Paradox Lake Read online

  “No worries,” he says.

  He opens the screen door, steps out onto the porch. I follow. The yellow porch light gives off a wonderful glow. It also doesn’t attract insects the way a bright white light would. For the first time that night, I notice that the temperature is indeed beginning to drop now that fall is around the corner. Great sleeping weather is upon us.

  Tim turns to me once more. We lock eyes and before I know it, we’re wrapped in one another’s arms. Our mouths connect, and we kiss for what seems like hours. When we come up for air, we’re both smiling like happy teenagers.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow, Rose,” he says, “unless I see you at the store.”

  “I might come in for coffee before work,” I say.

  “That would be nice,” he says. “See you then, maybe.”

  I watch him cross over the lawn to the driveway. He gets in his truck, fires it up, and backs out. Before he takes off along the country road, he hits the horn. I offer him a wave.

  “Oh crap,” I whisper as he disappears into the night, “I think I’ve gone and fallen in love.”

  CHAPTER 18

  ENTERING BACK INTO the house, I close the big wood door behind me and lock it.

  “Anna,” I yell up the stairs, “you still up?”

  “Yup. You coming up soon, Rosie?”

  “In a minute, hon. Just locking up.”

  Entering into the brightly lit kitchen, I once more find myself attracted to the crucifix that hangs on the wall over the stove. I’m not the religious type, but I find myself doing something that is so not like me. I make the sign of the cross.

  “God bless you and keep you, Sarah,” I whisper.

  A cool wind blows in through the open back door then. The lonely loon cries, Saaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr. Goose bumps rise up on my skin. The sad noise gives me pause. It also makes me want to indulge in one more small drink of wine. Looking around for my wine mug, I realize I once again left it outside.

  Heading back out through the rear screen door, I skip on down to the firepit. Out on the water, I see a pleasure boat making its way across the lake in the night, its green and red running board lights lit up against the dark of night. Makes me want to invest in a boat. Maybe a second- or thirdhand outboard that Anna can manage on her own if she so chooses. Something to look into tomorrow.

  The fire is dying out, which is a good thing. Locating my mug on the Adirondack chair armrest, I grab hold of it, and turn back for the house. My eyes are drawn to the Paradox Lake trailhead. The shadow appears. My blood runs cold, pulse skyrockets. It’s the shadow of a man. Or is it? It appears to be poised on four legs, like a deer or maybe a bear. Whatever it is, it shoots and scoots from behind the woodpile to the trailhead and then disappears inside the woods.

  Heart be fucking still …

  I keep telling myself that it’s just a deer. The deer come out at night, right? But why does the shadow seem like it could belong to a man? And what kind of man gets around on all four limbs? I’m standing stone stiff by the light of the dying fire. It’s like my feet are buried up to my shins in curing concrete. Saaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr, cries the loon. Where’s Tim when I need him? More vibration coming from the cell phone in my pocket.

  Swallowing something dry and bitter, I run for the back screen door and nearly plow through it. Slipping inside, I close the wood door and lock it. I press my back up against it, feel my heart pounding in my throat.

  “What the hell is that thing out there?” I whisper to myself.

  Inhaling and exhaling a few deep breaths, I tell myself, “It’s just a deer, Rose. Nothing more.”

  But why do I not believe that?

  Tomorrow morning, I’ll go to the Ferguson General Store and I’ll tell Tim about the shadow. That I’ve spotted it two nights in a row. Hopefully he won’t think I’m a crazy lady. Hopefully he will have a logical explanation for it, just as he did the cry of the loon. The woods … it could be I’m just not used to them.

  I set the empty mug on the counter and realize I didn’t bring the wine bottle back in with me. No way I’m going back out there now. Best to call it a night. Staring up at the crucifix, I decide to leave the light on yet again. I head upstairs, and rather than sleep in my own bed tonight, I go straight to Anna’s room.

  But before I get in bed, I brush my teeth and put on a long t-shirt. Then I get in bed beside my daughter who, naturally, is texting with someone.

  “Everything okay, Rosie?” she asks.

