Project "Lavender" - Chapter One
Below is the first draft of the first chapter of my work in progress novel "Lavender." It follows two couples that spend a week at a cottage in Ontario's cottage country on a fictional Lavender Lake.
Author’s Note:
This is a rough draft. It has not been edited properly. Nothing is set in stone yet, and things may change as the draft develops. Thank you to anyone who reads and leaves feedback. I am very excited to share original works with you!
Chapter One
Day Five:
The lake is lavender crashing into burnt orange. A reflection of the falling summer sun.
Augusta sits with her feet dangling over the edge of the dock, trying to catch her breath. For days, guilt has been eating at her; moths biting at the fabric inside her brain.
A therapist once told her that extremes in temperature can help regulate the human body’s anxiety response. A hot shower, for example. A cold compress. She has spent many anxious evenings in her life with one of those freezer eye masks strapped to her forehead. Right now, Augusta is considering flinging her whole body into the cool water, just to see if it will help.
She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. She’s dangerously close to feeling pathetic.
The last thing Augusta wanted when she agreed to come on this stupid couples’ trip - ill advisedly arranged by her lovely, well-meaning boyfriend - was to lose him. But that’s what’s going to happen, isn’t it? That’s the only way this story ends.
Augusta is going to lose Carey.
The worst part is that she could have seen it all coming. She could have spared herself all of this anguish.
As if summoned by this particular thought, Augusta hears footsteps creaking the wooden dock planks behind her. She dreads him coming to comfort her right now; she doesn’t know how to explain any of this to him.
“Augusta?”
The voice calling to her doesn’t belong to Carey. It belongs to his best friend. Sam.
Shit.
This is even worse.
Augusta pulls her legs out of the water, stands, and turns to face Sam. She smoothes the creased lines of her floral skirt along her thighs and tries to avoid direct eye contact. If she lets his annoyingly soft eyes meet hers, she’ll go ahead and start complicating her feelings even further, and that’s the last thing she needs.
“What’s up?” Augusta asks, like she didn’t make a beeline down here from the cottage after an awkward conversation, and like she isn’t acting entirely suspiciously.
“Come on,” Sam sighs. “They’re beginning to wonder what’s going on. Come back up, please.”
Augusta smirks before she can think better of it. Maybe it’s the wine she had earlier. Maybe she’s just beyond annoyed to be dragged into this charade he’s intent on keeping up.
“We have to tell him the truth, Sam,” she says, despite knowing his very clear desire not to talk about this. “It’s not fair to Carey or Luana.”
Sam’s expression darkens.
“We don’t have to tell anyone anything,” he grits back. “And besides, there’s nothing to tell.”
That, Augusta knows, is a blatant lie.
But what choice does she have? If Sam won’t allow them to explain things with any amount of decorum, then what is left for Augusta but to shoulder the pressure until she cracks?
Day One:
The first thing that happens is Carey’s engine won’t start.
Augusta thinks she should take this as some sort of omen. A bad sign for the trip ahead. It’s a relatively new Grand Cherokee, and Carey is neurotic about taking good care of it. He’s particular about a lot of things, and this is one of them. There’s no cause for it not to start that Augusta can think of, so it must be a looming notice from the universe to stay put. But he calls her with a ‘hey, so’ and asks if they can take her vehicle, and before she can weigh her options, she’s saying yes. Of course they can pile the cooler and all their things into her old, tiny Hyundai Sonata. Why not?
She picks him up early. A little bit after eight in the morning. Carey wants to get to the cottage before Sam and Luana. He wants to make sure everything looks right.
“Sam never gets to take vacations, you know?” He’d explained to her when he’d announced their early departure time. “I want to make it perfect for him.”
She doesn’t know. She hasn’t met Sam before, let alone his longtime girlfriend. She’s been dating Carey for four months now, and the whole thing has sort of been a whirlwind. They met, saw a lot of each other, and fell quickly and intensely in love. She’s heard a lot about Sam – like, seriously, a lot – but hasn’t actually had the chance to spend any time with her boyfriend’s best friend of well over a decade. And the truth is, she’s terrified to meet him.
