reports always come back good, as does the rest of my blood work, so I just smile and go on doing what I’m doing.” They both laughed.
After dinner, Maggie returned to their table with an evil smile on her face.
“Okay, you mentioned it earlier; do you have room for one of Mario’s Molten Mountains?” Heather groaned but Sarah said, “Yes, bring it on, with two plates and forks.”
“You got it!” Maggie headed off to the kitchen.
“You may need to eat more than your share.” Heather insisted.
“You say that now, but wait until you get your first taste.”
Maggie returned with a large plate. On the plate was a huge cake about the size of four big top breakfast muffins. It was such a dark brown that it was almost black. Across the bottom of the plate were scoops of French vanilla ice cream drizzled with what could only be melted dark chocolate.
As Maggie placed the plate between them, Heather almost moaned because of the rich chocolate smell that rolled across the table. Grinning, Maggie left them with two clean plates and forks and wished them, “Bon appetite.”
Heather thought she might slip into a chocolate coma but was sure if she did she would die happy. Sarah looked as if she was feeling the same way.
Still grinning, Maggie placed before them a couple of cups of coffee. “After that I figured you could both use some coffee, I’m sorry it’s not as good as Jennifer’s but it will do the job. So Heather, ready to move to town?” Heather just groaned, making Sarah and Maggie laugh.
“I met Jennifer and Betty earlier today,” Heather replied.
“Then between Jennifer’s coffee and the Mountain you have sampled the best fare Crescent Bay has to offer. Should we start recommending houses to buy?”
“Tempting,” Heather laughed. “We’ll see after I come out of this chocolate coma.”
“Well take your time and enjoy your coffee.”
Later, Heather and Sarah strolled back toward the B&B. The air was moist and carried with it the sound of crashing waves.
Sarah stopped walking and turned to Heather, “I’m still pretty stuffed. I think I’ll walk down to the water, want to join me?”
“That sounds lovely, let’s go.”
Heather and Sarah walked down a side street and Heather admired the homes they were passing. The neighborhood included both beautiful and quirky homes and Heather marveled at how different this neighborhood was from the planned community she lived in.
Her neighborhood was under the control of a homeowners association and anything you did to your home had to meet with strict regulations. You couldn’t even plant a tree without making sure it was on the approved list.
It was obvious to Heather that the residents of Crescent Bay were individualists and yet accepting of others, but looks were often deceiving.
“These are some interesting houses,” she said, “I take it there are no CC & Rs.”
“What’s that?”
“Covenants, Conditions and Restrictions. Basically a list of things you can, and cannot, do to your property.”
“Oh god no! No one would dare tell anyone else what he or she could do with their home, although that does drive some folks crazy. You have the traditionalists who want everything to look like the cliché fishing village, and then you have the free thinkers who want to express their artistic natures. Considering what you’re wearing you can probably figure out which side of the fence I land on.”
“But your home is so traditional.”
“Yep, that’s a business decision. But,” Sarah stopped walking and threw her arms wide “to give my artistic soul expression I tie-dye.”
Heather chuckled and held out her new shirt. “And I’m damn lucky you do, I love this top.”
Sarah took a bow and said, “My artistic soul thanks you.” Grinning they continued toward the beach.
The moon hung in the sky casting the earth below in a beautiful silvery glow. The peaks of the waves glistened as they sped toward the beach, crashing onto the shore to end in a dance of foam. Further out beyond the waves floated a white curtain of fluffy fog. This close to the water it was almost impossible to carry on a quiet conversation, so Heather and Sarah stood quietly, absorbing the magic of the night.
The waves continued to crash as the fog came closer and closer to the shore. Heather had often heard people say that fog rolled in, but this fog seemed to be creeping. Little tendrils of white, that reminded Heather of thin claws, began to reach the shore. It brought with it an intense smell of the sea that spoke more of the deep mysterious ocean than the friendly seashore. The fog made her nervous and she glanced up toward the old lighthouse.
From this angle, she could see the roof of a little cottage that shared the cliff with the lighthouse. Standing on a balcony at the top of the house was a woman. At least Heather thought it was a woman because the figure wore a dress that billowed and whipped around her in a wind that Heather could not feel.