  In my head, I’m seeing the shadow going from behind the woodpile to the trailhead. No way I’m telling Anna about it. It will only freak her out unnecessarily since the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced it’s got to be a deer—or a black bear or a wolf. Yikes!

  “Of course, kiddo,” I say. “Why would anything be wrong?”

  “Because you don’t usually volunteer to have a sleepover with me unless you’ve had a fight with Tony.”

  “Oh crap,” I say, “I almost forgot. Tony texted me and I haven’t answered yet.”

  My phone is set on the small table beside the bed. I take hold of it, gaze at the screen. Sure enough, he’s left me two texts.

  “Are we feeling just a little guilty, Rose?” Anna says, matter-of-factly, if not maturely, like our roles have suddenly reversed.

  I open the first text.

  Where are you?

  Typical Tony. Not, Hey, just thinking of you, or, Hope you guys are having fun. But like the worrywart he is, he needs to know where we are and what we’re doing precisely when he wants to know it.

  Next text.

  Haven’t heard from you in a while.

  Okay, shift the onus onto me. I see what he’s doing.

  “You haven’t answered my question, Rosie,” Anna presses, while typing something into her iPhone.

  In my head I see Tony seated at Lanies Bar. All his friends will be gone by now, and the bartender will be asking him about calling an Uber on his behalf, because no way is he driving tonight. Or who knows, maybe he’s safe and sound at home in his North Albany bottom-floor apartment, a stack of paperback and hard-cover books by his side.

  “Oh crap, Anna,” I say, “am I a bad person for liking Tim?”

  “What’s this?” she says. “You’re actually asking me my opinion?”

  “Sure,” I say. “I’d like to know.”

  “Well, listen, I like Tony. I really do. Deep down inside, I probably have love for him. He’s helped me out a lot. But I have to admit, Rosie, there’s something about Tim that’s very attractive. I can see why you like him.”

  I exhale while staring at Tony’s texts. Or should I say sigh? Because, as I said before, I do love Tony. But also, as Anna just said, there’s something very attractive if not alluring about Tim.

  “I do feel guilty,” I say. “But then, I do like Tim. No doubt about it.” Then, turning to her and smiling. “He invited me to an Italian restaurant this weekend in Schroon.”

  “Really,” she says. “You accepted, I hope.”

  Me, back to staring at Tony’s texts. I have to respond with something.

  All good here, I text. Then, Sweet dreams XO.

  This is the part where I feel like a total cheat and a cad. But what am I gonna do? I swear on my mom’s grave that I would never openly cheat on Tony if we were married. I would honor our commitment. But, and this is a big but, not only are we not married, but I’ve caught Albany’s favorite writer in compromising positions with some of his more adoring fans on more than one occasion—Anna has no idea about this BTW. And in each instance, he’s begged for my forgiveness and promised to be good from thereon in. I always took him back, sucker that I am. That’s not to say what’s going on with Tim is revenge. It’s not. What’s going on with him are real feelings. Feelings I haven’t experienced in a long, long time.

  Saaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr, howls the loon outside the window. Saaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr …

  “There she goes again,” I say, putting my phone back on vibrate and setting it on the
bedside table. “Did you know that when loons mate, they mate for life, Anna, and that they are always in love with their mate?”

  “Oh my God,” Anna says, her eyes wide. “That means I’d be with Jake Walls for the rest of my life.”

  I can’t help but laugh at the possibility.

  “I thought you were like in love with little Jake Walls,” I say.

  “Not that in love,” she says. “There’s a lot of guys out there.”

  I pat her thigh.

  “Now you’re cooking with Wesson, honey,” I say.

  “Wesson,” she says with a furrowed brow. “I don’t get it.”

  “Never mind.”

  Saaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr … Saaaaaarrrrrrrrrrr …

  Both of us fall asleep to the sound of a lonely loon on Paradox Lake.

