Chapter 1
Matt tugged his bag from the back of the silver blue Honda and strode to the door of the rented house. He double-checked the door code on his phone and punched it in. When the lock buzzed he turned the handle and stepped into the airy, comfortable house. Its tall windows bathed the spacious living area with natural light. He looked out of the windows in the great room to scan the vista of pines, firs, and clear blue sky.
What a great place! I’m going to enjoy myself here in spite of everything. Fuck her, she can’t ruin my vacation now.
Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore was the magnet for this trip, and Matt had researched an assortment of hiking trails, kayaking spots, restaurants, and other attractions to choose from.
The most significant element of this vacation to him was that he did little scheduling. His ex was a true planning tyrant, but the only firm commitments Matt made before their big blowup were for the rental house and one exceptional restaurant. In the meantime he’d undergone the self-revelation that his flexible nature and sense of spontaneous discovery had been all but smothered over the previous months by his controlling wet blanket of a girlfriend. No more, he vowed, no more.
He ate a late lunch in a local cafe, poked around a few nearby galleries, and picked up some breakfast essentials at Anderson’s Market. Then it was back to the house to finish off his leftovers and unwind with a nice Barbera d’Asti. He had hit the road early when driving up from Chicago so he made an early night of it.
Matt slept soundly that night, secure in the knowledge that the following day would unfold without constraints – or criticisms. Over breakfast he picked the Sleeping Bear Point trail as his objective. He had not done much hiking in sandy habitat so he couldn’t predict how much of the loop he would accomplish. What does it matter? I’ll have fun whether or not I finish it. He planned to take a lunch and spend the day outdoors. The crisp morning air invigorated him as he strolled the few blocks from the rental to Anderson’s Market. He could pick up a sandwich and take plenty of water in his backpack. He entered the market and scanned it to find the deli section.
His eyes came to rest on the slim figure of a woman. Her back was toward him, and her leggings highlighted the rounded curves of her butt and her toned, shapely legs. He wondered whether she might be approachable, but at that moment she glided away.
Matt shrugged. At least he could still appreciate the merits of the female form, even though he hadn’t seen her face. He rolled his cart through the narrow aisles until he found the section with premade sandwiches. As he looked over the selection his eyes landed on the “Point Betsie,” a reference to a nearby historic lighthouse. The sandwich featured roasted turkey and dill havarti. That sounded like a winner.
Matt reached for the sandwich and his hand collided with a smaller one.
“Whoops! Sorry, I didn’t notice you.”
Matt turned to focus on the speaker. It was the trim brunette, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her deep hazel eyes met his own with the barest flicker of interest.
“You go ahead and take it,” offered Matt. “I’ll pick out something else.”
“That’s very kind of you, but maybe there’s another one in the basket…” She pulled the basket out from under the shelf overhang and saw it held just the single sandwich.
Matt touched her forearm with his finger. She didn’t flinch, but he noticed how her eyes narrowed.
“Look, it’s fine, I had a turkey sandwich yesterday anyway.” He lowered his hand and tried to look casual. She apparently didn’t care for a stranger touching her.
“You had this same sandwich yesterday?”
“No, I had the turkey with avocado over at Good Harbor Grill.”
“Oh my god, that one is huge! And it has bacon too, I can never come close to finishing it.”
Matt relaxed, realizing she was a local. She would have prejudices about tourist visitors to her turf, he had to anticipate that. At least some of the awkwardness seemed to have drained from their interplay over, of all things, a turkey sandwich.
“I saved half of it for dinner, I just made it a bit classier by adding a bottle of wine and candles on the table.” He grinned at her.
She chuckled softly, but her expression remained neutral. “Thanks for letting me take this one. ’Bye now.”
Before Matt could respond she turned on her heel and was on her way to the register. “Well there’s a cool one,” he muttered to himself. “I wonder if she ever thaws out enough to give a guy her number.” He selected a consolation Italian combo and dropped it into his cart.
