CHAPTER 2

“Is Kyle going to meet you up there?”

“Oh goodness, no.” I was quick with my sharp reply. I desperately wanted to move with my life after five years as a widow and thought I’d give the dating pool a chance. That is when I stumbled on Kyle. That was a mistake. We had met while hiking in the Shenandoah. He had attempted to cross a stream and slipped on a mossy boulder. I was hiking alone and not too far behind Kyle on the trail and had seen the complete debacle of his attempt to cross a stream. I tried to contain my laughter while his tall, lean body hopped from one rock to another and slipped on another mossy boulder. I traversed my way across the stream and gave him my hand while he gained his footing. He almost pulled me into the cool water with him. We finished the hike together, and he asked me out to dinner as a “thank you” for pulling him out of the stream. We had gone on a few dates over the past few months, but I realized he was not what I was looking for in a partner. He had been hiking that once and refused to go any time I had asked him to join me on an adventure. I wanted someone that would take a risk to explore something new, and he wasn’t up for that excitement. The man was boring.

Kyle preferred to sit at home and surf the web or glued to the television. I tried hanging out with him and read while he sat in front of his computer, hardly paying any attention to me. Occasionally, he would ask me what I knew about Colonial Williamsburg or Blackbeard the Pirate. I couldn’t offer much information other than I had visited a couple of the museums in Williamsburg when Hannah was young but hadn’t been back in years. I offered to take a visit with him down there, if he was interested. He never took me up on the offer, and to be honest, I had lost any bit of interest in him. He was an odd cookie.

After losing Todd, I had realized that life is too short to sit still. I needed to get out there and experience all that life could offer. I surfed the web when I needed to do research for the book I was writing, but I did not want to spend all my time in front of a computer screen. Even though I could take my work anywhere I needed to go, I preferred to keep my home base near Hannah, and explore all that history-rich Virginia offered. My recent historical fiction series was based on the life of George Washington. His childhood home, Ferry Farm, near Fredericksburg, was just up the road from my house. During the winter, when the trees lost many of their leaves, I could see the house sitting above the Rappahannock River. George inherited the 600-acre Ferry Farm after his father died. It was small and simple, the opposite of his sister’s house, Kenmore Plantation across the river.

Later in his life, when Washington would visit Fredericksburg, he would visit The Kenmore Plantation. I went on a tour there to see how George’s sister lived. Her home was the height of opulence during Colonial America. Fielding and Betty Washington Lewis, George’s brother-in-law and sister, built it in 1770 and possessed 1200 acres. As I looked at the development of Fredericksburg today, filled with homes and buildings from the eighteenth century to modern day, it didn’t seem possible for there to be that much open land. The idea that I lived surrounded by history, only fueled my imagination.

“I would rather not date someone who wouldn't know an adventure if it crawled up his ass and bit him.”

“Oh, come on, Mom. Are you trying to tell me that there is nothing redeemable about the guy?”

“I made a list.”

“Of course, you did,” Hannah said as she rolled her eyes. I admit, I liked to write lists, especially when making decisions. “Let's hear what you have on your list.” Her phone jostled as she plopped back on her bed.

I held up fingers in front of the screen on the phone, numbering my list of reasons that Kyle was not the guy for me. “He does not like to visit unknown places. Sure, he went on a hike once. One of his golf buddies suggested they go hiking one weekend. He went to test it out so he wouldn't look like a newbie when they went with the guys.” There was something always off about him. I just couldn’t figure out his angle. “He fell in the stream and refuses to go again. In fact, he complains that there were too many bugs trying to kill him.”

“Doesn't like to hike and is afraid of bugs. Got it. It's not like you go hiking every weekend, and you don't have a bug collection. You don't like bugs, don't forget. You scream if you see a spider.”

