Epilogue

 

Lucinda drove up to DC more nervous than she could ever remember. Jake reminded her repeatedly about their October excursion down the Skyline Drive to the Blue Ridge Parkway and into the Great Smoky Mountains. She tried to wiggle out of it but she didn’t object too strenuously – she really did want to see him.

He promised separate rooms on their overnight stays and swore he’d do nothing forward without a direct invitation. The clincher for Lucinda came when he said, “I’m not always sure what you think about me, but I know you love my car. You can’t pass up a ride through mountains in her, can you?”

But what would he think of her now? Everyone seemed pleased with the results of the last surgery. Dr. Rambo Burns even said her lips were the most kissable he’d ever seen. Yeah, right, he’s just pleased with his own handiwork. That’s all I am to him, a pair of lips. Before that, I was just an eye socket and if I continue with his plan, I’ll just be a reconstructed nose. Do all surgeons think it is always all about them?

Still, although she knew Charley was biased, she was fairly credible. The young girl literally swore on a Bible that Lucinda’s mouth was absolutely gorgeous. Lucinda laughed at the memory of her little hand on the black leather and the solemn look on her face. The clutch of anxiety in her core eased its grip a little.

She had thought her lips looked pretty good, too – almost like the originals – and, at times, she even thought they looked better than they did before the shotgun shredded half of her face. But now, she was no longer certain. What if I’m fooling myself? What if Jake looks at my face and says, “Never mind.”

When she pulled up to Jake’s office building, she waited in the car for a good ten minutes, trying to calm her nerves. She gave up and went inside. Jake took away all doubts the moment she walked inside. He smiled when he saw her, put one hand on either side of her face and gave her a big kiss.

Lucinda felt faint. She was shocked at how good it felt to have his lips pressed into hers. Nonetheless, when he released her she said, “Jake, really!”

Behind Jake, the receptionist tittered into the hand she held over her mouth.

Jake turned and gave her a wink. He faced Lucinda and hung his head. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Those new luscious lips drove me out of my mind.”

Lucinda grinned, shook her head and said, “Are you ready to hit the road?”

“Yeah, we ought to get going if we want to hike a trail before sundown. I’ve weaseled our way into a group tour at Swannanoa Mansion at nine tomorrow morning.”

Following Route 66, they traveled from DC to Front Royal and entered the Skyline Drive. En route, they stopped at every overlook to take in the views and snap photos of the vistas and each other. They made a longer stop a little past mile marker 40 and hiked the circuitous 1.6-mile Stony Man Trail that led to an awesome view of the valley below. Excited by that sight, they set off on Little Stony Man, a shorter round trail with steeper sections but several incredible overlooks.

They ended their day about halfway down the 105-mile drive, at Big Meadows Lodge, situated in an unusual high-altitude meadow where early settlers once grazed cattle. They spent the night in separate rooms, just as Jake had promised.

Sleep did not come easily for Lucinda, though. She’d had a glorious day, filled with exercise and empty of stress. It should have meant she’d drift off easily and soundly, but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was a vast wall of concrete blocks encircling her, threatening disaster if she broke through them and opened herself to those outside of her self-imposed prison.

Lucinda didn’t understand herself – she yearned for connection and yet she did all she could to keep everyone at a distance. Not everyone. Not Charley. If I could break through to reach out to her, why can’t I dismantle another hunk of the wall? Why can’t I let go of my fear?

She fell asleep at long last but awoke with a start several times that night. In the morning, she felt a bit ragged. Can it possibly be worth it to rush out of here so early to get to the Swanee River or whatever he called that place?

Jake’s night hadn’t been much better than Lucinda’s. He couldn’t get to sleep because he couldn’t get Lucinda out of his mind. So close, yet so far away. He wondered if he needed to break his promise and make the first move but decided against it. Instinctively, he knew that though it might work with some women, it was the sure path to disaster with Lucinda.

The first few miles that morning passed in silence. Between the fresh mountain air and the incredible golds, reds and yellows in the trees, they both dropped their funk at the first overlook. By the time they reach Swannanoa, both were exhilarated once again.

Lucinda gasped when they pulled up to the enormous mansion built of Georgian marble. With its square towers shooting above the roofline, it looked more like a palace than an American home. She was even more impressed inside when she stood at the foot of the sweeping marble staircase. She was horrified to learn that the steps were once painted dark brown when it was used as a country club right after the great Depression.

Broader than four men laid end to end at its base, the elegant stairs tapered up to a landing where a beautiful and incredibly large Tiffany stained-glass window depicting a woman in a garden filled the wall. The tour guide said the face in the glass was that of Sally May Dooley, the wife of the man who, over eight years, paid more than three hundred artisans to construct the home. The stairway branched in two as it curved upward to the bedrooms on the second floor.

As the commentary shifted from the older history of the mansion to details of the post-Second World War occupation by Walter Russell and his University of Science and Philosophy, Lucinda stopped paying attention to the guide’s words. Just another Virginia crackpot, she thought, and focused on the beauty of the historical home.

After the tour, they left the Skyline Drive at Rockfish Gap and continued south on the Blue Ridge Parkway. They had buckwheat cakes for lunch at a restaurant cabin along the way and paused at most of the forty-eight overlooks they encountered on the drive to milepost 86 and the Peaks of Otter Lodge. Jake pulled into the parking area and continued across the lot to the far side, stopping in front of a bar locked into a post that blocked the entrance to a narrow dirt lane.

“This place is special,” Jake said. “I wish I could take you down there. I don’t know if it has a real name or not but we called it Dexter’s Descent – after the guy a few years ahead of me at school who discovered it.

“During my college years, I had an older friend named Van who drove a ’67 Morgan. If we ducked down in the seats, his car could slip under the bar and we could drive this road all the way down the mountain. It’s a little treacherous in spots but the views are unbelievable. The first time I went down it, I thought I died and went to heaven.

“As we approached a small rise, a wonderful, sweet smell tickled my nose. When we crested it and came down the other side, a vast valley opened at our feet, filled with apple trees all in bloom for as far as we could see. The scent in the air was powerful and overwhelming. We stopped the car and turned off the engine and listened to the buzzing symphony of a billion bees. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.”

Jake turned to Lucinda and gazed at her face with longing in his eyes. “More than anything, I’d like to find a low-slung car and drive it back here in the spring with you by my side. I want to share that with you. It was one of the most intense moments of my life.”

Lucinda put her hand on his cheek and pulled him towards her. After a long kiss, they embraced each other until their arms grew weary. Smiling, they dropped their arms and walked, hand-in-hand, into the lodge to check in. That night, they both shared the same room. Neither one of them got much sleep even though they barely rose from bed in time to make last call for breakfast the next morning.

 

 

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