Free Book Excerpts

A timeless story told from the perspective of a single father who juggles his romantic interests while coping with family issues and an unexpected career setback.

Excerpt

At the station lot, they quickly spotted the Mustang and got themselves organized to begin their trip Down East. They’d already put a change of clothes in an overnight bag and stowed it in the trunk. Before anything else happened, Cam loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt at the collar, and put his jacket on the back seat. He was all set. “Ready to travel, ma’am?”
“Ready, driver.”
Considering that they were in the midst of Friday rush-hour traffic, and that sunset was at a little after eight o’clock, they might run out of daylight before they got to Sturbridge. Didn’t matter. The evening and tomorrow were theirs to spend any way they liked.
When they were on a stretch of I-86 that had been completed, Cam let his ‘horse’ run. “Handles eighty, eighty-five pretty well,” he said.
“That is, until a state trooper spots you. Guess you like driving fast. It’s a part of your persona that I haven’t met.”
“I’m kinda short, so it makes me feel taller. No? Then let me try something else. I’m in a big hurry to get you into bed. Hmmm. Guess not. Seriously, do you want me to slow down?”
“Please? I’m not used to riding with Mario Andretti. If we’re fortunate enough to get there in one piece, we’ll be able to enjoy the treats that’ll be available later on.”
Cam pulled into the Drover’s Inn at a little after eight o’clock. They’d made exceptionally good time. After they checked in and had changed into something casual, they went off to find the Tricorn Tavern, a place recommended in an area guide supplied by the motel. It turned out to be a pretty good choice. The decor was colonial, the drinks tasty, the food appetizing, and the prices reasonable. It wasn’t quite high season yet.
“Back at the motel, Vicki asked, “We still have tomorrow ahead of us, but can you guess how I feel about our trip so far?”
“Let me try. You’re miserable and want to go home. Tonight.”
“You silly, lovable man. I already have such good memories to take back with me, but I’m really anticipating a wonderful day tomorrow. Everything is so different in the spring. It’s such pretty country and there’s so much history. I could easily live here.”
“It’s an option then, after your project is finished?”
“Certainly is, but it’d only work if the man in my life, the anchor I need, is here to teach me how to be a New Englander.”
“How would I know much about that? I was born in the Hawkeye State and lived in California for years. But we might turn out the lights and try studying some lessons together.”
“Wonderful idea, professor. Maybe there’d be time for another one before we leave in the morning.”
And there was. The complete privacy they had in this distant setting seemed to enhance what they shared.
After breakfast, Cam asked, “Ready to do The Village again?”
“I’m ready for whatever involves you, my love. But, yes, you know I am. We promised that to each other six months ago.”
They parked in the lot at Old Sturbridge Village, bought their tickets, and spent hours wandering the two hundred or so acres that took them back in time to the early 1800s. When their breakfast wore off, they ate at the tavern on the Village grounds. An enjoyable outing, but Cam could see that they’d get back to Sudbury later than planned. “So what,” he thought.
After they’d worn themselves out walking what seemed to be miles, they drove to the lots that Cam showed Vicki last fall. At the big granite outcrop they’d climbed over the last time, the laurel was in bloom. Vicki remembered it, and said, “The waxy leaves and the white and pink flowers are just beautiful. I’d love to somehow take one of the little plants back with me.”
“Not sure it’s true, but somebody once told me they’re protected and you can’t disturb them. I said in November that they’d be in bloom-just for you. But, if you want to see them again, you’ll have to come back. They bloom every spring. ”
“Will we be then what we are today?”
“Let it go, Vicki. We’re here to enjoy the day, not predict the future.”

