Those Tangerine Hills - Evelyn J. Steward (small books to read .txt) 📗

Chapter One
Those Tangerine Hills

Laura picked up her cup of coffee and walked over to the large window that looked out over the lake. At seven a.m. on a Fall morning, it was calm. No wind to ruffle its glass-like surface that gleamed like silver in the grey light just a little after dawn. A couple of tiny boats motored down to the other end of the finger of water towards the town, their wakes drawing fine white lines across the surface of the lake.
The house was quite cool, She felt the cold more these days. Forty two was not old. She kept telling herself that. But she felt old. Old and frumpy. These days the town was full of young people who were into fashion. She raised one hand and brushed back the curling shoulder length brown hair and wondered if she needed it cut? Her figure was more rounded now. Not seriously overweight but comfortable, as Peter would have said. No, she thought, don’t think of Peter!
She stood in front of the window, gazing at the panorama. The house was built on a rise and beyond the decking, the lawn sloped away down to the water’s edge, a few stunted bushes determining the end of the property and the pathway belonging to the Municipal Roadways where the lake waters washed the tiny sandy beach. It wasn’t sand of course, but crystalline pieces of shale and stone, the lake had, over millennia, worn to tiny particles that gave the appearance of sand.
Three tall birch trees stood like sentinels just this side of the bushes. Their white bark standing out against the grey of the water. One was on its last legs. A large branch had fallen off the centre tree last year and lay rotting in amongst the tall grasses. Laura wondered how long the rest of the gtree would stand, or should she get someone e to chop it down? Another of the million things she had to think about living back here in the country.
The pathway, further along to the right, led to the historical old Fort, rebuilt some years ago to preserve the area’s heritage. Visitors came to view the place, (this was a vacation area after all) bringing in dollars to be spent in town and at the historical sites in the general area. Even the Pope visited a church a few miles to the north back in the 1980s.
Across the waters, on the far side of the lake, the roadway mirrored this side. The waters had bled into the valley way back in time. A natural sinkhole, like a bubble, from the great lake called Georgian Bay which in itself was a large bubble off Lake Huron.
Laura sighed. Sleep had eluded her and now, waiting, her coffee growing cool, she felt a lassitude creeping over her. It was as if she gave herself up to some unknown quantity, hoping for a rebirth. Then it came, so subtly that she almost missed it. The first rays of sunshine hitting the tops of the trees on the top of the slope across the lake.
Like gold at first, glinting, blinding the eyes almost, a whole swathe of the brightest colour right down the Sound. As the minutes rolled by, Laura became engrossed at the sight. It only happened in the Fall and only when the sun’s angle was right. It was like a miracle of light. The deciduous trees, in their Fall colours of yellow, red, bronze mixed in with the dark green conifers, touched by the sun, became a glowing tangerine swathe of colour. As the sun rose, the light dropped slowly down the hillside until it reached the road and the whole hillside was emblazoned with this tangerine shade of orange. Once the light hit the water, it changed to a normal sunlight shade and the phenomenon vanished like a surreal dream..
Laura breathed deeply drawing that scene into her mind, her body as if it were some kind of deeply needed food to sustain her. But her reverie was soon broken. A noise that came from behind brought her back to herself.
“Coffee,” the voice barked.
“Yes Dad,” Laura replied and moved towards the kitchen. “Are you O.K.?” she asked, praying that he was.
“I’m fine,” he lied. But then, he always did. In her heart, she knew what was wrong.
Frank walked slowly to his chair and sank into it. Was it today he was due to visit the hospital, he wanted to know? Laura would tell him. Meanwhile, a coffee would see him right. Staring across the room and out of the window he could make out the trucks and cars way across the other side of the lake, making their way into town. They were like toys from this distance. Busy people with busy lives. He had been busy, once!
“Laura! You gonna be all day with that coffee?” he shouted. She could never hear him back in the kitchen. Suddenly he was struck with a coughing fit. His chest hurt. His throat constricted. Damn the girl! “Laura”, he yelled louder.