  CHAPTER 19

  THE NEXT MORNING I’m up at seven, feeling a bit rusty from all that wine. But otherwise, feeling happy about my dinner date with Tim and about the work in progress going in the studio. Instead of making my coffee, I decide to head into town to grab a coffee and breakfast sandwich for me, and an apple fritter and a hot chocolate for Anna. And yes, I have every intention of seeing Tim. That is, if he’s there that early in the morning.

  As luck would have it, Tim is in the house, as they say. He’s behind the counter, checking out the early morning risers and working folk who are grabbing their coffee and daily Lotto tickets and scratch-offs. He spots me as soon as I come through the front wood and glass door. His face goes immediately into smile mode, which makes me smile. I offer a wave and then gesture towards the coffee bar with my right hand. He nods and winks while ringing someone out.

  Heading to the coffee bar, I pour a large Green Mountain Roast and add some two-percent milk to it, no sugar. Capping it off, I make a small hot chocolate for Anna. Placing both beverages in a cardboard holder, I shift on down to the donuts and the pre-made—but homemade—breakfast sandwiches that keep warm under a long heat lamp. Egg, bacon, and cheese, or egg, ham, and cheese. Decisions, decisions. I choose the ham version, then grab an apple fritter for Anna. Placing everything on the tray, I await my turn in line at the counter.

  Peering over my right shoulder, I see him sweeping the floor. Creepy Ed. He’s wearing what I now recognize as his usual uniform of overalls, work boots, and t-shirt. He looks at me with his striking blue eyes and grins. I notice something on his neck. It’s a tattoo. A black tattoo of an animal. A cat maybe, or a dog. The more I look at it, I begin to realize it’s a wolf. I never noticed it till now, but then, I guess I tried not to pay all that much attention to him.

  I try and work up a grin for him, but it’s entirely forced. Maybe Tim claims him to be entirely harmless and slow, yet there’s something about him that doesn’t sit well with me. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe he’s the sweetest man in the world, with a tattoo of a wolf on his thick neck.

  The door opens again and a cute, middle-aged, auburn-haired woman enters. Like Tim, she’s wearing the forest green Ferguson General Store pickup truck logo t-shirt.

  “Kathy,” Tim says, as I take my place at the counter. “Just in time.”

  Kathy comes around and stands beside Tim. They kind of resemble one another in that they possess the same eyes. Having rung me out, Tim hands me my change.

  “Kathy, this is my friend Rose,” he says. “She’s staying in Paradox for a few months with her daughter, working on a new art project or projects.”

  His sister. I didn’t know he had a sister.

  “Nice meeting you, Kathy,” I say, holding out my hand over the counter.

  She smiles warmly and takes my hand in hers.

  “I’m going to reveal a secret,” she says, even with her brother standing right beside her. “You’re all Tim has been talking about for the past couple of days.”

  Tim’s face turns a noticeable shade of red, even with half of it covered by a beard.

  “Thanks for that, Sis,” he says. Then, his eyes on me. “I’m taking a quick break, if you want to join me, Rose.”

  “Sure,” I say. “I’ll bring my coffee.”

  He comes around the counter and goes for the door.

  “Let’s head outside, Rose,” he says. “It’s a beautiful Adirondack morning.”

  “Absolutely, Tim,” I say. Then, eyeing Kathy, “Nice meeting you.”

  “Don’t be a stranger,” she says. “Sometimes the girls get together for happy hour on Fridays. We head over to Bunny’s Bar a few doors down and play darts and pool. We stink at pool, but it’s fun.”

  “I’d love to.”

  “It’s a date,” she says.

  I head out the door behind Tim, laughing on the inside at the notion of dating both Tim and his sister.

  I set my tray on the passenger seat of my Mini Cooper, but grab hold of my coffee and carry it to the picnic table set on the far side of the general store. Tim is already there, seated on top of the table. Surprise of surprises, he’s smoking a cigarette.

  “Didn’t take you for a smoker,” I say, as I climb up onto the table and set myself beside him.

  Uncapping the plastic coffee lid, I steal a sip. It’s hot, rich, and delicious. I can’t wait to dig into my sandwich. Everything is so homemade up here, and because of it, it tastes so much better than the everyday Dunkin’ Donuts fare I’m force-fed down in the Albany suburbs.

