“To love is easy and therefore common - but to understand - how rare it is!”
L.M. Montgomery
Callie Morgan was more than happy to leave the sweltering heat of Dixie for a slightly less sweltering visit with a close friend living in Milwaukee. Especially when that friend, Loraine, announced that they would be traveling to the sparsely populated northern reaches of Wisconsin to celebrate the annual persied meteor shower at a weekend house party hosted by Loraine's former college roommate. Astronomy had fascinated Callie since childhood and if she'd been born with an aptitude for math, rather than a learning disability with it, she'd most likely have become an astronomer. The opportunity to witness the perseids with friends, in a place almost free of light pollution, was indeed a welcome one.
Loraine met her morning flight in Milwaukee and they immediately began the long drive north. It had been several years since the two women had last seen one another and so the hours and miles passed happily as they caught up with one another's lives and shared fond memories. Urban landscapes gave way to open countryside then to birch and pine woodlands. As the temperatures had cooled, they'd foregone the car's a/c in favor of open windows and fresh air, and Callie found herself relaxing for the first time since, well, since “then.”
Their destination was a charming A-frame cottage set in a secluded pine clearing inside an exclusive resort community near the Minnesota border. Though it was after midnight, lights still poured from numerous windows, illuminating the yard where Loraine parked her SUV among several others. As they climbed from the car, the front door opened and a middle-aged woman hurried out to greet them with a broad smile.
“You're here at last!”
She and Loraine laughed as they hugged, then she turned to Callie.
“And you must be Callie. Hi! I'm Denise. Welcome!”
Before Callie could respond, she was also engulfed in a warm hug, which she returned in kind.
“Hi, Denise. Thank you for having me.”
“I'm glad you're here. Now, grab your things and let's get you inside before the mosquitoes carry us away.”
Inside they were met by the other guests, all of whom were more old friends of Loraine's, and who extended the same warm welcome to Callie as their host had done. JC Talbott and her husband, Leon, were cuddled together at one end of a comfortable-looking sectional sofa, Barbara Carver and her partner, Tara, occupied the other end, while Denise's husband, Roger, sat on a stool at the morning bar with a ruggedly attractive middle-aged man, Adam Quinn. Both men stood when Denise introduced them.
Roger smiled after exchanging a hug with Loraine.
“It's good to see you again, Loraine.” He turned his attention to Callie. “And, Callie, it's a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you, Roger. I'm happy to be here.”
He turned to the man beside him.
“Loraine, you remember Adam?”
Loraine's smile widened.
“Of course I do. Hello, Adam. It's been a long time.”
Adam nodded with an easy smile.
“Too long, I'd say.”
Then he turned his attention on Callie and she promptly forgot everyone else in the room when she met his warm brown gaze. The attraction was instantaneous and powerful, and for long moments they simply stared at one another, saying nothing. Then Roger grinned knowingly and cleared his throat.
“Adam, this is Callie. Callie, Adam.”
She watched as if in a dream as Adam held out his right hand. It was warm and lightly calloused as it closed around hers.
“Hello, Callie.”
Somehow she managed to answer without croaking.
“Nice to meet you, Adam.”
He held her hand a little longer than necessary before Denise claimed everyone's attention.
“Well, it's late and I for one am exhausted. Loraine and Callie, come with me. You'll be sharing the bedroom across the hall from ours. Adam, are you sure you'll be comfortable on the daybed in the office?”
“I'll be fine, Denise. I learned long ago that I can sleep anywhere on anything.”
“Adam spent time in Iraq and Afghanistan as a Marine,” Roger explained before taking their suitcases, “I'll carry these up for you.”
With a last, surprisingly shy look at Adam, Callie followed Loraine and their hosts upstairs.
