Page 12 of Landing Her Eagle
I studythe pictures Daphne sent me of her adventures today. She seems happier than I’ve seen her in years. My heart constricted when I read her “Wish you were here” message. I’m working on it, honey. Besides the selfies, she included a picture she took of a bench at the base of the Barnegat Lighthouse. On the bench is a plaque bearing names with a date and the words “He asked - she said yes.” It had to remind her of hearing about her dad’s proposal to her mom at the Cape May Lighthouse. We’re going to have a bench of our own someday. I know it.
I imagine all the places around the world we could have benches and plaques to commemorate the special moments of our lives. Our first kiss, our first time telling each other “I love you,” where I propose, where we go on our tenth anniversary. I can’t wait to show our kids the special spots and tell them the stories. Just as Daphne’s parents and grandparents told her about their stories with the Cape May Lighthouse, we’ll be able to tell our kids the story of how we shared special times not only at the Cape May Lighthouse but all around the world too.
We could travel in the summer when the kids are off from school. I’m curious if Daphne would want to homeschool. That way, we could travel with the kids without the restriction of school calendars. That’s years down the road though. We need a few years of just us before we have kids. At least two kids. It would be so cool to teach them to fly if they were eagle shifters like me. I could show them so many things.
I finish the editing project I’m working on and get ready for bed. Tomorrow is a big day, and I want to be well-rested for it. If I’m lucky, I won’t get much sleep tomorrow night.
11
DAPHNE
Sunday is another picture-perfect day.I start the day at the lighthouses on the Delaware River and am working my way along the coast of the Delaware Bay, my favorite part of the trip. The drive along the western and southern coasts of New Jersey is so peaceful. When people think of New Jersey, they think of casinos or turnpikes or super tan dudes with big muscles strutting along the boardwalk. They don’t think of these tranquil places where you can be quiet. I love driving the backroads, especially in the fall when the leaves are changing.
I arrive at East Point Lighthouse around noon. The East Point Lighthouse from my memory is crumbling. Paint flaking off everywhere, swirling in the ever-present wind coming in through the sizable gaps created by the missing tiles in the fabled red roof.ThisEast Point Lighthouse is beautiful, nothing like my memory but still familiar. The white exterior is brighter, the red roof complete and vibrant in the midday sun. No longer are guests limited to one room. The entire house-like structure is available to explore, all the way up to the light tower extending out the roof. It sits on the Delaware Bay’s edge, surrounded by marshland. I’ve read in the news about coastal storms eroding the dunes erected to protect the lighthouse. The preservation group has been working hard to get governmental help.
“Wow,” I say, collecting my souvenir. “You’ve done a wonderful job with the restoration. The last time I was here was ten years ago, and it needed so much work.”
The gentlemen at the table puff up with pride.
“Thank you, young lady. It’s been a labor of love. Now if we can get the help we need to curb the erosion, we’ll have a chance at protecting this beauty.”
“I hope you’re successful. It would be a tragedy to lose this wonderful lighthouse.”
As I tour the renovated interior and examine the antiques collected to decorate the home, Lantern, the lighthouse kitty, rubs against my leg.
“Hey, kitty,” I croon as I pet its head. I smile at the purr that emanates from her. Him? We’ll stick with kitty. Maybe I should get a cat. It would be nice to have company. After collecting my coin and donating, I grab my lunch from the car and sit on a bench near the dunes. It’s so peaceful here. Even with groups of people coming and going today, there’s a sense of serenity and timelessness.
What would it have been like to be a lighthouse keeper or the keeper’s wife out here in this bit of heaven? Would it have been lonely? Or wonderful? I can’t imagine being here while a storm raged. Thunder and lightning must be louder and brighter without other buildings around. There would be waves crashing on shore, threatening to breach the dunes and rush to the steps of your home. With all the marshland, there must be times you’re cut off from the nearest town. Sure, it’s a small town, but it would offer at least a touch of civilization. I’m probably best suited for my quiet, suburban life. I don’t know if the romance of living in a lighthouse is enough to overcome my scaredy-cat tendencies.
I brought my binoculars with me for bald eagle or dolphin spotting. I’ve read both are visible here, but no luck so far. Maybe it’s the wrong time of year? I want to come back when there aren’t as many people around. Possibly I’ll have success then. I’ll ask Logan. He’d know.
Has he ever flown here? I’ve known for years he’s an eagle shifter, but we’ve never discussed details. He’s the first shifter I met, well, that I know is a shifter. When we were growing up, shifters and other paranormal folk were still a secret. When I was in high school, a bride on one of the cable television wedding shows got so mad over something minor, she shifted into a grizzly bear on camera. They named that episode “Grizzilla.” Since then, it’s come out that shifters, vampires, witches, and other paranormal creatures have always lived among us peacefully. They’ve been our teachers, doctors, clergy, best friends. It’s amazing it was a secret for so long.
