Adirondack Audacity (46 page)

Two dormer windows peek through the roofline,
capped with flower boxes, each box a cascade of
geraniums and ivy. My heart rings with the truth of his
words, for it is not the house nor the contents, but the
voices of loved ones spread out across the lawn that
beckons us, to come and draw near.

“You smell heavenly, like the forest on a summer
day.” He kisses my hair and inhales deeply.
“So do you,’ I whisper, wrapping my arms around his
waist and kiss the dark patch of skin peeking out from
the collar of his shirt.
“Look,” he points down to the fire pits spread out
along the shoreline, two smaller fire circles flanking a
large tower of stacked wood. “I told them to go ahead
and light the fires. We can watch from up here, the view
is better.”
In slow motion our guests gather around the
campfires and we watch as Josh and Claire help the
children light the smaller fires then ignite the kindling at
the base of the main fire. Claire pulls Izzy and Ansel close
within the protective folds of her skirt, their curiosity
outweighs caution. Jack’s brothers spent the better part of
the morning building the main bonfire. Over seven feet
tall, it is a towering pyre. Within minutes a sweeping
cluster of flames reaches to the stars, sparks popping and
cracking, the night sky obliterated by the blaze.
“Hey, are you hiding away up here? There will be
none of that.” It’s Lani standing at the doorway to the
balcony, carrying a tray with champagne flutes. “A toast
to the newlyweds.” She places the tray on a small table by
the railing. “But don’t drink it until Trey gives the toast.”
She admonishes as she hurries back down the stairs.
Our guests gather around the campfire, faces dappled
by the firelight, turn as one holding their glasses in salute
to us. Trey lifts his glass, and his clear baritone voice cuts
through the night air, “To Mom and my new Dad, Sentar,
the warrior king,” this comment elicits laughter from the
assembled group as he continues, “We love you and wish
you mountains of happiness, a love as deep as the lakes,
and may your joy soar like the song of birds on a spring
morning. We wish you peace and a life ruled by
contentment. And may you be blessed by the abundance
of joy that life has to offer.” As we sip our champagne,
from the far corner of the lawn comes, “Knock, knock!”
followed by a chorus of groans. Emi Jo, Ben, Tee and the
ever unflappable Mac continue, “Knock, knock!” And the
resounding response is “Who’s there?” Mac answers,
“Ewe!” And in the spirit of fun, everyone calls back,
“Ewe Who?” And Mac with great flourish raises his glass
in our direction shouting, “We love ewe!”
The night is magical……..with a sense of euphoria in
the air, drunk on the freely flowing champagne, or
perhaps, from the glow of firelight competing with the
moon, leaving little space for stars to fill in the gaps of
the darkened sky.
“I can’t believe they are all here.” Vic murmurs,
shaking his head in wonder.
“Except for Gran and Burt.” I say, laying my head
against his chest, feeling the beat of his heart. “I miss
them so much.”
“Oh, I think they’re here,” he says. “I feel their
presence. For instance, Burt is perched up in that red
maple tree by the water.” He motions to a maple tree
skirting the shoreline. “And Gran is down by the dock
trying to con Jack’s brothers into a poker game.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely, I know so. Here, you’re getting cold.” He
opens his jacket so I can slip my arms around his waist,
wrapping me in the cocoon of his body heat. “Better?”
“Much. It’s blissful.” Closing my eyes, I enjoy the feel
of his arms around me.
Strains of music drift from the band playing under a
tent. Sounds that filter through the night air, to mingle
and merge with the chorus of frogs and early crickets in
the reeds along the shoreline. Humming along with the
music, the band playing an old favorite, I watch Jack’s
parents twirl around the dance floor. “Look at them, how
much in love they are, after all these years. That will be us
in thirty years, won’t it?”
“Absolutely, and I think we should start by taking a
spin under the stars, see if your dancing skills can keep up
with the competition.” He sways to the beat of the music,
pausing for a moment, “I like Jack’s family. I know how
much they mean to you. It was generous of them to come
and be part of our wedding.”
“They’re special people. Oh, look, over there.” I
point to a couple dancing under the shadows of the birch
tree. “It’s Siobhan, Jack’s sister, dancing with Ike.”
“You’re right.” Vic leans over the railing to get a
better view. “They look pretty cozy.”
“Siobhan recently divorced a man she should have
sent packing years ago. And
…
” I pause for dramatic
effect. “She took one look at Ike, it was like watching a
starving cat in front of an open bird cage, topped with
catnip.”
“Ahhh, the ladies do like Ike, he just isn’t one for
keeping them around too long.”
“True, but they haven’t tken their eyes off each other
since they met.” I point out to him.
“I agree. He does appear smitten. He left the poker
game last night to take a walk with her. That’s unheard
of in the world of Ike.” Vic sighs and tilts his head. “Who
knows, maybe, this year he won’t take that trip to
Pittsburgh looking for his lost love. I’d like for him to
find someone. No one deserves to be alone.”
Actually, I think he’s perfect for Siobhan. She needs
to have a little fun and I know Ike will be kind to her.
And I……..I have a teensy tiny confession to make.”
“Oh boy…mortal, venal or sin of the white lie
category?”
“Well….ummmmmm……I put something in her
purse.” I blush even thinking about it.
“And what did you put in her purse?”
“Aaaah….the pink ones.”
“The pink ones.......what pink ones?” Then
comprehension dawns on him. “Seriously, you put pink
condoms in her purse?”
“Well……you see, she’s out of practice,” I pause for
a breath, blurting out, “And not exactly the type to be
toting her own.”
“Kind of like you, when your girlfriends forced them
upon you.” He chuckles.
