Chapter 1 #2
Lori looked around the cozy kitchen, at Misty sprawled on her dog bed, at the last rays of sunlight streaming through the window as she walked to the sink to rinse her dishes and pack the dishwasher.
“I think I’m good. It’s quiet here, but in a nice way. Not lonely quiet. Just peaceful.” Lori started rinsing her plates as she spoke.
“That’s what I was hoping for. For both of us.” Carrie’s voice softened. “You’ve been running on empty for too long, Lori. Let yourself rest. Paint, go for long walks with Misty, and unwind for the summer.”
“I hope you’re going to take your own advice,” Lori said. “You’re the one who needs more recuperating than I do.” She packed the dishwasher. “How’s Florida?”
“Hot. Humid. The complete opposite of Nantucket.” But there was something in Carrie’s tone, a lightness that hadn’t been there in months. “I love what you’ve done with the house, and Luna’s a sweetheart.” Another pause. “The neighbor is a bit noisy with all that construction going on.”
“Just ask Matt to keep it down at certain times of day,” Lori advised her. “He’s a decent guy when you get to know him. His grandson should be there this summer and is the same age as Maggie.”
“Yes, we’ve met Cody and his huge dog already,” Carrie told her. “Maggie and Cody hit it off instantly, which I’m very happy about, even if his grandfather is noisy.”
Lori smiled and stared out the kitchen window. “The noise fades into the distance eventually, and you hardly hear it after a while.”
“Thanks,” Carrie said with a laugh. “I’m thinking of going to Key West tomorrow to get some earplugs.”
They talked for another twenty minutes, trading details about their respective houses and making plans to check in every few days. When they hung up, full darkness had fallen outside. Lori wandered back through the cottage, turning on lamps as she went.
She ended up in the living room, drawn to the bookshelves. Carrie had mentioned that most of the books had belonged to Martha, and Lori could believe it. The collection ranged from classics to contemporary fiction, from gardening guides to local history.
She pulled out a slim volume of poetry and settled into the reading nook, tucking her legs under her. Misty followed and lay down at her feet with a contented sigh.
The words on the page blurred as Lori’s mind wandered.
Trevor would have loved this cottage. How she wished he could be here with her.
It just went to prove how fickle life was and that one really did need to grasp opportunities when you could and not put off plans, thinking tomorrow was guaranteed.
Lori closed the book and pressed it against her chest, letting the grief wash through her. Two years, and it still caught her off guard sometimes. The ache of missing him, the empty space where he used to be.
But tonight, in this cottage that still held the spirit of a woman who’d lived a full life, the grief felt gentler somehow. Not gone. Just softer around the edges.
“Come on, girl.” She stood, and Misty rose with her. “Let’s get ready for bed.”
The upstairs bathroom was small but charming, with vintage tile and a clawfoot tub. Lori took a quick shower, letting the hot water ease the tension from the long day of travel. She changed into her pajamas and brushed her teeth, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up with her.
In the bedroom, she pulled back the covers and slid between cool cotton sheets. Misty turned in a circle three times before settling on a dog bed in the corner, like she must do every night.
Lori reached for the lamp on the nightstand, then paused. Through the window, she could see stars beginning to emerge in the darkening sky. The ocean murmured its endless song.
She turned off the light and let the darkness settle around her.
Sleep came quickly, pulling her under like a gentle tide.
But sometime in the deep hours of night, something woke her.
Lori lay still, her heart suddenly racing. She listened, trying to identify what had disturbed her sleep. Misty still breathed evenly from her bed. The ocean continued its rhythm. Nothing seemed wrong.
Then she heard it.
Footsteps.
The distinct sound of the floorboards creaking in the hallway just outside her bedroom door. Not random settling of an old house. A pattern. Back and forth, like someone pacing.
Lori’s breath caught. She strained to see in the darkness, but her eyes hadn’t adjusted yet. The footsteps continued. Three steps one way. A pause. Three steps back.
Her fingers found her phone on the nightstand.
She turned on its flashlight, the sudden beam cutting through the darkness as she quietly got out of bed and padded to the bedroom door.
Her heartbeat increased a little more as her hand grabbed the doorknob, and then she yanked it open, shining the light down the hallway. It was empty.
Something soft touched her leg, and she yelped, jumping away from it only to find it was Misty. She was standing beside Lori with her ears forward, staring down the hallway. Not growling. Just watching, her tail giving a single slow wag.
The footsteps had stopped.
Lori held the light steady, her pulse hammering in her ears. Nothing moved. No sound came from the hallway or the stairs.
Then, so faint she almost missed it, she caught the scent of lavender.
Just a whisper of it, there for the briefest of moments and then gone.
Misty, bored and satisfied nothing was wrong, walked back to her bed and lay back down with a soft sigh, resting her head on her paws.
After a moment, her eyes drifted closed.
That gave Lori some comfort, and she breathed through the tiny waves of shock pulsing through her nervous system.
She pulled the bedroom door closed and turned the key before padding back to bed.
Lori lowered the phone, her hand trembling slightly. As she slid back into bed, she lay and listened for another five minutes, but the cottage remained silent. Just old wood settling. Just her imagination playing tricks after a long day.
That’s all it was. She was in a strange old house that would take a bit of time to get used to all the noises as it settled for the night.
She turned off the flashlight and pulled the covers up to her chin. It took a long time for her heartbeat to slow, even longer for sleep to find her again.
But eventually, exhaustion won, and she drifted off to the sound of the ocean and the soft breathing of a dog who seemed perfectly content in a cottage that might not be quite as empty as it appeared.