Heather turned to Sarah and said. “I didn’t know anyone lived at the lighthouse.”
“What?” Shouting closer to Sarah’s ear Heather pointed toward the little house and said, “I didn’t know someone lived at the lighthouse.”
Sarah looked up at the lighthouse and shook her head. “No one does. It’s been abandoned forever.”
“Then who is that?” Heather said pointing toward the woman standing at the top of the house.
“I don’t see anyone. What do you see?”
“A woman in a dress.”
“Ah come on, you’re pulling my leg.”
Heather was confused by Sarah’s reaction. “No I’m not. Why would I do that?”
“Come on,” Sarah said and walked quickly back away from the beach. Heather didn’t know what had just happened but obviously, Sarah was pissed about something.
Sarah didn’t say anything more until they had walked a couple of blocks away from the beach. Then she spun around and with a skeptical voice asked Heather, “You saw a woman up on the widow’s walk?”
Confused Heather shrugged and said, “I saw a woman standing at the top of that little cottage next to the lighthouse. She was wearing a long dress that was billowing all around her.”
“Please tell me you’re pulling my leg.”
“No I’m not. Please Sarah tell me what’s wrong.”
“Dammit! I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never seen her. You aren’t even here two days and you see her. That is so unfair!” Uncertain what to say, Heather just watched Sarah who had begun to pace back and forth.
“Maggie put you up to this.”
“No, I don’t even know what ‘this’ is.”
“The ghost! You saw our ghost!”
“What?”
“You saw our resident ghost.”
“I saw a ghost…” Heather responded in disbelief, she was sure that Sarah was mistaken.
The fog had caught up with them, and was billowing around their legs, as it moved into the village.
Sarah shivered a little and said, “Let’s talk about this where it’s a little warmer and a lot less creepy.” Heather agreed and they walked back to the B&B.
Sitting in Sarah’s warm cheery kitchen over a mug of cocoa, Heather began to question what she had seen. That little cottage was pretty far above the beach. Maybe it was just a shadow cast from something in the lighthouse.
Sarah broke Heather’s train of thought, “Okay, so let’s talk about what you saw.”
“I glanced up toward the lighthouse and saw someone on the walkway above the little cottage next to it.”
“You looked at the light keeper’s cottage and saw someone on the widow’s walk.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Why is it called the widow’s walk?”
“It’s kind of sad, but when a sailor was out at sea his wife would stand at the top of their home looking for her husband’s ship. Unfortunately sailing was a dangerous profession and many of their husbands never made it home, thus, a widow’s walk.”
“That’s
depressing.”
“Yeah, but it was a fact of life. Now it’s more of a quaint architectural feature than anything else. If you walk through the village you’ll see them on a lot of the homes.”
“Okay, so I saw what I thought was a woman standing on the widow’s walk. But you said that place is abandoned, so it was probably just a shadow or something stupid like that.”
“Oh no you don’t. Don’t start second guessing yourself.” Standing up Sarah beckoned Heather to follow. “Come on,” Sarah lead Heather into the living room and over to the fireplace.
Gesturing to the picture, Sarah said, “Meet our resident ghost.”
Looking closer at the painting Heather studied the figure standing at the top of the lighthouse.
“Okay. But the person I saw was at the top of the light keeper’s cottage, not the lighthouse. It was probably an urban explorer who broke in to check out the building.”
“Nope, she has been seen at the top of the lighthouse and on the widow’s walk at the light keeper’s cottage. Although those who have seen her at the top of the lighthouse say that she leaps off and disappears.”
“Oh my god, how horrible! Glad I missed that. So what’s the story, who is she supposed to be?”
“No one knows but I’ve lived here all my life and I’ve never seen her. I’ve got to tell you that I’m pretty pissed that you did.”
“Sorry,” Heather shrugged.
“Oh, I’ll be okay. It’s just frustrating because without our resident ghost I wouldn’t be here.”
“Now that is a story I want to hear.”
“Okay, but I think it would go better with chocolate. Let’s go back to our cocoa.”
Back in the kitchen,