Finding Abigail (21 page)

When my
sandwich arrived, I ate quickly, worried that Nick was on the road looking for
me. Even though I had a different car I just wanted to get to the cottage and
settle in so I could stop thinking that every cop car that passed me was going
to pull me over.

Back on the
road, the GPS lady informed me that it would take two more hours to get to Shimmer Lake. I had never even heard of the town before so I guessed it must be small. But
that was a good thing. If
I
hadn’t heard of it, then Nick probably
wouldn’t think to look there.

As I drove,
civilization seemed to slip away as farmlands and rural towns started to take
over. It was odd; I had always been a city girl, but as the scenery changed to
trees and open fields, I felt more at peace. Like nothing could hurt me in a
place this beautiful and tranquil.

My first
glimpse of Shimmer Lake was a swamp, cattails, weeds, and I’m guessing frogs.
Not pretty, but once you got past the swamp, the town was cute and very small.
It was basically a road. There were two restaurants, a diner, a pizza place,
hardware, and grocery store on one side of the street. The other held a bank, a
dollar store, a gas station, a church, and an elementary school. The buildings
were not cramped all together, they were stretched along the highway, but that
was all I could see. There were side streets branching off the main road;
however, I was not about to explore. I wanted to get to my destination and I
was afraid that if I went sightseeing, I’d get lost, prolonging my journey even
further.

It wasn’t until
I drove past the businesses and was heading out of Shimmer Lake that I saw the sign for Bayview Road. I turned onto it, excited about nearly reaching my
destination. The closer I got, the more I felt a peace. It had been awhile
since I felt that way; never worrying if I would be hit in the face because I
didn’t wash Nick’s uniform or kicked in the gut when I forgot to give him a
message from work. I had only known him a year and was abused for four of those
months, but it was hard to remember a time when I wasn’t miserable. The thrill
of being alone and safe was overwhelming. I stepped on the gas, eager to get to
my paradise.

When I pulled
up to the cottage I was pleasantly surprised; it was so Sylvia. The one-story
stone cottage was nestled under a large willow, its branches hanging almost to
the roof as if protecting the cottage and its contents from the outside world.
The only close neighbor was a cottage to the right. It was also one level, but
this one had white siding and a wraparound porch. There were no cars in the
driveway, which hopefully meant it was just used for the summer. I could use
some privacy for a few months until I got settled into my new life.

I parked in the
driveway next to the side door. Getting out of the car, I let myself in. Inside
was just as cozy as the outside. It was one big large room, only a counter
island separating the kitchen and living room. The kitchen must have been
renovated recently. The appliances and cherry cabinets were still shining and I
couldn’t see any scratches on the marble counter tops. The living room was
situated around a stone fireplace, with a comfy-looking gray sofa with matching
chairs. A charming woven rug lay in the center on the wood floor. There were
three bedrooms and a small bathroom. I was so grateful to Sylvia for lending me
her cottage. I only wished there was a way I could thank her, but I knew
contacting her would be a mistake.

The only thing
in the cottage that wasn’t perfect was the smell. It must have been closed up
for a while, because it stunk terribly of must. As I wandered through each room
opening windows, reality set in, I was FREE! With a new hope for my future I
went out to the car to get my belongings and unpack.

A few hours
later I was setting up my office in one of the spare rooms. There was a desk
under the window that I placed my new laptop on. I had purchased it a few weeks
ago and hid it in my car. The breeze blew in through the open window, along
with the sound of the waves washing up against the shore. The view was
beautiful; from this angle I could see the dock, the water, and a cottage
across the lake. I could picture myself sitting here writing and looking out
the window. I hadn’t written in months, but I already felt inspired.

When everything
was unpacked and it felt like home, I realized it was past dinner, and I was
starving. This was the perfect time to check out the grocery store.

The store was
called Butler Foods. It was small, not nearly as big as I was used to, but that
didn’t matter. I’d be buying mostly packaged food anyway, since it’s not like I
cooked. I took my time wandering around the store, enjoying the small-town
feel. I noticed that the people here seemed to visit with each other more than
actually shopping.

I was standing
in the produce department picking up some grapes when I overheard a
conversation coming from beside me. Two women stood near the strawberries.
“Well, I heard he went to his ex’s wedding. Can you believe that?” She had
short brown hair and was wearing jeans and a cute suede jacket.

The other
woman’s platinum hair was teased a little too high to be fashionable. She
leaned in closer to her friend as if she had a secret. “Well, I don’t know why
he doesn’t move on already. There are plenty of girls around here that would
take him in an instant, myself included.” I felt like I was intruding in on the
conversation so I moved over to the lettuce, hoping that I could still hear but
not look obvious doing it. I wasn’t used to small towns and wanted to learn as
much as I could.

“Ignore those
gossip mongers, not everyone in town is like that.”

The voice came
from behind me. I turned around to see a woman with flaming red hair that fell
to her shoulders, green eyes, and a warm smile. Her cart was heaping with juice
boxes, snack cakes, and cookies. She must have kids waiting at home.

I glanced
around, making sure she was actually speaking to me. No one was there. “Like
what?” I asked.

She reached
beside me and picked up a cucumber. “Busybodies. Of course there are a few, but
most of us mind our own. Are you visiting someone or are you new in town?”

I moved to the
side to get out of her way. “Oh, I’m renting a cottage for a few months, to see
if I like it, then I may make my stay permanent. I’m looking to relocate.”

She leaned
against the potato display. “Oh yeah? From where?”

The girls that
I had been listening to started toward us. The blond girl scowled at my
companion as they walked passed us. “Chicago,” I lied.