Carey seems to be in the opposite mood when she pulls into his driveway. The driveway of his house, because he’s the kind of person who can afford one of those.
“Good morning!” He beams, blue eyes glittering as he leans in for a kiss. He’s holding two tumblers of freshly brewed coffee and a lunch bag full of snacks for the drive.
“Good morning,” she finds herself replying with a decent amount of enthusiasm. As nervous as she is, she can never quite help being dazzled by him.
“Thanks again for the last minute vehicle change, Gus,” Carey says, handing her her mug of coffee. “I’d ask Sam to take a look at it, but his shift doesn’t end until noon.”
“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” she shrugs. Because, really, it isn’t. Unless you happen to be looking for dark omens. Which she often is. “We can jump it here, if you want? I have cables.”
“Nah,” Carey sighs. “It happened two weeks ago, and since I can’t figure out why the battery is dying, I think it’s better to take it to a shop when we’re back.”
Or have Sam look at it, Augusta thinks. But she says nothing.
“Alright,” Augusta nods. “Well, the weather is perfect for a drive. Shall we get going?”
This seems to be the perfect thing to say. Carey grins.
“I’m so excited!”
▪️▪️▪️
It’s a three hour drive to Carey’s family cottage. He and his sister share it. They inherited it after their parents died. They inherited a lot, actually. Not that Augusta can fault him for that. Some people’s horrible luck is a bit more fortuitous than hers happened to be.
Augusta isn’t a huge road trip person. She grew up in a city where everything was commutable by public transit. Her old, used car was a purchase made of necessity, when her studies brought her to a less convenient part of the province. And while she’s become accustomed to the luxury of driving everywhere she needs to go, she’s still not the kind of person to willingly stuff herself in a car for hours at a time.
Carey is the opposite. He loves it. Whenever there’s a place on the continent Augusta mentions not having been or potentially wanting to go, he suggests a road trip. You’d love the drive to Halifax! Or, driving along the PCH is magical. Or, there’s something about driving through the Poconos in the fall. It could be annoying, but it’s not. His enthusiasm is actually sort of dazzling. It makes her think that, sure, cramming herself in a tin can for forty-eight hours and eating fast food and gas station coffee could really be a good time.
But maybe that’s been the thing all along with Carey. Every single moment she’s known him, he’s made her feel hopeful about the future.
“Any musical preferences?” Carey asks as they pull onto the road.
She’s letting him drive, despite it being her car. She really doesn’t want to be the one navigating old dirt roads through the woods.
“Not really,” she shakes her head. “Whatever you’re in the mood for.”
He selects a sort of light, breezy playlist. The kind that honestly could make her fall asleep if she had a glass of wine and was sitting in a sunny room.
For the first little bit, they drive in half-quiet, half-small talk. Discussions about work. Discussions about the weather. Discussions about what sort of alcohol will pair best with which meals Carey has planned. Eventually, it dwindles out and Carey gives her a concerned sort of look.
“Are you okay?” He asks.
Augusta takes a sip of coffee before answering.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Carey frowns. “You just seem quiet today. A little withdrawn, maybe?”
That’s a fair observation. She can get like this. He just doesn’t really know that side of her. Not because she’s been hiding it, but because she tends to mirror his energy when she’s around him. It’s sort of infectious.
She takes a deep breath. “Uh, I guess I’m just nervous.”
“Nervous? About the trip?” Carey asks.
She nods.
“Really?” Carey asks. He suddenly looks very worried. “Shit, Gus… I didn’t know that. Why?”
Yeah, that’s a big question. There’s no real way for her to answer it without sounding bad, right? Either she makes it sound like she doesn’t care to meet the people who are important to him, or she makes it sound like she doesn’t trust that they’re good people. Neither is quite true. She’s not sure she can win here. The truth is, she’s terrified Sam and Luana won’t like her. She’s terrified they’ll say as much to Carey. She’s terrified that, somehow, this will end up with him deciding they’re just not a good fit.
