Chapter 10 Astrid
ASTRID
The indoor swimming pool is on the other side of town, so after leaving Cake and Coffee and collecting the girls from the ballet studio, we split up to drive separately to our sisters’ next lesson.
I arrive first, with Callan sliding into the space beside my car in the parking lot at the back of the building.
After we’ve deposited the girls, we take seats in the observation area.
Several of the moms openly stare at Callan while others are whispering and pointing at him, and it’s rude as fuck.
I want to storm over and remind them they are married women with young, impressionable daughters, who look to them as role models, and far too old to be leering at a high school senior the way they are, but making a scene would only embarrass Callan.
I don’t know if he has noticed, but it’s disgusting, and it’s creeping me out.
“Want to get out of here?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Desperately.”
“Come on.” Grabbing his arm, I all but drag him out through the front door.
“Fan i helvete,” I hiss, incensed on Callan’s behalf.
“Tell me that means what I think it means.”
“Which is?” I ask, grappling with my irrational anger.
“Fucking whores.”
I almost choke on my tongue before I burst out laughing. Callan joins in, and we receive some strange stares from a few latecomers who are hustling kids into the building.
“No, that would be j?vla horor.”
He repeats it a few times, and it’s funny as fuck hearing him say it in his Irish accent. “I think I like fucking whores better,” he admits after a few attempts. “It sounds nastier, which fits the occasion.”
“Either works.”
“What does what you said mean?” he asks, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Fan i helvete means fucking hell.”
“I need to start writing these down.” Removing his phone from his back pocket, he slides his finger across the screen.
I focus on calming down while he types in some notes.
“What now?” he asks when he’s finished.
“Have you been to the Whispering Lake yet?”
He shakes his head. “Haven’t heard of it.”
“You need to see it.” I lift one shoulder and turn my head toward the large, wooded area in the distance.
“It’s not popular because it’s smaller and on this side of town, which is mostly nonresidential, but I like to walk around there when I need to clear my head.
It’s through those woods. The Whispering Woods. ”
His brows tip up. “Whispering Lake and Whispering Woods?”
A giggle bursts from my lips. “I know. It sounds like fantasy land, but there is a story behind it.”
“I’m intrigued, and I definitely need to see it.”
“Okay, we’d best hurry if we want to be back in time for the girls.”
We take off walking at a fast pace, and I start explaining. “So, I don’t know if this is actually true or just town gossip or an urban legend, but the story goes that a reclusive Scottish inventor bought the land in the late eighteen hundreds and built a house for his native Vermonter bride.”
“What did he invent?” Callan asks as we cross over the road, heading toward the entrance to the forest.
“Lots of things, but it was his tire invention that put him on the map and generated the kind of wealth that enabled him to buy the property for his beautiful new wife.”
“How romantic,” he deadpans.
“I know you’re teasing, but I truly think it was an incredibly romantic gesture.”
“Now all the romance books I spotted on your shelves make sense.”
“A word of warning, Callan,” I say, as we step over the turnstile. “Do not joke about romance books.” I stab him with a sharp look. “There are many things I can excuse, but mocking romance in any form is not one of them.”
His grin is so wide it threatens to split his face in two. “Don’t knock romance. Got it.” He taps his temple, and I barely resist an eye roll.
“Remind me to tell you my parents’ story after I finish telling you this,” I say, leading him into the forest. Slivers of golden sunshine sneak through the branches and gaps between the trees, providing enough light to guide our path.
Not that I need it. I could find my way through this forest blindfolded.
Our feet crunch on debris as we tread deeper into the woods, and I open my lungs, inviting the pine freshness in the air to fill me up.
“What happened to the inventor and his wife?” Callan inquires.
“They lived happily here for many years until they tried to have a family. They really wanted to have children, but his wife couldn’t get pregnant.”
Callan darts forward suddenly, holding some low-hanging branches back for me to walk through.
He mocks romance, yet his gentlemanly actions speak volumes.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
A spark ignites the space between us, like always, but I ignore it, forging on and continuing with the story. “His wife became depressed, and he tried everything to cheer her up. Then, finally, she got pregnant, and they were filled with joy. Until the baby was stillborn.”
“Fuck. Something tells me this romance does not have a happy ending.”
“Unfortunately not, which, technically, in book terms, would mean it’s not a romance, but anyway…
” I cut my babbling off before I give him a rundown of the difference between a romance and a love story.
Something I’m sure would confirm my geek status.
“His wife was inconsolable, and the story says she, quote”—I make little quote marks with my fingers—“fell into madness. She was often found wandering the woods, whispering her dead child’s name and calling out for him.
One morning, she was found face down in the lake, and it destroyed her husband.
He then fell into madness and was often found wandering the woods whispering her name. ”
“Let me guess, another morning, he was found face down in the lake too?”
“Yep,” I say, taking a sharp left and heading in the direction of said lake, which is barely visible through the blanket of trees.
