I began this story on: Wednesday, January 25, 2012, 11:19 AM


Rooms at the Inn ~ Marianne and LeWain
By Ora Lea Harrison



      Finally speaking, Marianne said, “LeWain, you do realize that we’ve only just met?   Are you talking about our being married in the near future?”
      LeWain turned to her with a look of admiration on his face.   “Oh, yes, that would be perfect, don’t you think?”
      Softly laughing, Marianne said,   “I’m afraid I’m a little more conservative than that.   You‘re a special person but I‘d have to at least sleep on it before coming to that particular conclusion.”
      “You have all the time in the world,”   LeWain answered.   “I’m not about to pressure you into something that you’re not ready for.”
      Taking her hand, he led her back inside the Inn and said,   “Thank you so much for meeting me, you’ll never know what it meant to me.”
      Taking the stairs to the second floor, she went to her door and he continued to the third floor where his apartment was.
      Going into her room, Marianne saw that it was midnight.
      Is he really Mr. Right?   she wondered.

      The following morning, Marianne awoke with an ’all is well with my world’ feeling.  
      Dressing quickly, she went downstairs, only to find LeWain on duty at the front desk. Walking over to him, they exchanged pleasantries and she went into the dining room.   After getting her breakfast from the buffet, she sat at the table they had shared the night before.
        Lulu was sitting with Charlotte, Roland and a man she assumed was LeWain’s son, Dwayne.   Looking in her direction, Lulu smiled and pointed her out to her parents.
      As she ate, Marianne weighed her options for how she should spend her day.   As a rule, she usually just let the chips fall where they may but being here at such a special place, she was undecided.   In spite of LeWain’s speech the night before, the reality was that she may never see this place or him again and she wanted to make the most of her time off from work.
     