The next day, everyone but Callie and Adam took off for a morning of biking, leaving Callie to prepare her “world famous” potato salad for lunch and Adam, Callie suspected, to protect the house should Callie prove less than honest. After the salad was prepared and left to chill in the refrigerator, they took their drinks out onto the shaded deck and relaxed in Adirondack chairs. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, during which Callie stole surreptitious glances at Adam. He really was a physically beautiful man. Perhaps it was his military background that gave him that aura of strength and steadfast confidence. Whatever it was, the combination of the three was irresistible.
She stole another glance as he lifted the longneck to his lips, watched him take a sip then watched his throat as he swallowed. Even that...
Suddenly his eyes met hers and held them until she blushed like a young girl and looked away, missing his pleased grin. Searching frantically for something to say, she jumped on the first thing that came to mind.
“So, Adam, are you married?”
She closed her eyes in mortification. Boldness wasn't a trait she had been born with. Or so she'd thought before now. Whatever had happened to her customary subtleness?
Adam's grin grew when she took a hurried gulp of soda and promptly choked.
“Are you okay?” he asked, all innocent solicitousness, when she finally regained her breath.
“Yeah. Yes.” She took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the chair, closing her eyes as she wished the ground would open up beneath her. “Thank you.”
Resisting the urge to tease, Adam took another sip of beer before answering her question.
“No. I'm divorced. You?”
Opening her eyes, she watched a squirrel scurry along the branches of nearby trees.
“No. I came close once but it didn't work out.”
Silence stretched between them once again, allowing her embarrassment to fade.
“Denise said you're graphic artist.”
Callie nodded.
“Freelance. Mostly I design logos, that sort of thing, but occasionally I'll take a job designing book covers and ad layouts.” She looked at him. “What do you do now that you're no longer a Marine.”
“Ah, but I am a Marine,” he replied good-naturedly, “Once you sign on the dotted line you are forevermore a member of the few and the proud.”
She nodded and smiled.
“I stand corrected, sir. So, allow me to rephrase my question. I assume you're retired?”
“Five years ago and decided to devote my time to what had been my hobby. Woodworking.”
“Like carpentry?”
“Some. It pays the bills. But what I really enjoy is sculpting.”
“Really? What do you sculpt?”
“Different things.”
“Such as?”
“It depends upon the piece of wood. If I find a piece I like, I study it for a while until it reveals itself to me in my imagination. Then I simply carve away what isn't part of what I see.” He shrugged, a little self-consciously. “I know that sounds pretty strange.”
She shook her head.
“No, not at all. I do something similar when I take a job. I ask a lot of questions, get a feel for what the client is looking for, then wait for something to materialize in my mind. Then I go from there.” She cocked her head slightly. “What do you do with your finished work?”
“Depends upon its purpose. Sometimes I sell it. Other times I gift it. Occasionally I'll donate it to help raise money for a cause.”
“Have you had any showings?”
“Nah. That's not for me.” He grinned unapologetically. “I'm far from being an artiste.”
She smiled in return.
“No, you're definitely not the type to have wildly blown hair or wear long, dramatic scarves as you zip around the city in a convertible.”
He chuckled as he raised his hand to his close cropped head, where his gray-shot dark hair still grew thick.
“Nope. Definitely not.”
They talked until the others returned. After lunch, some of them gathered around the dinner table to play Farkle. It didn't take Callie long to master the basics and begin winning games until the others grumbled good-naturedly, calling her a Farkle shark. Later, steaks were barbecued on the deck and the evening hours spent in lively conversation. Callie found Loraine's friends good company and thoroughly enjoyed being included in their camaraderie. Especially when Roger pulled out his ukulele.
Close to midnight, they all dressed for the chilly northern night, grabbed flashlights, and made their way along a path through the trees to a deserted golf course. There they spread blankets on the ground and settled in to watch the show.
“Would you like to share?”
Callie smiled up at Adam as she motioned to the wide space beside her and was rewarded with a smile in return as he accepted.