“I guess it’s just a big deal,” Augusta says. “Meeting your best friend and his partner.”
Carey blinks.
“I mean, yeah, but it’s just Sam.”
“See, you know that, but I haven’t actually met the guy.”
“Fair,” Carey chuckles. “You’ll feel a lot better once you meet him, I promise. Sam is like… I mean, he’s the best. He’s really kind and he gets along with everyone. And Luana is a sweetheart.”
It’s not that she thinks they will be bad people. Not at all. Carey likes them. Well, like might be an understatement. Carey is determinedly attached to Sam. He likes Luana. In either case, she can’t imagine him caring so much about bad people. It’s just that people don’t tend to like Augusta very much. Not the way Carey did. People don’t always give her a chance.
“I’m sure they’re great,” Augusta says. “It’s just pressure, you know? What if…”
She better not even think about questioning Sam. The Sam.
“Okay, what if Luana doesn’t like me?” Augusta asks. “And then we can never do things as couples, because she doesn’t like her half of the deal?”
Carey scoffs. “That would never happen.”
“Oh, would it not?” Augusta laughs.
“No way,” Carey shakes his head. “Gus, you are an absolute delight. Who the hell wouldn’t love you?”
▪️▪️▪️
Everyone has people that don’t like them. It’s not that Augusta is special. It’s only that, people never like her for long. Or even if they do, she can never quite blend right into their lives.
First there was Nathan, who couldn’t accept the field of study she changed from. If you’re smart enough to be doing pre-med, why would you switch into anthropology? That’s sort of a stupid thing for a smart person to do. He liked everything about her, except that. And she was unwilling to change that for him. So he hadn’t really liked her that much, in the end.
Then there was Willa. At first she thought what Augusta does for a living was interesting. Quirky. A great talking piece at parties. She’s doing her Master’s degree on death? Isn’t that exciting? But the thing about Willa, as fun and as charming and as beautiful as she was, she also liked to make a show at rebellion. And that’s all Augusta was, in the end. Something that shocked people. A woman. A queer woman. A morbid, queer woman. Eventually, the novelty wore out, and she left Augusta for a tattoo artist from Montreal.
Nobody else had ever been quite as serious as Nathan or Augusta. There were other, shorter things. All of which just sort of fizzled out. Sometimes before anything could even really get started. Some of which she saw coming, some of which winded her with surprise. Either way, Augusta thinks there must just be something about her.
She’s never the person anyone keeps. Not forever.
▪️▪️▪️
“How long does this road go on for?” Augusta asks once they’re on what Carey simply calls the cottage road.
“Uh, ten kilometers, give or take,” Carey answers.
She’s lost cell signal. The road is bumpy. Her stomach is lilting. It’s literally just a cleared, single-lane dirt path through the forest. Her poor sedan isn’t loving it. Augusta thinks they’ve officially left civilization.
“Why? You feeling okay?” Carey asks, as Augusta keeps a steady eye on the road ahead of them, trying to avoid getting carsick.
“Yeah, fine,” she lies.
She doesn’t want to be a complainer. Who likes the person that bitches about a bumpy road when you bring them to your magical lake house in the woods? No one. No one likes that person. Augusta will not be that person.
Carey frowns, seeing through it. “Almost there. I promise.”
And he’s right. Within a few minutes, they’re pulling into the long, gravel driveway of what Augusta would never personally describe as a cottage, but rather, a very fancy vacation house. It looks like it belongs in a magazine. Huge, triangular timber frames. High ceilings, huge windows. Stone trim around the base. A wrap around porch. All overlooking a quiet bay in a glittering, blue lake. There are bird feeders and raised flower beds and stone pathways leading down to a wooden dock.
“Wow,” Augusta exhales as she steps out of the car. “This is…”
“Pretty cool, right?” Carey smiles at her.
“Like heaven,” she confirms.
His already sweet grin turns into something even more breathtaking. This is his favorite place in the world. He’s brought her here. He’s shared it with her. He was excited to share it with her. Augusta gets a warm feeling in her chest.