      Finishing her breakfast, she noticed a side door from the dining room that went to a garden and left out that way.   Following the pathway, she walked with no particular destination in mind but enjoyed the early morning.
      She had her cloth carryall with her writing pad and pen on her shoulder in case inspiration hit.
      She could see the riding stables a short distance from the house and the people already congregated gave her a hint that horseback riding was a favorite pastime with the guests.   Toying with the notion of riding, herself, she opted not to but instead, continued her walk.   She hadn’t ridden before and wasn’t in the mood to begin just now.
      Seeing water further down the path , she went in that direction, glad that she had worn her casual clothes and sturdy, walking shoes.
      A picturesque scene was before her, several boats were tied up to the bank of the creek, a dock with chairs for fishing from and a tire swing that one could fly out over the water if they so desired.
      An older couple was already there fishing.   She had noticed that most of the guests were coupled, some with kids.   She was used to being by herself since Gary’s passing ten years ago but still, she felt like she wasn’t socially correct and stayed away from couple things as a general rule.   Being with a girlfriend was okay but she hadn’t shared her trip with anyone, this had been a different type of trip, she’d felt that from the beginning.
      She spoke with the couple but walked down the dock, giving them their privacy.   As she was taking in the end of the Summer view, a small cottage caught her eye.   She wondered if someone lived there and left the dock to walk towards it.
      The cottage was set upon a hill a little ways from the water and she climbed the steps to reach it.   There was an old fence surrounding it with well tended gardens inside.
      Going inside the yard, she went up to the house and knocked on the door, why, she didn’t know.   She had the feeling that if she tried the door knob, it would turn but she didn’t.   The white Cape Cod curtains framing picture windows were opened and inside, she could see a neat bedroom and living room, dining room.   It was like a honey moon cottage, she thought.
      No one answered her knock so she stepped down from the porch and walked around the cottage.   It was odd but she felt that there was a purpose in her being here.   She wanted to find out what it was.
      The cottage was old, to be sure, but had obviously been cared for.   She wanted to find out what she could about the house and wondered if it was in the books about the Crawford’s that she had looked at the afternoon before.  
      It was peculiar but she didn’t feel frightened about being at this house alone.   In fact, she felt that she was at home here,   it was like she’d been here before and decided that she’d been at similar places when she was a child.   Maybe her parents had family that had lived like this.   She remembered happy times at older relatives homes in the country when she was small.
      Going back towards the pathway, she walked quickly towards the Inn.   She wanted to see if she could find out about the house as soon as possible.
      Going in the front door, this time, she found Charlotte at the front desk and asked her if she knew where she could find LeWain.
      “I believe he went up to his apartment, he was asking about you,”   Charlotte informed her.   “Would you like for me to phone him for you?”
      Marianne was delighted that LeWain had asked for her and nodded to Charlotte.
      She could hear LeWain’s voice on the other end of the receiver, asking Charlotte to tell her to go up to his apartment.
      Usually reserved about going into relative strange men’s homes, alone, Marianne didn’t feel that it would be anything wrong with going into LeWain’s apartment.   Maybe it was the being so far from her own home, she thought.
      Thanking Charlotte, she took the elevator and for the second time within the hour, knocked on a strange door.
      At LeWain’s invitation, she went into his apartment on the third floor of the old Victorian mansion.
      She was a little surprised of her surroundings, LeWain was apparently a very neat person with good taste, she thought.   She had expected a cluttered place that smelled of socks and other man things.
      The rooms were gabled and not very large but comfortable enough with a very nice view of the grounds all around the Inn.
      LeWain was a little bashful of her actually being in his home and asked her to have a seat on the small couch.
      “Would you mind if I look around a little first?”   she asked.
      “Not at all, would you like refreshment?   I’m steeping tea or you may prefer coffee or a soft drink?”
      “I don’t want to put you to any trouble, tea’s fine, if there’s enough.”   she answered.
      “There’s plenty, I was hoping that you’d come.   I don’t get too many visitors up here.   I’ve been thinking about ways that I could help you with your writings.”   He went to a table that had a computer, scattered papers and books on it and picked up a paper that he’d been working on.   “Mostly, I believe you need encouragement and time.   I have a place in mind where you could stay for as long as you like, if you take a leave from your job, that is.”
      Pleased that LeWain was actually making plans for her, she took note of tea things already laid out for two and Marianne asked if she could pour.   She usually had iced tea but decided to try it his way since the delicate cups were already out.   How sweet, she thought.
      Pausing, LeWain smiled, saying that he’d like that, he wasn ‘t waited on too often in his own apartment.   Sitting on the couch next to Marianne while she worked from the little table in front of them, the paper in his hand forgotten, he reached for the little cup that she held out to him.
      “LeWain, before you start that, I want to ask you about something that I found on my walk this morning, okay?”
      LeWain looked at her expectantly, laying the paper on the coffee table.
      “I went to the creek and saw a cottage and went to look at it.   It was just so appealing, you know?   Can you tell me anything about it?   You know the place, don‘t you?   It‘s on this property, I‘m sure.”
      LeWain was a little taken aback and seemed to look at her strangely, Marianne thought.
      Then smiling, he said,   “That’s the very place that I was going to suggest that you stay in while you work on your writings.”  
      “Really, isn’t that something and here, I’ve already fallen in love with the place.   Can you give me the history of the house?   I was on my way to the library to see what I could find out about it when Charlotte told me that you were looking for me.”
