AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A wide smile slowly stretches his face. His eyes on mine shine as if he knows something I don’t. I swallow past the expanding nervousness in my throat. My knuckles bleach as I squeeze the chair arms.
This cannot be good.
“Alright then.” He rises from the chair and walks way too leisurely to the door. A door less than three feet away. I exhale as one foot steps past the threshold but hold a new breath when he spins to face me again. “Well, since there was no magic, yet you wrote the best article of your career”—he pauses and I cringe at what is undoubtedly coming next—“I’m sending you back. Different season, different perspective on the town, different story.”
How did I not see this coming? Hell, I set the trap. He knows I intentionally omitted something. So by sending me back, he assumes I will confess my secrets.
Wrong.Better luck next time, old man.
“Sure, I’ll go back,” I tell him with a smug smile on my face. “What should I write about?”
He shrugs. “Last time, it was the start of fall. The time of year for pumpkins and sweaters and outdoor fires. Now, people are shedding their sweaters for short sleeves and sandals. Show me what happens in Lake Lavender this time of year. Maybe they have spring or summer festivals. Meet the townspeople. Make nice with the shop owners. Give me a feel-good story.”
“A feel-good story?”
“Yes. Something that will make Washingtonians eager to visit.”
“And when do yousuggestI make this visit?”
He glances down at his watch as if it has a calendar instead of an analog face and studies it too hard to be checking the time. “The sooner, the better. Have dinner with us tonight and take tomorrow to book your stay. Two weeks should be a sufficient amount of time to get another whirlwind of a story.”
“Two weeks?” I all but squeak out.
The corner of his mouth tugs up. “Yes, two weeks. Not like you don’t have the time.” That well-known fact twists a knife in my heart. “And the weekend doesn’t count, but spend it there anyway.”
Why does it feel as if I’m in grade school all over again and Dad is sending me to summer camp?
I remember those days. When summer camp included weeklong camping excursions. Just the group of us, coolers of food, tents and sleeping bags, and nature. I didn’t want to go, but Dad swore I would enjoy it, that being with my peers in the woods is an adventure every child should enjoy.
Though I love the outdoors now, I remember coming home from the trip with itchy red rashes on my skin from the poison ivy I trekked through unknowingly. Let’s just say I memorized the “leaves at three, let it be” phrase really quick.
“Anything else?” I ask with a hint of sarcasm.
He spins on his heel and all but skips away from my office. “No. See you at dinner.”
Everything looks greener. Brighter. More abundant.
On my previous drive along this highway, I remember more buildings through the thinning trees. Signs to lure passersby to mouth-watering restaurants, fun tourist traps, and quirky shops. Vendors on the side of smaller roads selling farm-fresh produce. Easygoing residents with friendly smiles. The air thickly scented by the rich earth and piney evergreens.
In the city, the view is filled with tall buildings. The streets packed with cars. The distant skyline a mix of tall trees and mountains. The air a blend of salt and pine and exhaust.
Taking the next exit, I steer the SUV east and drive toward Lake Lavender. With each passing mile, the forestry grows thicker, lusher. Tall mountain hemlock trees line either side of the road, partially shading the street from the early afternoon sun. I roll down the window, inhale deeply, and sag into the seat as the crisp, piney air fills my lungs.
In no time, I have grown addicted to the air outside the city. How each breath smells better than the previous. How each pass of the breeze feels on my skin; cool and invigorating and full of promise. Every now and again, I question why I still live in Seattle. Question why I haven’t moved away from the noise.
My eyes rove the forestry as my wheels eat up the miles, and it isn’t long before the town welcome sign comes into view.
Welcome to Lake Lavender, Washington. Established 1919.
Lake Lavender is a populous town but not clouded by racket and congestion. Life is simpler. Residents travel on foot or by bicycle often. Strolling down the sidewalk and peering in shop windows. Pedaling in the bicycle lane on the main road, head bopping as they listen to music through earbuds.
Everyone here is just… happy.
I drive down Main Street until I reach Lavandula Lane, then turn right. Half a mile down the street, I steer into the lot of the Lake Lavender Bed and Breakfast.
Most B&Bs I’ve lodged at are small and quaint. A handful of guest rooms with one or two communal areas.
Not the Lake Lavender Bed and Breakfast. This place is huge. Closer to a resort than what most people call a bed-and-breakfast. In this small town, I suppose they need space for more than five to ten visitors, considering it is the only place for guests to stay.
