The lighthouse

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4

Bobby waited impatiently on the couch. She said she would be by no later than ten. It was now eleven. Maybe something had happened to her. He looked outside and noticed a shadow walking towards the door. Someone knocked and waited for him to yell,

″Come in!″

Evelyn did just that, placing her bag on the floor and closing the door.

″That’s all you have?″

She looked down at her bag.

″I pack light. My father told me to start fresh.″

″Your father seems like a wise man.″

″He is.″

She walked the distance between them and sat down next to him.

″So, where is my room?″


The room was lovely, very feminine. The four poster bed had brass legs to it and a white duvet cover lying on top. The walls were a light purple, with accent rugs in the same color and flower paintings hanging on the walls. It was the exact type of room Evelyn hated.

″Do you have something less girly?″

Bobby laughed and motioned her towards another bedroom.

″That was my fiancee’s room. Well, it was never her room, but it would have been.″

″You have a fiancee?″

She decided to play dumb.

″Not anymore.″

He left it at that, she didn’t ask for more. He opened the door to a light green room, with a king sized bed, a country style duvet cover, large antique furniture and a large fluffy rug. Now that was her type of room. No frills, but comfortable. She laid her bag on the small wooden chair and turned to Bobby.

″Where is your room?″

″You’re in it.″

She gasped, picked up her bag and walked out.

″You should have told me!″

″You can have it for your stay here; I’ll use the other one.″

He pulled her towards the room.

″I want you to be comfortable here; I can tell you hate the other one.″

″Hate is a strong word.″

″Loathe?″

She smiled, but kept her bag in her hands. He looked down at it.

″Do I have to pry it out of your hands?″

She looked at his hands and decided to do it herself. She didn’t want him touching her. Not again.

″Well, thank you for the room; I’ll be going to sleep now.″

″Good night Evelyn, have sweet dreams.″

She smiled, said goodnight and closed the door. She knew one thing for sure. She would be having dreams, of him no doubt, but she feared they would be too sweet.

Evelyn cried out into the night. She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She was safe; her father was safe, nothing bad had happened. It was all just a bad dream. She got out of the bed and walked to the full length mirror. She looked like hell. She felt like it too. If Bobby saw her at this very moment, she would probably die in horror. Her hair was disheveled and crazy looking, probably from all the tossing and turning she had done. She was wearing absolutely no makeup and a men’s sweatshirt with undies. She could smell coffee in the air, deciding to take a shower before going down. As she was about to enter the private bathroom, the bedroom door flung open and Bobby walked in.

″Bobby!″

She tried to hide her half nakedness with her arms, reached for the cover and wrapped it around herself as best she could.

″Are you alright? I heard a scream.″

She looked up at him with her large doe eyes and nodded.

″I’m fine, just a bad dream. You can go now.″

He looked at her for a moment, enough time passed for her cheeks to heat and her legs to go weak. Her resistance was getting weaker by the second. Bobby smiled, another thing she loved about him. She blushed even more; as she saw his eyes linger on her legs.

″Thanks for coming to see if I was okay.″

″No problem.″

He leaned on the door frame, it didn’t seem like he was leaving. Or maybe it was his leg that was hurting.

″Is your leg okay?″

″Why wouldn’t it be?″

Then why was he staying there, looking at her like that?

″I am gonna come down in a few minutes.″

″Fine with me.″

He stared at her for the longest time, until she finally walked towards the bathroom.

″How does someone figure you out Evelyn?″

She continued walking and gave him a soft reply.

″They don’t.″

Bobby had made breakfast. As she walked down the stairs, her hair still wet from taking a shower, she smelled the delicious strong coffee in the air. The smell mingled with something else, something sweeter. As she walked into the kitchen, she saw Bobby drizzling syrup on two plates of pancakes. They smelled like banana, but she couldn’t be sure. If they were, how could he have known it was her favorite?

″Everything smells wonderful.″

Bobby stiffened when he heard her voice; he turned around and looked at her.

″I made my favorite, I hope you’re not allergic to banana pancakes.″

″No.″

She sat down at the table, her mind still reeling from the information he had given her. His favorite was banana pancakes. Her favorite was banana pancakes. This was getting way too freaky.

″Banana?″

He nodded, grabbed the two plates, walked over to the table and placed them in their respective spots. Evelyn sighed, it caught Bobby’s attention.

″What’s wrong Evelyn? You don’t like pancakes. I’m sorry, I’ll make you something else.″

He grabbed her plate before she had a chance to utter a single syllable. He put the plate down and started searching for something else.

″What would you like? Eggs, maybe?″

Evelyn couldn’t find a word to describe what she was feeling. How could she have found this man? How did he even exist? He didn’t start ranting about making breakfast for nothing; he just wanted her to be happy. How the heck could she ever resist him now? She stood up, braced herself for failure, but walked towards him anyways.

″Bobby?″

It came out as a whisper, it caught his attention and he turned around. She had her arms around him in an instant, kissing him with a loose abandon. He was startled at first, but this was exactly what he had wanted from the very beginning. To feel alive. To have his Evelyn in his arms. It made him feel new again, reborn. When they both finally came up for air, Evelyn looked up at him through her lashes and smiled.

″I love you Bobby.″

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