Honeymoon

Chapter 95

IT TOOK A red light for her to finally slow down.

After driving a little more than half an hour, we came upon the small town of Putnam Lake. There was one intersection, and we were the only car stopped at it. It was a little before nine. I remember every detail.

“Are we almost there?” I asked.

“Almost,” she said. “You’re going to like this, Craig. Relax.”

I glanced to my right while she fidgeted with the radio. There was an old man at a Mobil station, wearing a UConn cap, filling up his Jeep Cherokee. For a second our eyes met. He kind of looked like my father. Things aren’t always as they appear.

The light flashed green and Nora gunned it again.

“You in a hurry?”

“Yep. I’m a little horny, actually. I missed you. Miss me?”

We drove a few miles without saying anything, the blaring radio competing with all eight cylinders. I could barely make out the song, but then it clicked for me—“Hotel California.” The way Nora was driving, it should’ve been “Life in the Fast Lane.”

We turned again.

There was no street sign I could see, and the road was narrow and dark. I looked up at the sky. Whatever light had been shining from the crescent moon was now obscured by the towering trees. We were officially in the woods.

“I’m going to rule out Disneyland,” I said.

She laughed. “That’ll be our next trip.”

“You do know where we’re going, though, right?”

“Does someone not trust me?”

“I was just asking.”

“Sure you were.” She paused. “I was right, by the way.”

“About what?”

“You really don’t like it when you’re not in control.”

A minute later the paved road ended, but we kept going. There was nothing except dirt and loose rocks under the tires, the road even more narrow. The convertible made for a lousy SUV, and as it rattled along I turned to give Nora a silent, sideways stare.

“It’s only a little farther,” she said, her smile unchanged.

Sure enough, within a few hundred yards we came to a clearing. I tried to make out the silhouette before me. Some kind of small house—and behind it, a lake or pond.

Nora pulled up close to the front steps and shifted into park. “Isn’t this incredibly romantic?”

“Whose place is it?” I asked.

“Mine.”

I looked at the cabin. My eyes were beginning to adjust, and combined with the high beams of the Benz, I could make out the long, thick logs of the frame. It was rustic but well kept, though not a place I’d expected Nora to own.

“Surprise!” she said. “It’s a nice surprise, no? Don’t you like my little home on the water?”

“I do. What’s not to like?”

She cut the engine and we stepped outside. It was a beautiful spot all right, just about perfect. But for what?

“You know, I didn’t exactly pack a toothbrush,” I said.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all covered. I’ve got you covered, Craig.”

She pressed her remote and the car trunk opened, right on cue. What little “cargo area” the convertible offered was loaded. Not an extra square centimeter to be had.

“You did come prepared,” I said, staring down at a duffel and small cooler. Prepared for what?

“All the fixings for a terrific late supper. Plus a few odds and ends—including, yes, a spare toothbrush for you. So what are you waiting for?”

Back up, I wanted to say.

I grabbed the duffel and cooler, and we climbed a set of old wooden stairs. Once inside, I shook my head and smiled. From the outside, the cabin looked like Abe Lincoln’s childhood home. On the inside, it was a spread from a designer magazine. I should’ve known.

“This place belonged to a former client,” Nora said as we unpacked the food. “I knew he liked the decorating job I did. I was stunned when he left it to me.”

She walked over and wrapped her arms around me. As always, she smelled great, felt even better. “Enough about the past, though. Let’s talk about the future, as in what we should do first. Make love, or make dinner?”

“Hmm, that’s a tough one,” I said straight-faced.

Of course, it wasn’t supposed to be. She knew it and I knew it. What she didn’t know was that I was actually telling the truth. Sooner or later, the sex had to end.

You can’t keep doing this, O’Hara. Stop!

It was easier said than done. Her body pressed against mine. My thoughts raced, the temptation too much to bear.

“Call me crazy, but I haven’t eaten anything since this morning,” I said.

“Okay, you’re crazy, but we’ll eat first. There’s just one teensy problem.”

“What’s that?”

She turned and looked at the stove. It was a wood-burning one, and there was no wood. “Outside around back. There’s a shed about fifty yards away. Could you do the honors?”

I grabbed a flashlight from the hallstand by the front door and walked out toward the shed. Even with the flashlight it was dark out there. I don’t spook easily, but I heard a loud rustling in the bushes along the way and I wasn’t thinking Bambi.

Where the hell is the shed?

Should I be out here like this?

I finally found it and piled wood in my arms, enough to last the night. Then I started back toward the cabin. As I said—spooky. Maybe it was the old man I’d seen back at the gas station in town. Whatever it was, I couldn’t help thinking about my father again. Things aren’t always as they appear.