  “Sadly,” Tim says, exhaling a cloud of blue smoke. “But when I stopped drinking, I needed something to replace it.”

  “I used to smoke,” I say. “Gave it up on Christmas day almost fourteen years ago now. My daughter Allison had been diagnosed with leukemia and I needed something positive in my life. So I quit, cold turkey.”

  “Just like that, huh?” he says.

  “Just like that.”

  I sip more coffee.

  “The drinking,” I say. “Was it a problem? Or am I out of bounds, Tim?”

  He sets his hand on my thigh.

  “You’re not out of bounds at all,” he says. “It’s not so much that it was a problem. It’s just that I liked it too much. My personality changed when I drank. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t become mean or anything like that. I was just … I don’t know … kind of wild, I guess. So, I thought it best to give it a rest.”

  I try to picture a wild Tim Ferguson in my head, whatever that means. Maybe it means he used to have a few beers and then get up on the bar and be the life of the party. If that’s the case, I can see why he quit. Tony, on the other hand, is the type to stew the more he drinks. He starts in on his, “No one realizes what a terrific talent I am. I should be a rich writer by now. Not a struggling writer.” Maybe he should quit for a while too. Me, when I drink, I just get mellow happy.

  “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I say.

  “Anna still in bed?” he asks.

  I’m guessing the abrupt change in conversation direction is his way of saying, I actually don’t want to talk about it.

  “She’s twelve, almost thirteen,” I say. “You gotta ask?”

  He laughs. “Can you believe we were thirteen once? Now I’ll never see fifty again.”

  “I’m coming up on it faster than I’d like,” I say.

  He turns to me. “You know what, Rose?”

  “You have my attention.”

  “You are one hot close-to-fifty lady,” he says, grinning. “A real MILF.”

  We both almost fall off the table laughing. And that’s when he steals a long, loving kiss. Never mind the combination cigarette smoke and coffee breath, it’s the sweetest kiss I can remember receiving from anyone, next to that first kiss he laid on me last night.

  Speaking of last night …

  “Tim,” I say, as we come up for air and he tosses his spent cigarette to the ground, stamping it out with his boot tip. “I saw something last night, and the night before, that kind of disturbed me.”

  “Where?” he says. “When?”

  His face is now genuinely full of concern.<
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  “It happened after you left. After you left on both nights, actually. In the back, behind the log pile, I saw something scoot out from around the side of the house and then disappear into the Paradox Lake trailhead. It’s the spookiest thing in the world.”

  He ponders what I’m telling him for a long beat or two.

  “Are you thinking the something could be human?” he asks.

  “That’s just it,” I say. “Whatever it is, it moves so fast, and on all fours, it almost seems sort of … and I can’t believe I’m saying this … inhuman, you know?”

  He nods some more, pulls out a second cigarette, and lights it up.

  “That’s because it probably is inhuman.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Exhaling the initial drag of smoke, he says, “If you ask me, it’s just a deer.”

  I find myself smiling. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” I place my hand on his hard-as-rock thigh.

  “But I’ll tell you what,” he says. “Why don’t I come by after dinner tonight? We’ll make a fire and we’ll see if we can spot whatever the heck it is, together. If it’s a deer, chances are it will be there. They are creatures of habit.”

  “That would be wonderful,” I say.

  Of course, I’m not sure if I’m saying this because he’s taking charge of the situation or because I’m going to have yet another date with him tonight. Maybe a little of both.

  “One thing that worries me is that it’s another kind of animal,” he says, “like a black bear or a mountain lion or even a wolf.”

  “Jeez, a wolf, really?”

  “The climate is changing, Rose. More and more wolves are coming up from the south, seeking lower temps. They’re being spotted more and more while they make the trek to Canada and farther north.”

  “Are they really that dangerous?”

  “Let’s put it this way. If it’s okay with you, I’ll bring my pistol.”

  A shot of adrenaline injected into my bloodstream.

  “You mean like a real gun?” I question.