It was only moments later when they saw their first meteor streak across the sky, followed almost immediately after by another, and so it went for quite a while. Ooo's, ahh's, and wow's punctuated the dark, moonless night, along with an occasional giggle that made the others chuckle knowingly. So wrapped up were they in the celestial spectacle that they at first didn't notice the strange, rhythmic hiss approaching from someplace further back on the golf course. Not until Callie felt a sudden poke beneath her, followed by cold water raining down around them all, did it finally click.
In a flurry of bodies, blankets, and laughter, everyone was soon running back toward the woods, with Callie and Adam bringing up the rear because their soaked blanket had become stubbornly entangled in the sprinkler head beneath it. Once inside the cottage, the laughter continued as towels were distributed, but Denise's offer of hot cocoa all around was declined. Everyone agreed it was very late, they were all tired, and they just didn't think they could take any more hilarity that night! So good-nights were exchanged, lights were extinguished, and very soon the cottage had grown quiet except for an occasional snore.
Sometime later, Callie was awakened by a strange noise from someplace down the hall. Moments later she heard it again. A moan? A stifled cry? The sounds came again and they definitely weren't indicative of a passionate coupling. Rising up on one arm she continued to listen, concerned that someone might need help. Then she heard a door open and quiet footsteps walk past the bedroom door and down the stairs to the room below.
Loraine slept on, undisturbed, and there were no other noises that would indicate anyone else was awake, so Callie rose and donned a robe before slipping quietly from the room. As she approached the balcony overlooking the living room, a light was switched on in the kitchen followed by the sound of water running in the sink. She carefully made her way down the stairs and followed the light to the kitchen.
Inside, Adam was standing at the sink staring out the window into the dark. The light was coming from over the stove, which gave off just enough glow to move around without fully illuminating anything. His back was to her so she wasn't able to see his face, but tension radiated palpably from him. As she watched, he whispered a curse as his head fell back in obvious despair.
“Adam? Are you okay?”
He turned so fast that she barely had time to register it before he uttered another, louder curse and sagged against the counter, glaring at her.
“Jesus H. Christ, Callie! Don't ever sneak up on me like that again! If I'd had a gun...”
Her heart was pounding but after a few shocked moments she managed to draw a deep breath.
“I-I'm sorry for startling you.”
His glare slowly eased until he sighed heavily, looked away, and raised a hand to his face. The room was so quiet she heard the faint sound of his whiskers rubbing against his fingers. His voice when he spoke was little more than a hoarse mumble.
“And I'm sorry for over-reacting.”
After a moment she stepped further into the kitchen. Not certain what else to do, she opened the freezer door then smiled encouragingly at him.
“When I have bad nights I find a bowl of rocky road helps to ease my nerves. Would you like some?”
He watched in silence as she carried the carton to the counter, took two bowls from the cabinet, then began rummaging quietly through drawers looking for a scoop. He didn't object when she began scooping ice cream into the bowls. Finally he managed a small smile in surrender.
“Give me four scoops.”
She glanced at him in mock horror.
“Four! But that only leaves about five for me!”
Pleased that she'd managed to get a smile out of him, she stuck spoons in the bowls and handed him one. Together they rounded the breakfast bar and took seats on the two stools. Neither said anything as they ate with only the sounds of someone's snoring and the occasional clink of a spoon on pottery breaking the silence. Callie was content to offer whatever comfort she could by simply being there. She knew what it was like to struggle with demons. She'd battled her own for years before finally finding peace with herself.
After a few minutes, he finished his ice cream and set his bowl aside before looking up at her.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For the ice cream. For caring.” He paused. “For understanding.”
She rested her spoon in her uneaten ice cream and set the bowl aside.
“I don't know what haunts your nights, Adam, but I know what it's like to live with ghosts. I probably understand more than you know.”
Their eyes met and each recognized the truth in the others. Then he turned and folded his arms on the bar. After a moment he took a deep breath. His voice when he spoke was quiet and husky.
“War is hell and it comes home with you.”
She nodded and waited, her expression full of pitiless compassion.