      “My Grandfather, Blaylock, built that house for himself and Mary Ellen.   They lived there until her death and he then built this house as a memorial to her.   He’s buried next to her in the family graveyard further out on the property.”
      “But, what about the grave marker by the driveway?   She’s not there?”
      “She was there, there wasn’t a road there when they lived here but then when he decided on putting the house here, he put a little cemetery in another place and moved Mary Ellen and the baby there.   The original gravestone wasn't needed in the new cemetery since he had a double stone made for them.   We like having it close to the house, it's sort of like having her close by, you know?   I'll admit, it's also good for the effect, many people ask about it.”
      Marianne watched his face as he spoke and knew that he was thinking of his own lost loves but didn’t feel that he was experiencing the sadness that she had seen on his face before.   She knew that at last he was ready for the deep relationship that he was talking about having with her.   She wondered at herself for thinking this since she, herself, didn’t know that she wanted this. Quickly changing the subject, Marianne said,   “So, the cottage has been empty all this time just waiting for me to come along?”   she hoped to lighten the subject.
      “Actually, it’s been lived in several times since then, most recently by my family and me.   That was Helen and my honeymoon cottage, as it had been my parents before me and my grandparents before them.   I moved the children here after Helen's death.   We were blessed that we had this family home so close so we could start over without being so close to her memories.
      My Grandfather wasn’t so favored, he had to stay there.   That was why he built this house so he could be where she hadn’t been, where the memories were so close.   We're a tender hearted bunch, I'm afraid.
      It’s just been in recent years that we’ve turned it into an inn, it’s so large and it’s a good way for the family to work together and still be close to home.”
      “You and Helen lived there and you wouldn’t mind my being there?   You really must think a lot of me.   You hardly know me, though.”
      “Living the way we do here, so close to the land, I believe our senses are more awakened than most people’s.   I can tell the type of person that you are just by being in your presence, the way I was in the library yesterday and later at dinner and then last night.   I felt that I could talk to you.   I’ve not felt that way before about anyone since Helen’s passing.”
      “Oh, LeWain, as usual, you’ve put me on overload with your words and ideas.   You just reach into my heart and stretch it until I can't tell who I am any longer.   You’re the most unusual person that I’ve ever met but for me to do what you’re suggesting, I’d have to give it some thought.   I wonder if you really know what you’re saying.   You’re a romantic and can see the end of things while I, on the other hand, have the job of thinking my way through to the end.   How can I even thank you much less, consider doing something so far from my scope of imagination?   Do you plan on supporting me while I stay out in that little house, writing to my heart’s content?   I don’t have a lot of savings since I was widowed just a decade ago and had been raising kids before that.”
      LeWain looked at this new thought and said,   “You, too, were widowed,   I’m so sorry, I knew we were kindred spirits.   Yes, I’d be happy to support you while you write in my family’s ancestral home.   Please say yes, you’d be so welcome by all of us.”
      Marianne sat and looked at him, is this a hair-brained idea and I’m beginning to get swept up in his wide scope of imagination of the impossible becoming possible, she thought.   If only something like this was possible, it’s so unrealistic though, not anything that I’ve ever let myself dream, even.   How in the world could the details be worked out?   It’s too sudden, I just won’t let myself go for a ride with this man, this strange man.   Yes, this is a strange man, what am I even doing here with him?
      Turning to him, looking into his eyes, she found herself saying,   “I want so badly to do this, I just don’t see how I can.”
      “Marianne, I don’t know what you do for a living nor do I know anything about your family or any of your life but I do know that in your heart, you’re not happy and would like to have a change.   I’m giving you an opportunity that I doubt you’ve had before and I believe you’d regret not taking it.   We never know what tomorrow holds and for all you know, your job may not even be there when you get back.”
      Marianne realized that he was speaking broadly and not really specifically but still, she thought, I have to get away from here.   I have to get out from under the spell of this unreality.   I’m me, not a dream girl, how could I do something like this?   What if I leave my job and it doesn’t work out here, then what?   People don’t hire older people like me often.   What about the kids?   They expect me to be there for them.
      Standing up, she went to the door and with her hand on the knob, turned and said,   “LeWain, this is so special but also too sudden, I have to let myself breathe, no offence, okay?   Thank you so much for everything that you’ve done for me and are offering to do for me.”
      “Marianne, take my card, it has my personal number on it.   If you should ever need me for anything, give me a call, okay?”
      Marianne took the card and when she did, LeWain took her hand and looking into her eyes, said huskily,   “Could I hug you before you go?”
      Marianne wanted the hug as much as he did and embraced him, then relaxing in his arms, she tilted her head back, looking intently in his face.   He caught her face in his hands and kissed her lips and she kissed him back.
      As they kissed, they both felt something happen to them, it was as though a golden ring encircled them, melding them together.
      They stood inside the ring, knowing that the blessing of the Lord was upon their union.
      “LeWain, will you marry me?”   Marianne asked, no longer confused but sure, not because of LeWain’s words but because she could feel the approval of the Lord upon them, blessing them.
      LeWain said,   “Yes, oh yes, you'll never regret it, I promise.”
      Marianne knew that she wouldn't, she'd found what she'd been searching for.

The End

Finished writing: Wednesday, February 1, 2012, 9:15 AM



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