Reality TV was quick to jump in the fray with shows likeBigfoot Finds a Bride, a dating show my friend Shelby was on, andYeti Get Ready, a makeover show. My favorite isFrom Dud to Den, a home makeover program on cable. I love how they tie natural elements into the designs. I love watching these shows, but it’s intimidating how beautiful the shifter girls are even when they’re a hot mess in need of a makeover. I wish I had the confidence they exude. On the shifter dating shows, the successful relationships often only happen when both of the contestants are shifters. The season Shelby was onBigfoot Finds a Bride,the Bigfoot bachelor ended up cutting Shelby, who truly cared about him, only to end up being rejected by the human woman he picked to propose to because she had the wrong idea about shifters. Thankfully, he and Shelby found each other again recently and are in love. Liam’s parents are a mixed marriage. His mom is human and his dad shifts. They’re happy, but they might be the exception that proves the rule. It helps that his mom, Faith, is gorgeous and smart. Heck, she was a cheerleader for the Philadelphia football team. She may be human, but she’s more than just a regular woman.
I see the sign directing me to the next lighthouse and hit my blinker.
After spending a restful hour at East Point, I begin my trip to my ultimate destination: Cape May Point and the Cape May Lighthouse. I drum my fingers on the steering wheel as I drive along, inexpertly keeping time with the beat of Van Halen’s “Jump.” When it was Dad’s turn to pick the music on a road trip, it would always be their 1984 album.
I alternate between being excited to visit again and dreading facing these memories. I’ve avoided so many experiences these past ten years since my parents passed because I don’t want to feel the sorrow of doing it alone. I’ve fought hard to climb out of the well of despair I was wallowing in.
I resisted going to therapy and was angry when Gran insisted I go. When I finally gave in, I just sat there for fifty minutes in stony silence. I’m ashamed to admit that the first few weeks, that’s all I did. Eventually, I connected with my therapist, Claire, and she helped me so much. I still check in every few months for a tune-up.
I struggle with catastrophizing. I expect everything to go wrong and to be awful. It’s a defense mechanism. If I expect the worst, I’m not blindsided again when it happens. I wasn’t like this when I was younger. I was such an optimist, when one of my teachers told me I was obnoxiously perky,I took it as a compliment.
Then the accident happened, and I buried that optimist with my parents.
But I’m going to bring her back. Claire is going to be proud of me for doing this, and I’m looking forward to telling her.
I wish I wasn’t doing this alone. I know I can do it on my own, but I don’t want to. I hope to find love one day and have someone to share adventures with. Logan, preferably. However, it won’t be today. And it won’t be at the lighthouse. And it definitely won’t be him.
“Oh, thank goodness,” I mutter, pulling into the Cape May Lighthouse parking lot and seeing the sign pointing to the bathrooms. Real bathrooms, not porta-potties like at the last two stops. The lighthouse is part of a state park with hiking trails, picnic pavilions, and a visitor center. There’s a viewing platform overlooking a pond. Being at New Jersey’s southern tip, the area is an important stop for migratory birds and a bird-watcher’s paradise.
As I step out of the restroom onto the deck, I see an enormous bird, some kind of raptor, resting on a branch. I’m uncertain what kind it is, but it makes think me of Logan. I’ve never seen him as his golden eagle shifter. I’ve never knowingly seen anyone in their shifter form in person, just on TV.
I bet my parents would know exactly what kind of bird it is and tell me all about its habitat, migratory habits, and other things. Mom’s big thing was to talk about breeding plumage. Mom was a bit of a goof. I got that from her. I smile, realizing I’ve been smiling at memories of my parents this weekend, not tearing up. This adventure has been what I’ve needed to help me move on. I’m always going to miss them, but they’re still with me, no matter where I am. They would want me to be happy and live my life to the fullest. I think I’m finally ready to do that. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll figure it out.
The pair of ladies at the volunteer table are staring at me. I hope I wasn’t talking to myself again. I rub my nose in case of boogers. They’re whispering to each other, and the shorter one excitedly waves to me. I give a tentative wave back and walk their way. There’s been a nice, steady crowd while I’ve been here, so it’s not like they’re lacking company. I guess they’re super friendly, and that’s a wonderful trait to have when dealing with the public, I guess. Maybe that’s not water in their bottles? I bet this could be a lot more fun with a buzz on.