“I watched a lot of my friends die. Watched some lose their humanity in the heat of battle and commit horrible acts that before the war they never would have thought of doing.” He paused, staring straight ahead. Lost in memory. “I killed until I felt nothing. It was kill or be killed. Sometimes it felt like it was just another job.” Again he paused. “Then one day I saw something, did something that I...”
His voice cracked and she reached over, laid her hand on his arm. When he spoke again, his voice had grown hoarse in sorrow.
“One of the men I served with had gone over the edge. Completely lost it. He was attacking a woman he'd found hiding in some rubble. I can still see her face. She was terrified. She wasn't some insurgent waiting to blow herself up and take us with her. She was simply hiding.”
He stopped and she gave his arm an encouraging squeeze.
“What happened?”
“I ordered him to stop. When he didn't I tried to pull him away from her and he turned on me. It all happened in slow motion. One second he was raising his weapon and the next he was dead.” His voice cracked then resumed in an eerie monotone. “I don't remember killing him. Not when I'm awake. But I see it happening in my sleep. Over and over. And you know what's worse?”
She shook her head.
“In my dreams he actually thanks me.”
“Oh, Adam.”
More silence then he took a deep breath.
“I was absolved of any wrong doing and everything went back to the way it was before. It was like everyone just wrote it off as one of those things. But I couldn't.” He smiled grimly. “I spent a lot of time with the chaplain. Poor guy. But he was the one who helped me hold myself together so I could finish my tour without completely losing my mind. When I came home I spent time in treatment in a VA hospital with others who had seen what I'd seen and sometimes done worse than what I'd done. Some came and went. A couple never came back.”
“But you stayed.”
He nodded.
“We did art therapy sometimes and that's where I learned to work with wood. It gave me a way of working out my emotions. Eventually I went from recreating my anger in these strange abstract ways to recreating the beauty I was rediscovering in life. It became my trade and I designed and built furniture to support myself. But it was the sculptures that gave me peace.”
She gave his arm another squeeze then reached for her bowl of ice cream.
“I'd love to see some of your work someday.”
He turned and pointed toward a small curio across the living room. She had admired Denise's eclectic collection of figurines and knick knacks from the moment the older woman had shown them to her, but the curio with its elegant art deco lines was itself a beautiful work of art.
“I gave that to them on their thirtieth wedding anniversary. Denise had said she needed something to house her collection so I made it for her.”
Her spoonful of rocky road paused as she lifted it toward her mouth.
“You made that? Oh, Adam, it's beautiful!”
He nodded.
“Thank you. It seemed to take forever before I found just the right materials then I took my time so I could get it right. Denise and Roger are two of my best friends. I wanted to do right by them.”
“And you succeeded. I know she's very proud of it.” Callie smiled and took a bite of ice cream. “She spent as much time talking about how much she loved it and how perfect it was for 'showing off her memories', as she put it. But she never mentioned where she'd got it.”
Adam smiled.
“She knows how I feel about that.”
They lapsed into silence and when she realized he wasn't going to say anything further, she decided to share her own memories in return and set aside the now empty bowl. She clasped her hands together and cleared her throat.
“I kind of understand how you felt when you...” She took a breath. “I, um, I also killed someone.”
He turned to her in shock.
“You?”
“Yes. It was an accident but it was my own bad judgment that caused it.”
“What happened?”
“It was my twenty-first birthday. I was in college and my friends had taken me out to celebrate.” Her mind drifted back to that horrible night. “We were drinking, of course.” She smiled slightly. “I loved extra strong banana daiquiris and the bar where we went just off campus just happened to make them that way.” She paused, remembering. “We had a great time. It was ladies night and there was an all male revue that night, if you know what I mean.”
He smiled.
“I'm pretty sure I do.”
“Yeah, well, we kept ordering drinks with our cards and stuffing dollars, you know.”
“I get it.”
