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Lost and Found
The distant rumble of an ATV making its way up the secluded trail silenced the katydid’s song of brutal heat. How could anyone possible find me? I was thoroughly annoyed at the intrusion. The purpose of coming to ‘Pine Mountain Lodge’ was a last-ditch effort to sort out my feelings. My twenty-year marriage had gone off track like a violent train wreck. Struggling to work through the question of “How could this have happened to us?” was systematically being replaced with plans of escape.
Needing to ground myself I wanted to go where we hadn’t gone in over a year, Pine Mountain Lodge. It was a secluded, small lodge located in the Green Mountains of Vermont complete with barns, riding stables and miles of trails to explore. Crisp hikes up the stream for spring trout fishing, horse trails through the pines, a vigorous seven mile hike up to Silver Lake, fields for snow shoeing, playing in mind blowing colors of leaves during the fall, fresh maple syrup on ice cream or hot pancakes, we were never at a loss for something to do or to explore. The Lodge was more than just our favorite year-round destination for fun. It was a place I often sought refuge at during challenging life events over the years. I regularly slip into the barn to pet the horses. They unfailingly know when you needed someone to hug and talk to without judgement. Riding through the fragrant pines provided an inevitably therapeutic rhythm of hoof steps and creaking leather, hypnotizing me into deep meditation.
As the trespasser guided the noisy machine up the trail I could not help but notice his toned muscles flexing on massive arms spattered with tattoos. His Pine Mountain Lodge t-shirt hugged his tan muscular body.
“Are you OK?” my unwelcomed visitor asked.
His dark green eyes seemed to penetrate straight into my soul, adding to the awkwardness of the situation. I felt like a nervous school girl, darting my tear swollen eyes towards the ground.
“I’m fine” I lied.
“Dinner will be ready in about two hours. Can I give you a lift back?
“No thank you” I bristled. The urge to scream ‘Mind your own business just leave me alone!’ was difficult to suppress.
While following the trail back to the lodge self-pity once again dominated my emotions. The intruder acted so unlike my husband who seemed to be perpetually covered in construction dust from a miserable job that kept him away from home most of the time. Always exhausted and crabby he silently ignores my desperate need to companionship. My job is no better I admitted to myself. As a busy Realtor my phone never stopped ringing. Most of my nights and weekends are spent showing houses, trying to please needy clients with unrealistic demands.
“All we do is work. We never have any fun anymore” I complained. The perpetual work load of an unsatisfying job, financial pressures and constant loneliness left me with nothing more to give. I was done.
I wanted more, much more. I wanted what we had lost to constant distractions, commuting, hard work, responsibilities and deadlines. I wanted what was gone. The simple freedom of feeling carefree, the uncontrollable laughter at something stupid, the innocent fun of dancing around like idiots while singing out loud to our favorite songs, the long hot hikes up the mountain to our hidden cove at the lake to go skinny dipping in the middle of the day. I wanted the lost passion of us just being us together. I wanted to find the fire we once had.
He sat directly across the table from me at dinner. Smiling cautiously, never taking his eyes off me. When I could no longer avoid his unrelenting stare, our eyes locked. His gaze inebriated my mind, physically capturing me. I was unable to turn away. Endorphins flooded my brain with sensations of passion, blocking out the dinner introductions and forced conversations. His foot found mine under the table. It was like an electrical shock, making me drop my fork loudly onto my untouched plate. Overwhelmed with confusion I excused myself from dinner.
As I hurried my way up a starlit path to the barn footsteps echoed on the gravel behind me. My relentless pursuer once again instinctively found me. He gently reached out, summonsing me closer. My heart pounded lustful desire through the core of my body. Thoughts of “What am I doing?’ were forced out of my head by his rock-solid body pinning me against the now closed barn door. As he kissed my neck, I became weak with surrender. The taste of salty skin smothered the voice of reason, crushing the pain of loneliness. My conscience was powerless to resist the unbuttoning of my dress as we lay in the sweltering hay loft. The sweet smell of fresh hay filled the air as he pushed his way into my life. He knew my every desire, silently quenching my desperate thirst for passion without any regards for time or space.
A gentle knock on my door awoke me for breakfast. As I opened my eyes, I felt a feeling of peace that can only be reached when your total being, your soul, has been cleansed of the deepest darkest toxins of unhappiness. The euphoric feeling of finding a lost treasure was undeniable. The happiness of sunshine on my face, the giddy joy of an unexpected gift. Old and new mischievous thoughts emerged in my mind. The allure of a fresh beginning, the excitement of what lies ahead, the hope of new possibilities, the prospects of a different future path, a strong pull towards the lightness of happiness, the magic of intimacy with someone special filled my being. My heart spoke; this was my path. Unsure of this surprising, yet familiar feeling, I questioned the thought. Was this whole thing a crazy dream? I sat up in bed to look at my reflection in the antique mirror on the wall. Bits of hay were entangled in my ruffled curls. Smiling with bliss, my mind relived last night. The sound of the shower turning off jerked my mind back to reality. My tall muscular lover emerged dripping wet from the shower. Jumping on the bed like a happy child, he teasingly shook his wet head like a dog, spritzing me with water before stealing good morning kiss.
“Liz, I love you. Come on, we can do this. What do you say to another 20 years?”
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The first time I read this through, I was going to leave a comment about you needing to replace the pronoun at the start of the paragraph beginning ‘He sat opposite me…’ because using ‘He’ made it sound as if you were still talking about the narrator’s husband but the content of the paragraph suggested it was the Pine Mountain Lodge employee she’d seen on the ATV at the start of the story. I was actually getting quite concerned about the mess she was getting into by having a fling with a stranger - until I reached the final sentences and realised she and her husband had managed to recapture the passion she’d been yearning for. (Well done on a plot twist I didn’t see coming.)
I think it may need a few tweaks here and there for consistency or clarity e.g. your narrator being woken by ‘a gentle knock on the door’ for breakfast which would suggest that her lover is outside the door, bringing breakfast to her, and her husband/lover being in the shower - maybe have her being woken by birdsong outside (to cement the feeling of being out in nature) or ‘the distant rumble’ of some kind of vehicle to echo the story’s beginning.
All in all, though, this was an enjoyable story that captures the longing so many of us experience when we feel a lengthy marriage has become stale and predictable. I’m pleased there was a happy ending for your narrator.
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