***
I climb into the backseat of the car again noting that the horizon looks serene now that dusk is starting to fall. I'd taken a few minutes to go into a local store to buy the essentials. I purchased coffee, fresh pressed juice, some fruit, wine, cheese and bread. It's everything that I've been craving and everything that my body needs. I have no intention of leaving the house once the driver takes me there.
"The reception is great here." The driver's voice startles me. "I heard you having trouble with a call earlier. You can make it now. I can go grab a coffee."
I glance down at my phone and realize that Clive may be leaving the office soon. Our conversation would go a lot smoother if he had access to his computer. I can send him the notes on the apps that Ernie emailed to me.
"That would actually be great," I say with a flourish of my hand. "I'll need thirty minutes or so. Does that work for you or do you need to be somewhere?"
"I'm at your disposal all weekend, Ms. Bell." He tosses me a thin smile. "Mr. Parker said I should be available in case you need me."
"Once you drop me at the house, I don't need you until Sunday at four." I scroll my index finger over my phone's screen. "I'll call Clive and then we'll head out, okay?"
He hands me a plain white card with a ten digit phone number on it. "Call me when you're ready to go, and I'll be back."
I nod as I press the screen to dial Clive's office. This is my last official duty before I cut myself off from civilization for the weekend.
Chapter 32
I watch Seth, the driver Clive hired, as he pulls the car out of the driveway. He'd insisted on helping me bring my suitcase and bags to the door. He wanted to go inside the house with me to check to make certain everything was in working order, but I'd patiently declined. I haven't been to the Foster's house in almost a decade. It looks exactly as I remember it. The green shutters are still a fitting and elegant contrast to the white siding that covers the outside of the house. The trees in the front yard are larger and the stone walkway that leads to the front door is now chipped and overgrown with grass. The essence of the place is exactly as it was when we filled the rooms with laughter during the summer. We'd race down to the beach and while the boys swam in the water, I'd collect rocks and shells on the sand.
I fish for the keys Gabriel gave to me in my purse. I sigh as I feel my fingers grab hold of them. I examine them under the light that is streaming from the lantern hung above the porch. I twist the key in the lock and shiver as I feel it give way. I swing open the door with one hand while I grab the handle of my suitcase with the other.
I run my hand along the wall near the door hopeful that I'll connect with a light switch. I do. The room fills with muted light and I soak in the surroundings.
The main room is elegant and although some of the furniture is covered with white sheets, I feel at home immediately. I'd sat on the green and blue checkered sofa when I played chess with Gabriel and I'd learned how to play a simple tune on the piano in the corner when Asher had a spare moment one rainy afternoon. This place speaks of my childhood and my connection to the Foster family and I realize that in my haste to get away from Caleb I've taken myself back to the heart of our connection.
I walk across the room to stare out into the blackness that envelops the back yard. The beach is just beyond it but I can't see it now. All I can see in my mind's eye is the last day I was in the house when I was fifteen. Miles had gone for a ride with Gabriel and Asher was embroiled in a heated tennis tournament that took him away from all of us for most of the week we were there.
I'd stood in this very spot, overlooking the yard while watching Caleb. He had just come back from the beach. His hair was a wet mess and it clung to the side of his handsome face. He was as tall then as he is now and back when I was a teenager he was imposing, dark and mysterious.
I remember every vivid detail of the day and just as I was about to walk away from the windows, he pulled a towel from a pile that his mother kept near the door for the boys to wipe their feet before they came into the house.
His eyes had darted around the yard but they never settled on the house and with baited breath I stood frozen watching as he turned to the side and slowly pushed his damp swim trunks from his body. It was the first time I'd seen a man naked. I knew that I should look away but I was mesmerized by the sculpted tone of his stomach and the gentle curve of his ass.