“Wow, this is
sure a change. Where are you staying?” She noticed the girl and smiled
mischievously. And when the girls were gone, and we could only see their backs,
she stuck her tongue at the blond. It was obvious that there was no love
between the two.

I raised a brow
at her in question, but she didn’t acknowledge what had just happened. “Twenty twelve Bayview Road,” I answered, not sure what to say.

With the girls
forgotten, she leaned forward on her cart. “The one on the corner, beside the
white house?”

“Yes.”

“That’s Sylvia
Newman’s cottage, do you know her?”

“No. I found
her on the Internet, she rented me the cottage.” I was making it up as I went.
I hadn’t planned what to say, but I knew it was best not to tie myself to
Sylvia. I wanted to keep her safe so distancing me from her felt like the best
way.

She glanced at
her watch. “Well, I should be getting home. The name’s Kathy by the way.”

“Ab-Anna. Nice
to meet you.” I reached out to shake her hand.

She raised her
brow suspiciously. “Abanna?”

I took a deep
breath. “It’s Anna.” She must know I was lying. I wasn’t good at it and I was
sure she was about to call me on it.

To my surprise,
she grinned, lighting her already bright green eyes. “It’s very nice to meet
you, Anna. We don’t get many new faces around here.” She waved as she pushed
her cart up to the cashier. “See you around,” she called over her shoulder.

Back at the
cottage I made myself a grilled cheese and a tossed salad. I spent the night
looking at the photos on the wall. They were of Sylvia and her husband when
they were younger. There were pictures of what looked like them building the
cottage. Then later with their four children and so many grandchildren I
couldn’t count, although I thought I remembered that she once told me she had
fourteen.

The air was a
little chilly so I stayed inside with a glass of wine gazing out at the view from
the large bay window. A part of me felt relaxed, and I was thankful for it, but
there was some anxiety deep inside, thinking about Nick getting off work and
going home to find me gone. Would I be awoken in the night with him standing
over me? I knew this feeling was ridiculous. I had covered my tracks well, but
I couldn’t quiet the feeling of fear that my newfound freedom was at risk.

The Neighbor

During my first
week, I stayed close to home. I was enjoying my freedom, but I couldn’t help
take precautions around the cottage. Nick was forever in the back of my mind, a
constant reminder that I was never safe. Once the musty air was gone, I closed
and locked the windows and doors. And if I went outside, lounging in the yard,
I found myself glancing around, making sure I was truly alone.

Despite my
paranoia, I tried to be happy in my new life. I explored the cottage and on
warm days I ventured outside. On the second day in my new home
,
I actually barbequed a chicken. Living in an apartment in the city,
barbequing was practically unheard of. And despite my lack of experience, I
didn’t do too bad of a job. The skin was a little burnt, but the meat inside
was juicy and tender.

One morning, I
found myself wandering down the shoreline, looking at all the houses that lined
the lake. I carried my sandals and walked barefoot, letting the warm sand sift
through my toes. I counted five empty cottages, besides the white one next to
mine.

It wasn’t until
I walked about a mile and a half that I saw any signs of life on this side of
the lake. A large house sat up on a hill. The sounds of a child’s laughter and
a dog barking floated out of the windows and down to the beach to where I
stood. My heart ached. The sounds reminded me of what I had left behind and I
almost kept moving toward it, but
I turned
around and started back instead, not ready to introduce myself. I wanted to
keep a distance from the townsfolk, just in case Nick found me. I couldn’t help
the feeling that anyone I had contact with was also in danger.

It wasn’t until
my fifth day that I started to relax. If he hadn’t found me yet, odds were, I
was safe—for now. I couldn’t fool myself and think that he would give up
looking, but I knew I had to loosen up and try to get back some of my life, and
that meant I needed to start working again. I had put it off for so long, I
thought it would be difficult to get back into the flow of writing. But as soon
as I opened the file to
Sammy’s Big Adventure
, I was sucked back in. I
sat in front of the open window with the breeze gently blowing in. I could feel
the fresh air on my cheeks as the words poured out. I was there for three
straight hours before I took a break to eat. And when I stopped for the day, I
couldn’t wait to start again tomorrow.

Saturday
evening, exactly a week after I arrived, I was restless and bored. I tried to
write, but nothing would come out. Watching TV wasn’t working, and the book I
was reading did not hold my interest. I read the same sentence three times
before I put it down and went outside.

I strolled down
to the dock and stood quietly watching the lake. It was so peaceful. I became
mesmerized by the glowing orange reflection the sun cast upon the water as it
set for the day. My chest ached at the thought of another day without my
family, I hadn’t seen them in a week and I felt so lonely. Would Justin look
different the next time I saw him? Would he have grown, would I recognize him?
Would I miss Haley’s first day of school? Not that I saw my family that often
when I lived near them, but the option was there. I hated Nick even more for
taking them away from me.

I sat down so I
could listen to the noises of the lake. It was so quiet here. The bubbling
sounds the fish made when they came to the surface to eat the bugs floating on
the water echoed through the quiet. I heard faint laughter from a cottage in
the distance as people went for an evening swim. The weather had been warm the
last few days, but I didn’t think it was sufficient enough to heat the water
for a swim. The hum of a motorboat was the latest sound I heard. I could just
make out a white fisherman’s hat in a boat across the lake.

The wooden
planks of the dock below me were not the most comfortable place to sit, but
since it was my only option, I made do. I made a mental note to make a trip to
the hardware store to buy a lawn chair so I could sit out here every night and
enjoy the view and listen to the sounds. It was so calming. I realized that I
was no longer restless.