me to make actual photos of and put in her wedding photo album. I knew she and Brad were going on a cruise for their honeymoon and so I didn't expect to hear back from her soon about the photos but I knew I had captured some great shots and that she would love the photos of the wedding. I felt the satisfaction of a job well done.
Since I had nothing else pressing after working on the
photos, I thought about what I should do for the rest of the day. Maybe a hike
in a local state park? Maybe the mall. Maybe an online poker tournament? Hey,
don't judge. I was good at it! Damn good! Don't hate on me for that. Just
because I only played free tournaments and had only made it as high as 11th in
a tournament didn't mean I couldn't kick some ass at a World Poker Tournament.
I was saving the money for the entry fee. Those poker champs were lucky I
wasn't already entered into a tournament, due to lack of funds. I would so
totally kick their asses!
Yeah. But, since I had no money for that, I thought about
what else I could do since the hike and the mall just didn't seem to be
interesting to me at the moment. I finally decided on a nice drive. I loved to
drive and it helped to clear my head. Which needed some clearing right now,
believe you me, what with all this Nick stuff happening!
Nick. I found my mind wandering as I got ready to head
out for my drive. If only he had not done what he did to me....I mean, asking
me to marry him. I had to cut the ties for that. So sad since I had been so in
love with him.
Chapter 2
I love driving around and discovering new places. Driving
out in the country and imagining living in one of the houses I find occasionally,
set back from the road, with an inviting covered porch and a cute dog or two in
the yard. So that is how I found myself driving along some back roads,
intrepidly exploring the great outdoors from the comfort of my portable air
conditioning unit, otherwise known as Big Bertha, aka my sweet little silver
lilac Audi Quattro TT.
I stopped occasionally to take shots of some of the wild
flowers, cows, and horses that dotted the landscape and inhale the sweet smell
of honeysuckle, clean air, and, sometimes, cow manure. It gave me a warm, fuzzy
feeling to be out in the countryside. I didn't grow up in the country but it
was like a homecoming for me, being out here. Maybe some sort of an
instinctual, cellular level connection to the earth.
So there I was, driving around, feeling connected to
nature and my higher self, and feeling pretty high on life when I stopped to
take some shots of a run down barn surrounded by a field of wild flowers and
then it happened.
I was focused on a shot of a butterfly landing on one of
the flowers, adjusting my lens for the shot, when I heard a voice. Next to my
ear. Whispering softly like a warm caress. "Fancy this then, running into
you way out here" the voice said, "it's almost too good to be
true." It took a second for me to realize that it was not just a
daydreamed voice, but an actual person who had managed to move up next to me
whilst I was otherwise occupied, and was whispering in my ear. Maybe the first
clue to that was that it was an actual warm caress, as his breath came out hot
against my neck as he spoke to me.
I felt an involuntary tingle race through my body. And
sighed. "Hi Nick," I said. "You always do insist on doing things
on your own time and in your own way, don't you?" He whispered back, still
right next to my ear. I had not yet turned to face him as I had gotten my shot
and was focusing on another shot. I was hoping that if I did not see him then
he wasn't really real. "Princess...." He said in a frustrated
whisper, "Look at me." And then rubbed the back of my neck with his
thumb again, his tried and true way to get through to me.
I knew without looking that he was smiling that sexy
crooked smile when he felt me tremble beneath him. Yeah, he knew he still had
what it took to turn me into a hormone filled pile of mush." I ought to
wear a gas mask around you," I muttered, "your pheromones are
toxic." He laughed out loud at that. And that's when I turned my head to
the side to look at him, as he was lit up smiling and laughing and looked like
his undeniably gorgeous, lady killer self. Damn. When will I learn, I thought.
"Soooo....." he said, "what brings you out
to my neck of the woods?" I sighed again. I really was horrible at keeping
my resolutions. I had resolved to never see him again voluntarily but here I
was out near his farm house, on the edge of his property, taking pictures.
"Ummm, yeah." I said coherently. "I am
here because you said you needed me and, regardless of how much it pains me, I
care about your needs still." I said to him. He grinned. "I didn't exactly
say I needed you. I said I needed to talk to you." He told me. Such an
ass, I thought. "Look, I'm sorry I ran off. What did you need to talk to
me about?" I asked him in as pleasant a voice as I could muster under the
circumstances.
He walked off without replying. Back towards his house. I
knew I deserved that. I trailed after him. I looked back at my car. Did I
really want to leave it out here and come back for it? My baby that I spent
years saving for and hours lovingly washing and waxing? Not a chance. I went
back to my car, revved it up and pulled up next to him.
"Get in" I commanded. He looked at me like I
was crazy. And kept walking. So I drove to his house, got out of my car and
leaned against it, and waited for him in the driveway. I battled my feelings
for the 10 minutes it took him to walk back. I really wanted to run, get in my
car and run (or drive) as fast as possible away from him. I battled my demons
and forced myself to stay put. We really did need to talk.
Chapter 3
Next thing I knew, I sat idly stirring my finger in my
ice tea and watching as beads of water condensed on the side of my glass as I
sat sprawled across a comfy chair in the family room next to the kitchen.
When Nick had arrived at his house, he had asked if I was
hungry. Which, of course, I was. Nick was an excellent cook. We went inside and
I looked around to see if anything had changed.
The entryway had hardwood floors and a little marble
topped cherry table with a Japanese red maple bonzai tree, in a deep blue
oriental glazed pot, up against the far wall. Above the table hung the gilt
silver framed mirror I had found at an antique shop in Maine on vacation and
given to him for his entryway. It had an elaborate wreath of maple leaves around
the frame and I had stenciled the words “Sugar Shack” above the mirror back
when we used to be in love and cute things like that meant something to me.
