Page 7 of The Spotted Cottage By the Sea
Russell put his hands out. “Who knows? Take care!”
Grinning, he walked off toward the doors that opened onto the deck. He pushed them out against the vicious wind blowing and stepped outside.
He probably shouldn’t approach strangers in public like that. Russell had never been good at the celebrity part of being an actor. His wife used to say he was the most awkward heartthrob Hollywood had ever known.
Ex-wife. Holly was hisex-wife. Just as he was an ex-heartthrob.
He’d have to work on his social skills. Spending his time tracking wolves through the wilderness had done a number on him.
It was part of the reason he’d moved to San Juan Island. He needed to rejoin society, and a secluded island seemed just the place. The risk of him being swarmed by fans or paparazzi was low.
It was a chance to live normally, or somewhat normally, if he could keep himself from getting overly excited by a woman reading a book that wasn’t really about wolves.
Outside on the deck, air roared past his ears. He could’ve used a jacket, but he didn’t want to go back down to his car to get one. Instead, he walked to the railing and hung his hands over the side.
Russell loved taking the ferry. It never got old. He loved to stand on the deck as the boat hummed, slow and steady, passing the lush, green-treed islands with their rocky edges.
He stood there for some time before his peace was disturbed at the other end of the deck.
He stared, squinting into the sun, and realized it was two young women blasting music. One of them was performing a dance while the other filmed.
This went on for a minute, then they paused, reviewed the footage, and started again. And again. And again.
Whenever someone walked by, in view of the camera, the performer rolled her eyes, one time throwing her hands up in frustration.
Russell didn’t get it. What was the point? It wasn’t for fun; it didn’t look like fun. It had to be some attempt for fame, if only for the thirty seconds it took to watch the video.
Fame was the intent, the goal, the final destination. Fame without reason, attention for the sake of attention.
It was a tale as old as time. He wished he could tell her she was feeding a bottomless pit. That fame would ruin everything she held dear, strip her life of meaning, and push her loved ones away. It would consume everything and produce nothing. Make her retreat into an empty home, or a snowbank in search of wolves, or an island that could only be reached by ferry or plane.
If there was any chance she’d listen to him, he’d tell her nothing lasts forever. Not fame, not fortune. Not even love.
Those were the sort of things people didn’t want to hear, though. He watched a moment longer, then turned to go back inside. That was enough socializing for the day. He’d try again tomorrow.
Five
The ferry made its entrance into the Port of Friday Harbor and Patty peered over her steering wheel, her mind turning. There had to besomethingshe could say to Sheila that would work. Something that would convince her to get back on that ferry and go home.
People started streaming off the ferry and she opened her car door, steadying herself on the headrest as she slowly raised herself onto the sidewalk.
Her new hip might be a marvel of modern medicine, but nothing replaced the body of her youth. Oh, how she’d taken it for granted! How amazing it was when everything just worked and her joints didn’t ache without reason.
Her eyes worked well enough, though, and she could see Sheila smiling at her from across the street.
Patty raised a hand and waved. She’d have to be firm with her. Tell Sheila it was none of her business what she planned to do with her retirement.
Patty was happy with her life, after all. She had nothing to complain about. She wasn’t looking for help, and she most certainly wouldn’t be accepting any.
She started walking down the sidewalk as Sheila made her way up. They met on the corner of Front Street, and before Patty could say a word, Sheila dropped her purse and the box she was carrying onto a bench and threw her arms around her. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you.”
Patty laughed, hugging her back. “I just saw you for the Fourth of July!”
Sheila pulled away and took a deep breath. “I’m ashamed I haven’t been here to see you in so long.”
“Don’t you start with that.” Patty pointed down at the pink box on the bench. “What was it you said about donuts? I thought you were joking.”
Sheila laughed, stooping down to grab the box and popping the lid open. “I don’t joke about donuts.”