“Show me around,” she tells him. “I want to see everything.”
▪️▪️▪️
Carey shows her everything, as requested.
They unpack the car and he gives her a tour of the cottage. The dining room. The living room, with Welcome to Lavender Lake painted on a canoe paddle hanging from the wall. The massive master bedroom they’ll be sharing. The spacious bathroom with the big rainfall shower.
“Perfect after a cold swim,” he assures her. “And, you know, for other stuff.”
She blushes, absolutely on board for either of those options.
He shows her the little sunroom where his sister taught him to read as a kid. Where he says he likes to listen to music and sit with coffee when it rains.
“It’d be perfect for playing board games,” Augusta says. “You could leave it all set up for hours without disturbing the rest of the house.”
Carey raises an eyebrow. “You know, we’ve never done that, but that’s brilliant.”
“You’ve never spent a rainy cottage afternoon playing a board game?” Augusta asks. “I thought that’s, like, what rich Canadian cottage people do?”
If not evident, this is not how Augusta grew up.
Carey laughs. “We weren’t a game family! What can I say?”
“We will simply have to change that,” Augusta shakes her head. “I packed games.”
Carey smiles at her. “That sounds perfect.”
She helps him get things organized. They make up the beds for themselves and Sam and Luana. Put the food away in the fridge. The main fridge; different from the beer fridge, of course. Which they also stock. Carey is flitting about a bit neurotically, going over everything twice over the dust cloth or broom.
“I think it’s pretty clean,” Augusta assures him, looking around. And even if it wasn’t perfect, who the hell would care? This is the kind of place you see on a VRBO ad that you can never actually afford.
“No, I know,” Carey sighs. “Just, my sister and the kids were here two weeks ago. They always leave something sticky. You know kids that age.”
She doesn’t, really. She actually doesn’t know what ages his niece and nephew are, but she neglects to say so.
“I haven’t noticed anything you haven’t already tackled,” Augusta says. “Maybe you can take a breather now, huh?”
Crack a beer. Enjoy that very nice lake. They only have a few hours left just the two of them. Might be nice to optimize that time.
“You’re right,” Carey says, disarming himself of the dust cloth. “Sorry. I just want everything to be perfect for Sam.”
It doesn’t escape her notice that he forgets to mention Luana.
In their four months together, Augusta has learned a lot about Sam. For a guy she’s never met, she sure has a lot of details about his life. Everyone likes Sam; he’s so friendly and charismatic. Sam is a nurse, he’s amazing with people. Sam can fix anything, he’s so smart. Sam is divorced, which Carey attributes to a rushed, too-young marriage and pressure from his conservative parents. Sam is humble; he has no idea how great he is, and Carey wishes he could see it. She’s heard all this and more. She has not heard Sam is a neat freak and will flee the cottage if it doesn’t sparkle. If Carey is even moderately accurate about Sam’s personality, Augusta thinks he’ll be quite grateful with the effort Carey has put into this week.
“You said he never takes vacations,” Augusta reminds him. “I think this will be perfect.”
“Right again,” Carey sighs. “I get really in my head about all this.”
“You know what might help?” Augusta wiggles her eyebrows.
“What?” Carey asks.
“A nice cool-down swim in that gorgeous lake down there,” Augusta says, pointing out the massive window towards the bay. The water is refracting sunlight with such a shine that it almost bears the effect of having taken hallucinogens.
Carey smirks. “I think that can be arranged.”
▪️▪️▪️
The next few hours are sheer bliss. The exact type of thing Augusta would imagine when invited to a secluded forest getaway with her boyfriend.
They change into their bathing suits, grab drinks, and head down to the lake. Augusta is feeling a little bold with her choice. She’s always been a bit nervous to wear anything that really accentuates her curves, opting to hide her stomach and thighs when possible. As if the world is always looking at her, scrutinous. Expecting her to be something she’s not. But Carey loves her body. He’s vocal about that. Appreciative and kind and complimentary. So, when shopping for new swimsuits for the trip, she’d branched and bought a few two-pieces. Today, she chooses a bright pink one that she thinks looks good against her skin.