As he wheeled away from the deli he turned to glance at the register, but she was already headed out the door. Matt shrugged. You win some, you lose some. I probably triggered her by touching her. At least I managed to talk to her instead of freezing up like an idiot after all the shit with Lacey. Anyway it’s not like I expected to meet someone up here.
He pushed his cart around to the beverage cooler.
Matt’s foreboding over hiking on sand proved well-founded. He found the soft surface heavy going at first, even as he admired the unique habitat: sand reed grass, dune goldenrod, bearberry, beach pea - highly adapted dune plants scrabbling for a foothold in the unforgiving sand. Scrubby cottonwoods and jack pines rose up through the ground vegetation, forming a matrix for tenuous stabilization of the ever-shifting dunes. It was a symbiotic relationship.
As he climbed the trail through a blowout area and neared Sleeping Bear Point, the sweeping panorama of brilliant, sunlit sand was set off by the almost indescribable deep blues and aquas of the Lake Michigan waters. Matt wasn’t much of a beach person, but this view stunned him with its unrelenting beauty. He spent several minutes trying to get an adequate depiction of the scene with his phone. It was difficult to tear himself away.
He backtracked to the main part of the loop while his mind wandered back to Lacey. He knew she would have complained every minute that they were just standing there ‘looking at nothing.’ Matt shook his head and took a pull from his water bottle. He was free from her controlling shit now, that’s what really counted. His mood soared as he immersed himself in the panorama around him.
The trail moved down the dune to enter the forest, and a blue jay screeched and darted through the trees as a welcome breeze sprang up. The path was firmer here behind the dune and the balsams and arbor vitae provided pleasant coolness. He stopped to enjoy his sandwich on a log, chuckling as small warblers and kinglets hopped along nearby branches to find their own lunch. He completed the loop at a relaxed but steady pace.
Matt headed back to the house with an air of satisfaction. He had scheduled what promised to be an exceptional dining experience for the evening. Showering the sand and sweat from his body, he basked in the pleasant memory of the hike through the cool forest after absorbing the amazing view from the high dune. This vacation was off to a promising start.
He selected a well-fitting pair of dark slacks and a light blue button-up dress shirt. He thought about wearing his Keens again, but reached instead for the black Amberjacks. These are comfy enough without being casual. He ran a brush through his wavy hair and set off on the walk to the restaurant. It was only a pleasant ten minute stroll away.
Matt pulled open the door and entered Blu. This upscale restaurant would be his major extravagance for the trip and he was looking forward to it. The hostess greeted him and acknowledged his reservation with a smile. “Welcome, Mr. Hansen. I hope that you enjoy your evening with us.”
“I’m sure that I will,” said Matt, returning her smile. “I’ve heard great things about your restaurant and I have confidence that you’ll live up to them.”
“That gives us something to aim for! Please follow me.” The hostess led him to a small banquette section. Matt noted with a glance that the restaurant only held ten or so tables, two of them for larger parties. Each of them had a white linen tablecloth.
The hostess turned to him. “You can see that a prime feature of our room is the great view of the sunset. I assume you’d like to take the seat with the view?”
“Of course,” said Matt. “I wouldn’t miss it.” He noted the floor-to-ceiling window arrangement on the north and west sides of the room as he slid into the upholstered seat.
The hostess beamed. “Nick will be with you shortly. I hope you enjoy your meal.” She handed him the menu and the wine list, then turned and walked back around the corner to her station.
Matt settled in, looking out the tall windows at the offshore Manitou Islands. A pink glow began to outline them as the sun dipped toward the horizon. As he gazed at the view, a slender hand took his water glass and filled it.
“Thank you,” said Matt, noticing the subtle nail polish. His head swiveled up to see the trim young woman, her dark hair now pulled into a tight bun, wearing a plain white shirt and black pants. Her dark hazel eyes met his and her eyebrows arched. She gave him the barest hint of a nod and slipped away, the subtle undulations of her firm glutes holding his attention.