“I used the hike as an example,” I said. “He doesn't like to try new things. He only did it to save face, and I can't say he was very successful.” I rolled my eyes as I looked back at the circumstances of our meeting. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. I was ridiculous to agree to go out with the guy. I had not been having much luck in the dating scene, and I suppose, I thought he might have differed from the rest. He didn’t. “You might be correct about me and bugs. How is he supposed to protect me from the scary bugs if he is more afraid of them than I am?” I shuddered to think about an insect touching me. I am not sure where I got my fear, but I was afraid they would somehow crawl under my skin. It was a silly fear, but one that I couldn’t shake.

“The way you would scream throughout the house for dad when you saw a spider. He would come running to save you. You know you are one of the independent and bravest people I know. However, when it comes to spiders, you are such a wimp.” Her laugh radiated through the room. I peeked at my phone to see her smile. Her blue eyes lit up at my short-coming.

My whole body shivered. I needed to change the subject away from the spiders that now haunted my thoughts. I held up another finger. “Second, he asked too many questions about your dad. I wasn’t sure if he was a conspiracy theorist or a stalker.” I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans from the bottom drawer of my dresser, held them in front of me, inspecting them, and laid them on the bed. They were my favorite pairs of jeans, broken in and comfortable. Those jeans hugged my curves in all the right places and did not make me feel like an overstuffed sausage, like my slightly too small clothes normally did. I was a healthy size twelve, give or take ten pounds.

“We were having drinks and watching a movie at his house. He kept asking me about your dad. What he did for work. What projects he was working on. If I knew who he was meeting with before they killed him. It was so strange, and it just didn’t feel right.” I stopped and twisted my ring around my finger. “Why would I want to continue reliving that day? With a man that wasn’t your father nor my therapist? Then he kept asking about Williamsburg and if I had ever been there; it was all so strange.” What number of reasons to not date Kyle was that? Two? Three? That had to covered twelve different reasons why the guy made me feel uncomfortable. I stood up and propped the phone on the dresser. I needed to pace.

I held up another finger. “Third, when I wouldn’t discuss your dad, he tried to kiss me and couldn't seem to take no for an answer. I did not want to let him, but he forced one on me. To be quite honest with you, there were no sparks. Nothing. It was like kissing a soulless drone. The dense rock head was inappropriately forceful.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” Hannah let out a snorted laugh. “In fact, I would like for you to never mention kissing anyone ever again.”

“It isn’t funny,” I pouted, my arms across my chest. “I didn’t know how to get myself out of that situation.” I didn’t want to add that his tongue darted in my mouth like he was a snake. It was gross, messy, uninvited, and I didn't want to do it again with anyone. The thought of Kyle made me want to consider celibacy. It seemed like a safer route.

“You sound like a child throwing a tantrum over a kiss.” Hannah said as she laughed at me again.

“I sound like someone that was assaulted with a kiss.” I plopped down on my bed. “Is it too much to ask for someone that will make me melt when we kiss? Maybe I just compare every other man to your father, and none come close to him.” I spun my wedding ring around my finger. “What time is it?” My phone laid on the dresser and I didn’t own a clock. “Oh! My boots!”

I jumped up and rummaged in my closet for my favorite boots. They were dark brown, had a zipper that went from ankle to knee, a one-inch heel, and were ab-so-freaking-lute-ly comfortable. A familiar friend.

“It's almost eight,” she said with indifference in her voice. “You know, you don't have to replace dad. You can just grow old with me. I can see it now. We can be two old women with a bunch of cats that hang around in our bathrobes.”

“I’m not trying to replace him.” My shoulders sank at her comment of me trying to replace Todd. He would always hold a place in my heart. I just needed something more in my life. I wasn’t sure what it was, but a replacement husband was not it. I mused, “Ah. Yes. We know Old Widow Amelia Murray. I heard she used to write books and travel. Rumor has it, at one point she used to be interesting. Now she feeds cats and cleans litter boxes all day.”

“The daughter, Old Spinster Hannah Murray, finished college and brought home three cats with her. That started it all. I hear they won millions in the lottery but choose to live the simple life living off canned tuna and the vegetables they grow in their garden. The cats inherit it all when they die.”