After they’d walked the lots again, they went down to the cottage where they’d parked. It was just beginning to sprinkle, so it was time to get inside. To his surprise, there was a single bed of sorts in the living room. Cam assumed that the previous owner had left it behind. Vicki saw it and said, “Make love to me here. I want it to be among my memories of your place in the woods.”
And they did. Then it wasn’t but minutes after they were dressed that there was a knock at the door. They glanced at each other. Neither of them had the faintest idea who it could be. Cam looked out and saw that it was his broker, Owen Thorpe.
“Hi, Cam. Didn’t recognize the new car, but I remembered your vanity plate and thought I’d say hello.”
“Hello, Owen. It’s been a while. Just checking the place over to see if there’s anything I left behind. I was about to come over to your office to give you some money and sign the contract on the lots.” Cam didn’t especially want him to see what had been going on. The little bed was a mess, and he might assume that it was their doing.
Then it started to rain. “Could I come in?” Thorpe asked. “I’m getting wet.”
“Sure. It’s drier in here.”
Owen saw Vicki and said hello. It was obvious to him that since Natalie was gone from the scene Cam had wasted no time finding a romantic interest. It was easy to see that Owen was taken with her. Few if any young women in the area matched her beauty, and Owen’s lust was on display. Cam finally introduced them.
“I won’t keep you,” Owen said. “I’m on my way back to the office, and I’ll get your file out so we can finish up our business. See you in, what, about half an hour?”
“Less than that, I should think. We’ll be pretty much right behind you. I’ve gone through the place once and only found a couple of things that were mine. Just give us a few minutes.”
After Owen was gone, Vicki said, “Did you see how he looked at me? He practically undressed me on the spot. The guy’s a lecher.”
“Not to worry, love. I’ll be that knight in shining armor you’ve referred to in the past.”
Before they left, Cam made one more pass around both levels to make doubly sure that he’d gotten everything. When he came back to the upper floor, he couldn’t find Vicki. The rain had stopped, so he assumed she’d gone outside. He found her on a landing about halfway down the long set of steps that led to the pond below. She was staring intently at the stream that was cascading downward alongside the stairway. But there was more to it than that.
“Vicki? What are you doing?”
She didn’t answer. When he went down to see if she was OK, he found that she wasn’t. Tears were streaming down her face.
“Talk to me, Vicki.”
“This is so beautiful, so serene. I just love it here. But I’ll never be a part of it, never share your retreat on that snowy night that I’ve always dreamed about. I’m certain of it.”
“What you’re saying is you’ve decided that in time you’ll cut me, and this, out of your life. That means you’re choosing the path we’ll follow. I’m not ready to give up on us. If you have, then you should be honest with me, and yourself, and tell me if I’m right.”
“No. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure this is the last time I’ll be here. The thought of that makes me sad, so terribly sad.”
“Didn’t we deal with this same premonition last fall? I thought we decided then that we couldn’t predict the future. If you want answers now to questions about our tomorrows, I don’t have them.”
“Oh, Cam. Just hold me.” He did, and Vicki sobbed. There were no words. Vicki couldn’t talk, and Cam had none. He didn’t quite know what to make of what was happening. But his instincts led him to suppose that Vicki was posturing herself to look elsewhere for a husband. Cam let her anguish run its course. Later, when she’d gotten herself under control, and her eyes were about back to normal, they left to keep their date at Thorpe Realty.
At the beautiful 1800s colonial house that served as his real estate office, Thorpe greeted Cam and Vicki at the door and then asked them to join him at a conference table. Vicki sat quietly while Owen and Cam made the contractual exchange of the cottage for lots 146 and 147 on Hemlock Drive. Cam wrote out a check and signed the land contract that bound him to the buy. After Owen was finished staring at Vicki, he asked Cam if he’d consider coming to work for him. “You’re the kind of man I need to run my companies out here at the lake. Not many capable people around town. Oh, sure, there are lots of plumbers, electricians, carpenters, and the like, but very few men, or women, with a good business head. You’d need a broker’s license. Wouldn’t be a problem. I could help you get it. Think it over.”
“I’m pretty well set down on New York Plaza, so I can’t see much reason to uproot and make the change. If things go to hell, and that’s always possible, I might just come back and talk with you further about what it is you have in mind. I like it up here. But more about that some other day. We’re out of time and have to be on our way back to Sudbury. The boys will be home before long, and there’s no one there to look after them. I try to avoid letting that happen. Thanks for the offer. It’s good to know that you feel I might be able to fit into your operations here.”
“Keep me in mind. We’d work together well. And let me know when you want to put up a building over on your lots.”
“I’ll be in touch when the time comes.”
Ready to start back, Cam asked Vicki if she’d like to drive. “No, you’ve worn me out, or I wore myself out over on the stairs. Maybe it’s today’s excitement or that my cycle has done me in. All related, I suppose. No, it’s your ‘horse’, and I’m very happy sitting in the right seat. If I get drowsy, I’d rather that you have the reins.”
Things change, and Cam reflected on how different this drive home was from the last trip they’d made into Massachusetts. There was small talk then, but this time Vicki was mostly quiet on the way back.
When they weren’t far from Sudbury, Cam finally said, “Penny for your thoughts.”
“Just thinking about yesterday’s meetings, the beauty of last night, and again this morning, and the abysmal frame of mind I let myself fall into at midafternoon.”
“You’re tired, and Monday is on your mind again. It’s a mirror image of the last time you were here. Maybe a recuperative hug will help you mend. I’ll see that you get a couple once we’re home. And let’s plan on eating out. It’s too late to start dinner.”
“That suits my mood. Be good to sit with the boys and open up with them about what we did. And you’re right about Monday. These trips I make are hard on both of us. The arrival is wonderful. The departure isn’t. But I like the idea of a hug. That also suits my mood. And I’ve discovered something. I’m generally ‘down’ after my fertile window closes. As I look back, there is a pattern. Usually I’m too busy to think about it, but when the pressure is off I have time to recognize that I am a bit depressed. Sorry to be gloomy. When I get home, I’ll be angry about having been a killjoy when we have only a few days together.”
“Don’t worry about it. A hug with healing powers will help, and you’ll be back to normal tonight.”
Vicki finally smiled and then squeezed Cam’s hand to show him that she was on the mend. “There you go again. Dr. Gordon’s special medication for an ailing Vicki. I feel better already.”
“Good. Now that we’re home, take that great smile up to number 710 and wow the boys.”
“I’ll show them nothing less than radiant sunshine.” And that’s exactly what they saw.
Afterwards, Cam delivered on his promise to give Vicki his special version of a recovery hug. She trembled slightly, held on, and felt much better following his treatment.
Cam and Vicki each had a drink, and then got the boys organized to go out for Italian, again, at a new place in town called Puccini’s. The owners named it after the famous Italian composer. “I read that the guy in charge of the pizzas is from the old country. He makes them with thin crust and they’re very tasty. At least that’s what the food columnist wrote in the Sunday paper. Want to give it a try?”
“Affirmative responses times three made it a unanimous vote.
After they’d been seated, each of them had a drink and at the same time ordered something other than pizza. Later, when they’d finished, everyone said their meals were good. Just as important, they all had a good time. The dour mood of late afternoon was greatly improved.
After the lights were out, Vicki thanked Cam for helping her overcome a bad case of the blues and followed it with a loving at its affectionate best. The two weary lovers then kissed softly and slept like embracing logs.

