Summer of Second Chances - Andrea Hurst Page 0,136
at the big house, all lit up against the dark night. She programmed the GPS for Washington State, clutched the steering wheel, and drove off through the misty rain.
Chapter 2
The Washington State ferry cut through the ocean currents much the way Lily was cutting through her life: swiftly, mercilessly, and with a clear destination–Madrona Island. Lily lifted her head to the wind, enjoying the view from the upper deck. A faint silhouette of land emerged through the low-floating fog. She gripped the icy hand railing as the butterflies in her stomach turned to knots.
Doubt crept in like the morning fog. Have I made the right decision to come here? A ray of sun pierced the clouds and lit the water with a thousand glittering flashbulbs. The lush green of the island shore beckoned in the distance, and the sound of lapping waves called to her. The wet winters in the Pacific Northwest were a whole different experience than sunny Southern California.
With a sigh of relief, Lily lifted her head. She would face this and she would do it, for the first time in her life, alone. A light gust of wind rolled over the deck, bringing with it the familiar scent of sea air. She tightened her wool scarf and dug her icy hands into her pockets. The ferry’s horn blasted, announcing its approach to shore. She turned quickly, almost bumping into a tall, dark-haired man. Their eyes met for a brief second—his intense blue eyes seeming to look right through her. The spark between them was unmistakable. Momentarily stunned, she stared, mesmerized at the striking face before her. “Excuse me,” she managed to get out as her eyes searched the deck for the correct staircase.
“No problem,” he said, a wide smile crossing his face.
Lily felt a flush creep up her neck into her cheeks as she fled for the stairs. She located her car keys and escaped the icy wind. “I think I just had a hallucination,” she laughed to herself. “No real man has ever affected me that way before. I’m sure my heart stopped beating.” As she climbed into her SUV, she looked up to see the same man taking the last step down from the deck and turning toward her car. For a moment she thought he was following her, but then he continued past and entered a Volvo station wagon two cars behind her.
When she looked up, a ferry worker was waving her to exit and she hadn’t even started her car. Fumbling with the keys, she managed to start the engine and exit the ferry onto the two-lane highway. The GPS showed the main highway, which divided the east and west sides of the island. Her gaze drifted out the window to open fields and tree-lined hills. Billowing steel-gray clouds hung low in the sky, and a fine mist dusted her windshield. Hands still frozen, she turned up the heat. This was definitely not the weather she was used to in Los Angeles; it would take some acclimation to be comfortable in this damp, bone-chilling climate.
Up ahead the stoplight turned yellow and she slowed to stop. The street sign offered two alternatives: Grandview, four miles; Forest Glen, ten. Her stomach growled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Grandview was the closest, and if her memory was accurate, it would offer a cozy town and a place for a hot lunch. To the right it was then. The road narrowed as towering pines and cedars sprang against the backdrop of the dazzling red bark of Madrona trees.
Lily slipped another CD into the player; smooth jazz fit the mood of the setting. As she entered the city limits, charming older houses trimmed in gingerbread shared the landscape with modern wood homes with massive windows to take advantage of the view. Businesses sprouted up, a realty office in an A-frame cottage, antiques in an old barn. The quaint little town on the west shore proved easy to find. The first view, as she turned on to Front Street, revealed a scene right out of a movie set, turn-of-the-century style. It had been a long time since she’d been here with Grandma Maggie. Her memory wandered to the tall chocolate sodas they used to get at the corner ice cream place. She hoped it was still there. It was somewhere on a back street, if she remembered correctly. Lily passed a hand-carved wood sign with bright letters, Island Thyme Café & Bakery. A large picture window