“Please, Hannah, don't bring home cats.” The phone still propped on the dresser, I walked over to it and gave her the mom glare. “That will be our downward spiral. Now, if you happen to win millions in the lottery, we can talk about becoming recluses and collecting cats.”

“I’ll get right on that,” Hannah said with a laugh, as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “What's your plan for the day?”

I zipped my suitcase. “After breakfast, I’m heading to Winchester, scope out my hotel, then head north towards the site of Fort Cumberland. It was a pivotal rallying point for General Braddock and the British forces during the French and Indian War. Then up to Fort Necessity.”

I changed out of my joggers and into the skinny jeans. “I’ll be back at the hotel later.” It was edging towards the beginning of May, and the weather in Virginia could still be on the chilly side. My favorite skinny jeans, a pair of knee-high brown leather boots, a white pullover cotton blouse, and topped off with a navy corduroy blazer–the outfit of champions. I pulled my hair back and twisted it around and coiled it at the nape of my neck, forming a chignon. I could not tolerate my hair in my face. I always considered myself a low maintenance woman, with my hair pulled back in a bun or in a braid. On the rare occasion I would wear makeup, but it required too much effort to wear it regularly. As a writer, when I was not out doing research for a book, attending a conference, meeting with agents and publishers, or running errands, I worked from my home office and found no need to put much effort into putting on makeup or dressing up. There was no one at home to impress, and Todd had preferred the more natural look, which suited me perfectly. Without makeup, he could see the freckles that crossed over my cheeks and nose. He loved my freckles.

“Sounds boring. Were you going to head to Pittsburgh?”

“Not today. Fort Duquesne will be a day trip all on its own. I want to spend some time at the other two locations, and I cannot do it all in one day.” I grabbed my phone before heading down the stairs to my office. “When are you coming up to spend some time with me?”

“Did you make sure you packed your toothbrush?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, mother,” I said as I grabbed my brown leather crossbody satchel from under the desk. “Laptop–check. Power cord–check. Notebook with research notes–check. Pens–check. Phone charger–check. I'll grab some snacks and fill my bottle with water, and I think I'm good!” I said, stuffing everything into the satchel. “You still didn't answer me. When are you coming to visit?”

“I have classes every day of the week. I can't make it right now.”

“Next semester you should adjust your schedule. That way, you don’t have to go every day.” I knew she wouldn’t spend every day off with me. I wanted to spend at least some days with her and to make sure she had the opportunity to get out of her apartment and make friends. “What about this weekend?”

“You just want a travel buddy.” A deep sigh came over the phone. She was right, I didn’t always want to be alone. “You should invite Beth on one of your excursions.”

“Her teaching schedule and office hours keep her busy. You didn’t answer me about this weekend.”

“What about Maggie?”

“She has some event at the bookshop.” I’ll call her later to set up a time to come in and sign more books. “Again, what about you?”

“I, uh, well…” Hannah was hesitant in her answer. “I have a date on Friday.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” I stopped what I was doing and stared at my daughter on the phone. It did not disappoint me that Hannah had a date and was too busy to come hang out with me. I was disappointed that she didn't feel as though she could tell me about the date or the guy.

“I didn't want you to get all weird about it. Last time I had a date, you practically threw a party for me.” She was rattling through her answer. “And it's not like your love life is great. I didn't want you to think that I have it good and you don't.”

“I just get excited for you and I'm okay with my love life, or the lack of a love life. Besides, if one thing leads to another, you won't have to become an old recluse with dozens of stray cats with me.” I was happy for Hannah, but it made me more aware that I may end up spending the rest of my life alone. Maybe I should think about getting a cat or two. “So, who is the guy?”

“Mom.” There was the sound of hesitation in Hannah’s voice. There was more to this conversation than we could get into over the phone. I didn't understand why she would keep anything from me, but whatever it was, she didn’t want me to know.

“Come up to Winchester on Saturday, after your date. You can tell me all about it and we'll go explore together.” I checked the time on my phone before I slid it into my back pocket. “I’m meeting Beth. Gotta go.”

8:05. Late again.