Sunday, Vicki’s last full day in the East, dawned bright and cheerful. Her frame of mind was back on track and equally sunny. She apologized again for having been morose before they started home yesterday. “My trip is so short. Every hour should’ve been filled with happiness. I let you down.”
“Forget it. We’re fine now. Let’s enjoy the time we have left.”
They relaxed and achieved their objective. It was a good feeling. Late in the afternoon, Cam and Vicki took drinks to the terrace and watched the sailboats out on Long Island Sound. No discussion about where their lives were going, or world affairs, or any other matter of substance. It was a time to unwind and just be themselves. It worked. It could be Vicki had concluded that this would be her last trip, that her plans for a life with Cam Gordon were destined to fail, and that she might as well enjoy these last moments with this man she cared about so much. It might be interpreted as a sense of relief that the future was now clear to her. If so, she was still well ahead of Cam and what direction he would allow his personal life to take. But there, too, his cautious approach to relationships was defining the path that would be his into the foreseeable future. He enjoyed the company of different women at different times, and until he was as certain as humanly possible about th
e next Mrs. Gordon, he would let the future unfold by itself. There would be no plan, no goal, and no target date. Cam had just turned thirty-nine, was in good health, virile, and in no rush to remarry. His sons, at least Jon, looked at the future rather differently.
As afternoon faded into twilight, Cam and Vicki put dinner together and then had a family meal on the terrace. The weather was exceptionally warm for late May, so it was a pleasant evening they shared, Vicki’s last in New England. The boys enjoyed it, but they were also looking forward to seeing Cris tomorrow afternoon.
That night, and early the next morning, Cam and Vicki said their goodbyes with the same fervor that had always been there. Later, they all had breakfast together and not long afterwards the two of them left for Kennedy. Vicki hugged the boys, told Jon she was proud of him, and then she and their dad were gone.
As with Veteran’s Day last November, Memorial Day traffic was lighter than on a regular weekday. Even so, it was busy because it was perfect beach weather. They arrived at JFK in plenty of time for Vicki’s flight at noon. After she’d checked in, they went for coffee.

Read more about A SEASON OF TRANSITIONS and R. M. Gibson HERE.

Copyright 2010 R. M. Gibson. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.