Laura pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders and with a resigned look on her face, she took the cup of coffee in to her father. She surreptitiously glanced at his face. It was pale and he looked tired. The coughing fits did not help. He was always weaker after he’d had one. This morning was no different. Perhaps the doctor would tell her more today.
“Sorry Pa. Here’s your coffee.” she said.
“Hm!” he barely replied as his breathing returned to normal.
“Breakfast?” She asked.
“Not hungry.”
“You have to eat. They said so.” Laura did not wait for the reply she knew would come. She went back to the kitchen and started some scrambled eggs It was light and his stomach should be able to take it. She added two strips of bacon to hers. The aromas of coffee and cooking bacon filled the kitchen and bled into the lounge as she carried both plates into the room where her father sat, coffee in hand.
She brought out his special table and set the food on it. She gave him the fork and left him to it. Placing her plate on the large table, she sat and began to eat her breakfast. She ate with a grace she didn’t feel. A leftover from her younger days. It was just before 8 a.m. and there was plenty to do before she drove Frank to the hospital for his 10.30 a.m. appointment. It was going to be a nice day, which was good. Easier to get her Pa sorted out in good weather.
Laura was washing up the breakfast things when she heard the knock. They seldom got visitors at this time of day. She was surprised as none of the neighbours knocked that early. Come to think of it, they rarely knocked at all. Often just calling out her name or Frank’s. Wiping her hands, she walked to the front door.
“Hi,” he said. “Can you tell me where Beach Road is. I’m lost and I have a job to do there today.”
For a moment Laura could not open her mouth other than to gawp at this handsome man in dungarees. He had twinkling blue eyes that seemed at odds with his ruffled curly dark brown hair.
She abstractedly wiped her hands down her sides suddenly feeling the extra flesh that had accumulated on her hips. She became flustered and her face began to redden. Finally she found her voice.
“I….I’m sorry. What did you say?” Her breathing was tight. Her heart seemed to flutter. Silly! She was too old to feel this way over a stranger.
“Beach Road? I cannot find it. My Sat/Nav is out. Can you help me?” His voice whilst being deep and rich, was also mellow, smooth, inviting.
Laura mentally shook herself. “I’m sorry, of course.” She proceeded to give the stranger directions. All the while looking intently at his slender but solid physique. He seemed to be looking back at her in a way that wasn’t how any other stranger would see her. He was making contact in a way that entranced her soul.
She broke out of her reverie as he was walking down the steps back to his Ute. He was, if she had to guess, maybe a little older than her but not by much. The way he moved, like a large cat. Smooth movements, slinky. Stupid, she thought, how could a man be slinky? The Ute moved off and she could see his face in the mirror, watching her and she shivered, a delicious kind of feeling.
Then reality struck. What was she doing? She was acting like she was twenty years old again. Back in the house Laura busied herself with tasks still to be performed and then it was close to 10 a.m.
“Pa! Time to go.” Laura called but when she entered the lounge, here father sat immobile.
“Not going!” he stated.
“Of course you must go,” she chivvied. “They’re going to do some tests, I think. You want to know if there is some treatment you can have, don’t you?”
“I’m dying girl. Don’t you know that?” he said in a quiet voice.
“What makes you say that?> Look Pa, we don’t know what’s wrong with you. Neither you nor I are doctors so we can’t say why you are feeling bad. Only way to find out is to have these checkups at the hospital. Now come along.” Laura dismissed his dismal attitude. Yes, he could be very seriously ill. Cancer! But then again, as she told her Pa, she wasn’t a doctor.
Laura was adamant. She helped Frank down the steps and into the car. He complained. But at least to moved.
It was still cool on the shadowed side of the house but once around the driveway and up to the road proper, the sun hit the windscreen and fed warmth into the inside of the vehicle.
The drive into town took fifteen minutes. The colours on the trees never ceased to amaze her but she could not let herself get caught up with them again, not even for the trees that had pink leaves. Often wondering what that type of tree was called, she passed it by daring not to look too closely. They gave her a delicious feeling of peace and contentment, a lassitude she could not afford right now.
The hospital was a low rise two storey building. Fairly modern in looks, built in red brick with metal and glass doors. Laura quickly parked the car. Giving a hand to her father, they made