The Cottage by the River

Part I

The sight of the riverside cottage's washed out, blue-grey shingled siding and white shutters relax me after a lengthy drive from the city. It's Friday afternoon and the sun is still shining, giving me some reprieve from normal life. My good friend, Rachel, whom I've known since high school, has graciously given me the weekend in this private bungalow by the Rappahannock River. This place is far away from my two-bedroom apartment in the city- far from my hectic work life. I need to escape the juggling of projects, the nagging team leaders in desperate need of help, and the constant work-related fires that need to be stomped out. Slowly deteriorating, my personal life suffers as well. This quick getaway is my last attempt to gather some sanity in my life.

I sit in my white, four door sedan gazing at the quaint cottage: two worn, red Adirondack chairs with a side table between them, untrimmed brushes underneath each window, a sun catcher made of ten blue stars hanging in the bay window, and the pine trees sparsely surrounding the property. It's exactly the way I remember it from the summer just before my junior year in high school. I lug my small suitcase, a satchel holding my laptop, my purse, and a bottle of water to the front door.

A gentle pre-spring breeze sweeps through the yard and a shiver slings up my body inside my buttoned up pea coat. I'm glad that winter will be ending within a few weeks-I never cared much for cold weather. Sun, heat, and clear, blue skies agreed with me more. However, I do love the crispy smell of winter on the river. The smell of musk and salt water intoxicates my senses as seagulls low in the distance. I smile.

I find the key inside a hideaway box underneath the mailbox hanging left of the front door. The key fits easily into the deadbolt and unlocks. With a quick flip of the switch, I take in the living room. The soft yellow walls give the room its color as the sofa chair, love seat, and couch are beige. The living room's main attraction is the fireplace. It smells of salt water and stale air-the kind of air that is stagnant for a long period of time. I toss my car keys and the cottage key onto the console table near the door then directly head to the master bedroom with all my baggage.

A white Stratton bed with rattan baskets in the platform of the frame fits perfectly inside the small room. A matching desk sits in a corner facing the window, and between the closet and bathroom door is a worn blue dresser. I fling my gang of items onto the white duvet with purple hibiscus flowers and cream throw then sigh. I want a nice, hot shower.

A long week of hard, relentless work seems to be scrubbed away and all stress washed down the drain. Freesia empowers the bathroom, overpowering the staleness of the house that was once there. When I'm finish, I don't bother to wipe down the mirrors like I usually do. I start my nightly routine of moisturizing my skin, brushing my hair into a ponytail and then brushing my teeth. Finally, I slip into a fresh pair of underwear, a white t-shirt, and blue and white-striped pajama bottoms.

Placing my purse on top of the dresser, my bottle of water on the nightstand, my luggage in the closet, I take out my laptop and boot it up. My cell phone chimes letting me know that I have a voicemail message. I have one missed call. It's Rachel. But I decide to check her message instead of calling her back.

"Hey, Nathalie. It's me." She pauses. "I promise this will be the only time I call you, but I wanted to give you a heads up that Luke will be coming by tomorrow to fix the light in the spare bedroom. He knows you're there. I warned him to leave you alone as you're in desperate need of a stress-free weekend. I'll Skype you Wednesday."

I delete the message then pull my charger from my satchel. Plugging the charger into an outlet behind the bed, I connect my phone and leave it face up on the nightstand.

I'm in need of a quiet weekend to myself, but the news about Luke, Rachel's younger brother, doesn't rattle me. I haven't seen Luke since Rachel's wedding several years ago. He'd joined the Air Force and was deployed a lot. I remembered Rachel telling me that he got out of the service and moved back into town a few months ago. Actually, I look forward to catching up with him. Despite what Rachel has said to him, he doesn't need to leave me alone.