I arch my eyebrows at him coyly, “Just returning the
favor. It worked
very
well for me.”
“That it did, my darling; that it did. But I hate to tell
you, I think Ike usually packs his own, and pink isn’t his
color.”
“It will be dark;; he won’t be caring if they’re pink or
royal red with polka dots.”
Suddenly the sky overhead explodes into a burst of
color and a loud boom resonates throughout the valley.
“Ohhh……ohhhh……fireworks!” I clap my hands in
glee, doing an imitation of a five-year old girl at her first
parade. My eyes shine in the reflective glare, I
love
fireworks.
“For you, my mia bella, happy wedding day,
quierda.
”
“But….but….how did you do this?”
“I filed a petition with the town council. They balked,
but your hero status after the kidnapping helped, they felt
sorry for you and gave us a permit for five minutes of
fireworks, so don’t blink or you’ll miss the show.”
“Oh, no, that’s just enough;; I feel guilty disturbing
the mountain peace, but what a guilty pleasure.” I leave
the sanctuary of his body, craning my head to watch the
collusion of fire and gun power ignite the sky. “Look….
look, I love the white ones that rain down gold.” A series
of green and pink embers explode, “No, maybe it’s the
green ones or the red, white and blue spinners…..Oh, I
don’t know…….. I love them all! Thank you, thank you,
thank you, you are the best husband ever!” I pepper his
face with kisses.
“And don’t you forget it.” He growls in my ear, his
hands sliding down my body possessively. He kisses the
back of my neck and his fingers do some clever
maneuvers along the sensitive secret hollow of my hips.
Those magic fingers have my full attention with the
promise of things to come……
“Are those roving hands a promise, or are you just
teasing me?”
“Buttercup, there are teases, threats, and certainties,
this is definitely a certainty.”
Once the fireworks fade to falling embers of ash, and
the bonfires reduced to a bed of glowing coals, a soft
twinkling spreads across the meadows surrounding the
house, blinking on and off. The twinkling repeats in the
trees and bushes hugging the fields.
Fireflies.
The fireflies
of June. Beautiful tiny, blinking orbs of greenish white
light, the glow emitted from the abdomen of the female.
In the tall grass the female signals for her mate,
blink,
blink, blink,
I’m here, over here, come find me. A call of
love, so simple in its purity.
Releasing a breath in silence, my entire being comes
alive in the perfection of the moment. These rare
serendipitous moments we live for, that space in
time……precious, singular, wondrous…bordering on
divine.
“It will just be you and me, babe, spending the entire
summer on this beautiful mountain lake,” he whispers.
“Being lazy, sleeping in till noon, cook or not cook, eat
whenever and whatever we want; stay up all night
watching the fireflies, skinny dip off the dock, paddle to
the island, or lounge in the sun doing absolutely nothing.
That’s my idea of heaven, right here with you. Going
nowhere, doing nothing.”
“Really?” I ask, holding my breath and blink my eyes
rapidly, already knowing the answer to the query. “Won’t
that be boring?”
“Nope, you, me, Cyrus, and the kids now and then,
that’s it.”
“
Oh, boy
…….”
“What do you mean…..Oh boy?” He cocks his head
to one side, and his lips twitch in amusement.
“Maybe we want to do a
little
something?” I rub my
hand along his chest in a soothing motion, thinking it’s
not like I can’t get the registration fee back, and no one is
counting on us or anything like that. I guess I should
have thought this one through or asked him before I
signed us up. At the time it seemed like a great idea.
Okay, I got caught up in the excitement of the moment
and the idea of a challenge. What was I to do?
Ask
him
……..so I should have asked him. But he’s
not
going
to like it.
Steeling myself for our first fight as a married couple,
I plunge in…“I signed us up for the 90 Mile Adirondack
Canoe Classic in September.” I rush on before he can
protest. “We start practice tomorrow;; the trainer arrives
at 9:00 a.m. sharp. He’s German or something, we don’t
dare be late.”
“What!”
“You love me, right?”
“
Thunk, thunk, thunk.”
“That was your head?”
“Yes….”
“Still love me?” I hear him muttering away in
Spanish.
“Always, Elle, always. Forever and ever more. I did
say for better or worse, good times and bad. How far is
this race?”
“Ninety miles.”
“
Wow
…we have a lot of practicing to do;; did you say
this trainer is German?”
“Ummmm….yes.”
“I hope he comes with super powers and is a
licensed miracle maker. With your athletic prowess and
talent for tipping boats along with my penchant for being
lazy, this guy needs a direct line to the gods.”
“It was that damn snotty lady at the registration desk,
she goaded me into it. I was just asking about the race
and she said I was too old to participate.” I say
indignantly. “What was I to do? It wasn’t my fault!”
He kisses the top of my head. “It never is, darling, it
never is.”
“
Whew.”
I love this man. I love his strength, his sense
of humor, his innate honorability, the intoxicating hold
he has over me and I love that he
gets
me. I burrow my
head into his chest, knowing I will love him always, a love
born in these mountains, once lost…….and
now…..forever found…….

L.R. Smolarek and her husband are self-proclaimed
gypsies. Their caravan, a 24 foot RV with two kayaks
hanging off the back is home for a good portion of the
year. In the company of two very spoiled little dogs, they
travel across the country, coming to rest in the
Adirondacks, along the beaches of Florida or hiking the
canyons and mountains of the west. But for winter, home
is a cabin, once her grandfather’s sugar shack tucked in
the woods of Western New York. Her writing has
appeared in
Country Living magazine, National PTA
and for
eight years she wrote a monthly column called
Nature’s
Corner
for
Western New York Family
magazine where she
drew on her experiences as a naturalist encouraging
families to spend more time learning and exploring the
great outdoors
.