“Well, that sure as shit is not a romance.”
“It’s a tragedy of Shakespearean magnitude.”
“So, what happened to the property and the house then?”
“It ended up under government control, not sure how or why, but currently, it’s under the control of the Agency of Natural Resources, which is how it’s open to the public.
” Pushing through a curtain of trees, I emerge on the eastern side of the lake.
“This is it.” I glance over my shoulder as Callan follows me out of the forest onto the small, cobbled beach surrounding the lake.
The water is placid today, glistening a vibrant blue under the cloudless sky, dappling gently in the late summer breeze.
I point across the lake. “That’s the official trail over there if you want to walk or run.
I brought us to this side because we don’t have much time, and it was quicker, but if you want to come back, you just turn left at the entrance where we turned right and follow the signs. ”
“This is breathtaking.”
“I’ve always thought so.” Mountains rise majestically behind the elevated woodland, cocooning the forest and lake below. Rays of magnificent sunshine cast glittering shadows across the water, mirroring a rainbow dancing across the lake. “Imagine owning all this.”
“Imagine growing up here.”
“It would be like stepping into Narnia. I’ve always felt a special draw to this place, and I don’t understand why more people don’t come here, but I’m selfishly glad residents and tourists prefer the larger lakes and woodlands with water activities, outdoor grills, and picnic spaces.
” Sitting on a fallen log, I squint under the glare of the sun, wishing I’d thought to grab my sunglasses from the car before we left.
Callan sits beside me, his thigh brushing against mine in the process.
My tongue darts out, wetting my suddenly dry lips.
I purposely don’t look at him, staring out at the water.
“If I need to think, I come here, and it always helps to settle my mind.” I glance at him briefly, catching him staring at me.
“It could be that for you, too, at times when you might need it.”
He nods slowly before clearing his throat. “Thanks for sharing it with me.”
“Anytime.”
Our eyes connect as the invisible thread between us pulls tight, vibrating in the small gap between our bodies. As if he’s been zapped by lightning, Callan whips his head around, staring across the lake as he scoots down a bit, creating space between us. I try not to take it personally.
“Is that the house?” he asks a few beats later, pointing at the fenced-off section on the opposite side of the lake.
“Yeah, that’s it. I’m not sure why it’s cordoned off and not open to the public. I would give anything to get inside that house.”
“Perhaps it’s unsafe.”
“Yeah, maybe. Shame they don’t invest in fixing it up.” I glance at my watch and jump up. “Fan! We need to leave now, or we won’t be back in time.”
Callan follows me as I race back the way we came, ducking under the trees to reenter the forest.
“Tell me about your parents,” he says, coming up alongside me as I push my limbs hard, stalking through the woods with purpose.
“So, my mom isn’t my dad’s first wife,” I begin explaining, glancing briefly at him. “He was married before. To Nora, his childhood sweetheart. They both grew up here in Ryemont, knew one another since kindergarten.”
“Does she still live in town?” Callan reaches out to grab my elbow when I almost trip over a fallen branch on the path.
“Thanks, and no.”
His arm lowers back to his side.
“She died when she was thirty.”
“That’s rough.”
I nod. “Yeah, Dad told me he was heartbroken when it happened. They’d been together from the time they were fourteen, got married at twenty-five, tried for kids only to be told they couldn’t have them, and then, two years later, they discovered she had leukemia.
Dad nursed her through it, but she was gone less than a year after the diagnosis. ”
“That’s awful.”
“It must have been hell. Dad said he went through a dark period where he’d given up hope, and he didn’t even consider finding anyone else.
He thought Nora was the love of his life, and that was it for him.
He was alone for five years before he met Mom.
She was twenty, and she’d only moved to the US eighteen months previously from Ystad.
She was in Ryemont for a modeling gig and had to go to the dentist when she felt severe pain in her mouth.
Turns out it was an ulcer, and my dad rode to the rescue. ”
I’m smiling as I relay their story. “He said it was love at first sight, but he fought it at the start because it confused him as much as it gave him hope. He let her leave town without saying anything. Two weeks later, he looked up her number to call her because he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
Before he had the chance, she showed up at his dental practice to tell him she couldn’t stop thinking about him, and they were basically together from that point on.
And like I said before, within six months, they were married and expecting me. ”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” We emerge from the cover of trees, and I blink until my vision adjusts to the brightness. “Dad thought life as he knew it was over. That everything he’d hoped and dreamed for his future was buried with his first love. But fate intervened and, in the end, he got everything he ever wanted.”
My parents’ story is so romantic and inspiring.
It’s what I want for myself, but I hope no one dies for me to get my fairytale.
“It sucks that Nora had to die for it to happen, but Dad believes everything happens for a reason. That what he went through was a lesson in patience and resilience. He told me to never stop hoping and believing because life has a funny way of delivering on dreams even when you least expect it.”