He had not changed anything in the entryway. The maple
tree was thriving and the Sugar Shack stencils had not been painted away to oblivion.
This made me smile, which I hastily suppressed. While taking off our shoes, we
talked idle chit chat.
“Nice summer weather,” Nick stated, as he hopped on one
foot to remove the velcro on his sandal strap. He was wearing tan cargo shorts,
a dark green t-shirt that said “Keep Vermont Weird”, and dark brown sandals.
With velcro. Did I mention the velcro? He liked to be ‘stylish but comfy’ as he
put it. That five o’clock shadow made him sexy, stylish, and comfy, I found
myself thinking, irrelevantly. My other thought was, where else but Vermont is
cargo shorts, sandals, and a green t-shirt with a strange logo stylish? Yeah,
he had the quirky Vermont outdoor nature guy down perfectly.
“Yes,” I replied, slipping off both of my own sandals
quickly, “Sure beats winter.”
He stopped hopping, put his still sandaled foot down, and
frowned at me. “How could you say that?” He asked, disappointment clear in his
tone.
“Seriously?” I asked him. “You know I hate winter! Fall
is my favorite time of year here with the beautiful changing colors of the
leaves on the trees, the smell of wood smoke as people start using their wood
stoves, the crisp air….”
“But winter is sugaring time,” he admonished me. By
winter, he meant March. Because that is still winter in Vermont. There really
isn’t a spring here. There is a short season called “Mud Season” and then there
is an even shorter season called “Summer” and then there is a mildly longer
Fall season and an extended winter season.
I knew why he was admonishing me. We had once gone on a
snowshoeing trip at the Trapp Family Lodge/Estate in Stowe that included a
visit to their sugarhouse where we learned about the entire process of making
maple syrup. It was really cold, and our noses were runny and red while we were
snowshoeing to the sugar shack. But the beauty of the woods, still and quiet
and white with new snow, was intoxicating. We soaked in the magic of the moment
and that was the place, while helping me up after I fell face first into the
snow, that Nick first said he loved me. After first reciting a Robert Frost
poem he knew by heart, in a whisper in my ear. He recited the poem, Stopping by
the Woods on a Snowy Evening-
“Whose
woods these are I think I know.
His
house is in the village though;
He
will not see me stopping here
To
watch his woods fill up with snow.
My
little horse must think it queer
To
stop without a farmhouse near
Between
the woods and frozen lake
The
darkest evening of the year.
He
gives his harness bells a shake
To
ask if there is some mistake.
The
only other sound's the sweep
Of
the easy wind and downy flake.
The
woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But
I have promises to keep,
And
miles to go before I sleep,
And
miles to go before I sleep."
When I looked adoringly into his eyes after he recited
this, he said, loudly, “I love you Sarah Malbec!” Ummm, yeah, I know what
you’re thinking. Is her last name really the name of a wine? Is she part of
some famous French wine family? No. I’m not. My last name is really Summers.
Ironic, I know. But it is. Nick did not know this because he told me he loved
me on our third date. I still had not told him my real last name because he
could have been a psycho when we first met at a library and I agreed to meet
him again for a first date. So I did what any normal girl would do, I gave him
a fake last name. And then, when it seemed, after a couple of dates, that he
wasn’t a psycho (or complete idiot), I was at a loss for how to tell him I had
given him a fake name. Most other guys didn’t make it to date three so it had
never really mattered before. I was still trying to figure out how to tell him
my real last name while we were busy falling madly in love with each other on
our snowshoeing date through the incredibly gorgeous winter wonderland that is
Vermont five to six months out of the year.
His announcing that he loved me made it hard to think logically
after that. I remembered tasting the syrup, fresh from being boiled down and
condensed from sap, learning about all the different grades of syrup, and
eating an amazing dinner afterwards at Gracie’s, an iconic Stowe restaurant,
that was as romantic as the food was incredible. I still remember the Doggie
Bag dessert that we shared, which was a white chocolate ‘doggie bag’ filled
with mint chocolate mousse, surrounded by hot fudge sauce on the plate. It
included some “doggie biscuits” that were really short bread cookies shaped to
look like dog biscuits.
I remembered the second time he said he loved me, while
wiping the hot fudge sauce from dessert off my eyebrow (don’t ask) and then
grinning at me while choking down a laugh. I remembered him wiping off his
finger then wiping my eyebrow again, saying “I think there’s still a little
more” when there wasn’t really any more, then moving his hand from my eyebrow
down to my cheek and tenderly running it back through my hair, resting it at
the back of my head as he leaned in to kiss me softly.
I melted a little inside when I thought of that but, to
Nick, I tried not to show it. “I did like sugaring time,” I admitted as matter
of factly as possible, “but I hate winter overall.” At that, he quickly ducked
his head to look at his sandals and pull off the velcro straps. Probably
gloating secretly that he got an admission that I liked something to do with
him, I thought. I could just picture him grinning under his long bangs that
were now covering his face.
He stood back up, sandals off, and didn’t look at me as
he headed for the kitchen and family room with long strides. I followed slowly,
looking at the pictures on the wall as I walked down the hall. They were full
of memories. I turned away and picked up my pace, entering the family room just
as he had finished getting me a glass of ice tea. He walked in from the kitchen
and handed it to me then moved to the kitchen to start making us dinner.
Visions of his maple glazed pork tenderloins filled my mind. My mouth watered.
From my seat, I could see into the kitchen since the
kitchen opened into the family room. I asked if I could help but he just smiled
and shook his head. He grabbed the remote to turn on some music and Louie
Armstrong suddenly filled the room with his soliloquy on life, “What a
Wonderful World”. And, for a moment, it was.
