Gerri Hill: The Cottage

remarried after my father died. Now they spend their time traveling around in a motor

home."

"Oh, how fun. Just imagine the freedom."

"Yeah. I miss seeing her but she's having a blast. I can't begrudge her for that."

A loud clap of thunder nearly shook the vehicle and the steady drizzle of earlier turned

into a downpour. They looked at each other and smiled.

"You may be stuck in here," Jill said.

"Well, I could think of worse places to be stuck." She glanced at her watch. "But you only

have twenty minutes left. I should have come earlier."

"Six minutes. That's how long it takes to drive back to the office. But it won't be the end

of the world if I'm late."

"No, but I bet it would be shocking. I picture you as one of those very punctual types and it

probably drives you crazy to be late somewhere."

Jill laughed. "And how do you know this?"

"Because you get to the park at exactly five after one each day and leave the park at

exactly seven till two."

Jill laughed again. "It gives me a minute to spare."

"But you haven't finished your lunch," Carrie said, pointing to the half-eaten sandwich. "I

shouldn't have barged in on you. I just took a chance you might be here."

"Actually, I was disappointed it was raining. I didn't think you'd be here. I mean, not that I

expect you to entertain me during lunch or anything," she added quickly.

Carrie laughed. "I enjoy your company too. I don't have a lot of girlfriends anymore," she

said. "It seems that once I retired from real estate, I just lost touch with most of them.

James and I have couple friends but I don't really have any close friends all to myself."

"I know what you mean. Our friends are other coaches and their wives. Or his softball

buddies and their wives."

"Funny how that is, isn't it."

"I'm not nearly as outgoing as he is," Jill explained. "I enjoy my alone time too much. Craig,

on the other hand, has to have constant entertainment, either in person or on his cell. I

swear, he sleeps with the damn thing."

"I've got one just like that. I can relate."

"You probably don't even have a cell phone, do you?"

Carrie laughed. "I was the one sleeping with it when I was working. I mean, I have one still

but I rarely have it on unless I need to call someone. I don't like the interruptions."

They sat for a moment, both quiet. Jill knew she should be leaving and she glanced quickly

at her watch.

"I know. You need to go."

Jill nodded slowly. "Yes. Time. But it's pouring. Can I drop you somewhere?"

"Oh, no. I love the rain, really. When it's over and the sun comes out, everything is all

fresh and clean. I love it. Besides, I know the more rain we get now, the greener it'll be

come spring." She smiled. "Colors, my dear. An artist's best friend."

"Well, maybe tomorrow—"

"We'll have sunshine," Carrie finished for her. She reached to the floorboard of the car

and retrieved her wet umbrella. "Drive carefully, Jill."

Before Jill could reply, Carrie had slipped out into the rain. She was but a shadow through

the foggy windows and Jill sat for a moment, watching her disappear into the trees.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"I can't believe you've never been in a canoe," Carrie said as they tossed bread to the

ducks later that week.

"I've been in a paddleboat. Does that count?"

Carrie fixed her pale blue eyes on her, a slow smile forming. "When the weather warms,

we'll rent one."

Jill nodded, then lifted her shoulders inside her jacket, trying to stay warm. "It's

downright frigid today."

"And didn't your mother warn you about being outside without your head covered?"

Carrie took the wool cap off her own head and covered Jill's, pulling it down around her

ears. She laughed then brushed Jill's hair out of her eyes.

"There."

Jill laughed, staring at Carrie's short hair, the salt-and-pepper strands standing in

disarray. "Maybe you should keep it," she teased. "You might scare off the ducks."

"Funny girl. You know, I haven't seen you eat lunch all week. Am I cutting into your time?"

"And I haven't seen you sketch. Perhaps it's me cutting into your time."

"I can sketch anytime. I enjoy our visits too much to interrupt them."

"Do you?"

Carrie stopped and turned, her eyes serious. "Yes, of course. You've become the highlight

of my days."

"God, if that's the case, you must have very boring days."

"Boring? No, not really. But I look forward to seeing you. It's funny, you know. I'd watched

you for over a week, sitting on your park bench. And as a people-watcher, you try to guess

who they are, what they are, what their life is like. But you, I couldn't quite nail it. You

were doing your own people-watching too. You never brought a book to read, you just sat

there and looked around. I always wondered what you were thinking." She tossed the last

of the bread to the ducks then dusted off her hands on her jeans. "You seemed a bit

unapproachable, so I had already decided I wouldn't interrupt your days. That didn't stop

me from sketching you," she added with a laugh.

"Did I really seem unapproachable?"

"Well, let me ask you this. In all the time you've been coming here, has anyone ever just

walked up to you and started a conversation?"

Jill frowned and shook her head. "No. I guess not."

"You probably didn't realize it but you always picked a spot that was away from others,

away from the footpath and away from the lake." She shrugged. "Away from traffic. Away

from people."

Jill smiled then slipped two fingers under the warm wool cap to scratch her ear. "You

overanalyze, don't you?"

Carrie laughed, again scattering the ducks. Jill loved her laugh, deep and rich. It echoed

around them.

"You just say what's on your mind, don't you?"

"As do you."

Carrie nodded. "Yes, I tend to overanalyze. So, my depiction of you as hating people is not

true?"

It was Jill's turn to laugh. "I don't hate people. It's just teenagers, remember."

"And mothers-in-law," Carrie added.

They retraced their steps, heading back to the park bench that Jill normally occupied. As

usual, the hour had flown by. And tomorrow was another Friday.

"Do you have plans for the weekend?" Carrie asked.

Jill nodded. "Craig has an out-of-town basketball tournament on Saturday. I've promised to

take Angie and a couple of her friends to the games. It'll be an all-day affair, I fear."

"Teenagers," Carrie said with a laugh. "I hope you survive."

"I hope they survive. My patience just isn't there anymore. What about you?"

Carrie stared out at the lake, her voice low. "Birthday party. James turns forty-five."

"You don't sound excited."

"It's a surprise party the boys and his mother insisted on. James hates surprise parties.

He'll kill me."

"You could always secretly tell him," Jill suggested.

Carrie laughed. "Now there's an idea. But knowing James, he would simply refuse to get

home in time for the alleged dinner at his mother's house."

"Then go with plan B—act as surprised as he is."

Carrie nodded, her smile causing the laugh lines around her eyes to show. "I like the way

you think. That I might just try."

Jill shoved up the sleeve of her coat, glancing at her watch. She turned regretful eyes to

Carrie.

"Time."

Carrie nodded. "I know."

"See you tomorrow?"

"For sure."

Jill nodded then turned, only to be stopped by a light touch on her arm. She paused, her

eyes going first to the hand still resting on her sleeve, then to the eyes that waited for