“So I was pretty blitzed. There were two shows that night and we stayed for both of them. I don't know where all those dollar bills kept coming from but I kept stuffing them. After the second show we decided it was time to leave. The other girls wanted to call a cab but I insisted I was sober enough to drive. I got pretty belligerent with them and they finally threw up their hands and called a cab.” She shook her head. “I don't remember getting in the car. The next thing I knew I woke up in ICU. They say that I was driving way over the speed limit and tried to beat a yellow light. I t-boned another car that ran the other red light just as it turned green. It rolled, caught fire, and the driver died.” Again she shook her head. “Thing was, he was as drunk as I was. The police said we were both at fault, but I was the one who lived and was charged. I spent a month in jail then years on probation. I never went back to college.” She paused before admitting, “I tried to kill myself once with a bottle of tranquilizers I'd filched from a housemate. I thought I wanted to die but what I was actually doing was screaming for help.”
“What did you do?”
“Got help.” She smiled wryly. “It's amazing how fast you realize you want to live when you're about to die. So, after I got out of the hospital from the overdose, I checked into a mental clinic. It took a long time and a lot of hard work, but I finally learned to live with what I'd done and eventually made peace with myself. I've never forgotten and I still find myself grieving from time to time when my birthday rolls around, but I don't hate myself anymore. I tell my story to young people. To teenagers mostly and warn them what happens when you make bad choices like drinking and driving. In a way it keeps the other driver from having died in vain. Or at least that's what I tell myself.”
This time it was Adam who reached out and covered her clasped hands with his.
“I'm sorry that happened to you but I admire how you've dealt with it. It takes guts to admit when you've done something wrong, learn from it, and go on to use it to help others.”
“Didn't you do the same thing?”
He shrugged.
“I suppose.”
Their eyes met and it was impossible to say who hugged who first. For long moments they simply held one another, absorbing the warmth and comfort found in someone who truly did understand, before they drew apart. But their hands remained clasped.
“I don't think I can go back to bed,” he admitted, “I think I'm going to stay up for a while and read, or something.”
She shook her head..
“I don't think I can either.” She paused, considering. “ Why don't we go sit on the couch and keep each other company? Just 'be' for a while.”
He agreed and with a last hug they found their way to the sofa where early the next morning Denise found them sound asleep with his arm around her, her head on his shoulder, and the crocheted throw from the back of the couch spread across their laps.
With a self-satisfied smile she removed bacon from the refrigerator and set to making breakfast. She'd missed her calling. She really would have made an excellent matchmaker.
Another wonderful romance story filled with drama. Such remarkable and ironic circumstances. I think the ending might've been better had Callie and Adam gone out on the deck and watched the rest of the meteor shower until they fell asleep in each other's arms. You have a way of coming up with unique circumstances that bring people together, far beyond the usual physical attraction that gets things started.
In high school, I often saw what we called, falling stars, that with a date, we could wish on. I grew up in north central Wisconsin. I think the air there now is better than it was back when there were a lot of coal-fired furnaces spewing coal ash in the winter. But the local power company just converted from coal to natural gas, slow progress has been slow in clearing the air. There definitely wasn't any A/C to be found anywhere, except in cars even to the present day in some places.
Our high school genius and expert in all things mathematical and scientific, was keyed in on meteor showers and was out there with his cameras photographing whenever they came. I took them for granted. Wish that I could see meteor showers announced once in a while here in Texas. But you have to leave Metropolitan Houston some distance to see them, the light pollution is so bad.
Callie Morgan was more than happy to leave the sweltering heat of Dixie for a slightly less sweltering visit with a close friend living in Milwaukee. Especially when that friend, Loraine, announced that they would be traveling to the sparsely populated northern reaches of Wisconsin to celebrate the annual persied meteor shower at a weekend house party hosted by Loraine's former college roommate. Astronomy had fascinated Callie since childhood and if she'd been born with an aptitude for math, rather than a learning disability with it, she'd most likely have become an astronomer. The opportunity to witness the perseids with friends, in a place almost free of light pollution, was indeed a welcome one.