Matt’s brow furrowed. Those eyes, and that pert little button nose… his mind flashed back to the brief encounter in the supermarket. It was the same woman, he was sure of it. Had she recognized him? She gave little indication. Well, unless she handed him an obvious opening he saw no need to make any awkward overtures.
“Hello, I’m Nick and I’ll be your server this evening.”
Nick was a sandy-haired man with bright blue eyes, in his late thirties Matt guessed. He was a bit soft around the middle although still in decent shape. Matt granted that working in a high end restaurant would be a bit of a challenge if you were any kind of foodie.
“Hello, Nick. Shall I put in a starter course and we’ll go from there?”
“Oh, Chef prefers that we put in the entire order at once.”
“Ah, I see, that must be easier to manage with a small kitchen and all. Well, I’m thinking of the fried green tomatoes with feta to begin, and the sea scallops and risotto for the entreé. How large are these salads?”
“They’re a manageable portion.” He mimed the plate size with his hands. “Which one would you like, the spring greens or the arugula?”
“I’ll have the arugula and apple salad.”
“Perfect. Have you selected a wine, or would you care for something else to drink?”
Matt had the list open in front of him and pointed. “I’d like this Pouilly-Fuissé, please.”
“That’s an excellent choice for the scallops. I’ll go put in the order and return with your wine.”
Matt relaxed. He glanced at a couple of the nearby tables and thought the portions looked reasonable. He might have to skip dessert but that wasn’t a deal breaker to him. He again turned his attention to the windows. Twenty minutes to sunset, and it looks like it will be a treat!
The woman glided into view again, placing a plate with a roll on the table along with a small bowl of butter. Matt turned his head and caught her eyes once more. She coolly met his gaze, then walked away. Had she added just a little sway to her hips – or was his imagination being overactive? He grinned, wondering if her veneer would crack at some point during the meal.
Nick opened the wine before bringing the appetizer. Matt took a bite of the tomatoes and feta. He closed his eyes and let the savory, assertive flavors dance over his tongue. When he opened them the impending arrival of a stunning sunset drew his gaze. A rich orange glow spread from the sun along the horizon.
Her figure again slipped into his field of view, the fiery colors of the horizon highlighting her slim curves. She bent to serve a plate at another table. As she stood erect their eyes met again. His interest got the better of him and he raised his wine glass. Pink flared in her cheeks as she turned away and walked from the room.
Marie greeted her as she came back from the dining area and stopped at the hostess station. “Is everything going okay in there tonight, Tara?”
“Yeah, it’s been a pretty smooth night. When you see him, remind Nick that I served the duck confit at number four.” She paused, her expression turning thoughtful. “What do you make of the dude flying solo at number ten?”
Marie leaned over the small podium and lowered her voice. “I can tell you that he made a reservation several weeks ago, and it was for two people. Then he called last night to say it would just be him. What does that sound like to you?”
Tara tucked a stray wisp of dark hair back into her bun. “That sounds like he planned a vacation getaway with his significant other, but he broke up with the other person before coming here.”
Marie nodded. “That was my thought, a breakup happened and he went through with his trip anyway. That takes some self-confidence, as does dining by yourself.” She grinned at Tara. “He’s kind of hot, isn’t he?”
The younger woman turned pink again. “Is he? Maybe you’re just used to having a room full of well-heeled seniors. Any guy with no gray hair, pot belly, or wrinkles looks good after that.”
“Maybe so,” Marie chuckled. “But he’s easy on the eyes in those pants and seems pretty buff. I didn’t get any gay vibe from him either. If you should feel like chatting him up, just make sure you are caught up with the other tables. I wouldn’t want Chef Rodney to get annoyed at me.”
“Bullshit,” snapped Tara. “You can make Chef go sleep on the couch if he gets all salty with you – I don’t have that kind of leverage!” Both women giggled.
Marie gestured. “Maybe when the room quiets down, then. But you shouldn’t ignore him, if he’s single now he looks like a catch.”
Tara glared at her a moment, then said, “I’m going to help with the backlog of salad orders.” She heard Marie chuckling as she headed off to the kitchen.
Image by the author