“You’re a vision, Gus,” Carey tells her when she puts it on, grinning.
Augusta’s cheeks heat.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
And really, that’s an understatement. Carey is a very attractive man. He’s tall and broad and just the right kind of soft. He always has a sun kissed sort of look going for him, which isn’t exactly easy to accomplish in Canada. It’s an easy sort of beauty that she could get lost looking at, and often has. She thinks she will again today, when he’s surrounded by sunlight and lake water.
Once they make it to the dock, he sets down the towels and drinks and just dives right in. No hesitation. He doesn’t check the temperature. He doesn’t check for, like, snapping turtles under the surface. He just goes for it. A few moments later he breaks through the disturbed surface of the water, flicking his head to the side so his wet curls don’t get into his eyes.
Augusta can't help but laugh. He looks so joyful. She wants to harness whatever it is about him that accesses that joy so readily and capsulize it for herself.
“Water’s warm!” He calls. “You coming in?”
“Is it actually?” She asks, dubious about their definitions of warm.
“Nearly bathwater!” Carey insists.
Augusta raises an eyebrow at him and then dips her toe off the edge of the dock experimentally. It’s actually quite a nice temperature. Not like any bath she’s likely to take, but definitely not cold. The water leaves a soft sensation against her skin.
Carey starts humming the Jeopardy theme song.
“Okay, okay! I’m coming!” Augusta laughs.
And, holding her breath, she takes a step and pushes herself off the dock in a very lame little jump.
The water off the edge of the dock is deep. She sinks down below the surface and her feet never hit the ground. It does feel warm on her body, though colder the deeper she goes. Something about the tepid lake makes her feel swathed in silk.
She swims up to her surface, parting the curtain of thick curls that float around her head and neck.
“Okay, you were right,” she says to Carey. “It’s kind of better than a bath.”
“I know!” He beams. He swims up and kisses her, sort of awkwardly, albeit sweetly. “It’s the best, right?”
“I can’t believe you just got to be here all the time as a kid,” she says. “That must have been so magical.”
There’s a wistful flash in Carey’s eyes. There and then gone again.
“Yeah, it was great,” he says. Though she knows there’s more to it than that, judging by the sudden noticeable drain of enthusiasm.
They swim for a while, and then they climb out to lay on the dock on their towels. Drying off in the sun with a cool can of beer in hand. Carey had thought to bring a bluetooth speaker, and plays music from his phone. Augusta could fall asleep, just like this, content like a cat on a windowsill. Her damp shoulder presses against Carey’s, their fingers lace together, and for a moment, she has all she wants in the world. The steady, warm reminder that she isn’t alone. That she has a partner, a person, a safe space. That she is something to someone, worth inviting into this special, personal place.
She feels completely at peace.
And then a dog licks a stripe across her face.
Maybe she did doze off a little, because Augusta neither hears the dog approach, nor senses its face looming over hers before it does a drive-by licking. The wet, hot feeling against her cheek startles her into a little squeak, and she flies into a sitting position, entirely alarmed.
“What the hell?” She demands, looking at the intruder.
An unfamiliar spaniel-y looking dog, white with red patches, stares back at her, tongue hanging from its mouth, whole body wiggling with excitement.
“Sailor!” Carey exclaims happily. The dog runs into his open arms, flopping down across his lap for a belly rub. “What are you doing here, girl? I didn’t know you were coming! You’re early!”
He’s talking to the dog like she’s going to provide him with answers.
“You know her?” Augusta asks.
“Yeah,” Carey grins, scratching between Sailor’s ears. “She’s Luana’s dog. She’s the best. Luana wasn’t going to bring her, but I guess she changed her mind.”
Augusta feels a twinge of frustration. Not because she doesn’t like dogs. Dogs are fine. Some of them. She’s never had one or spent extensive time with one, but they’re fine. The frustration is merely the element of surprise. An unexpected dog and an early arrival from its owner. Sam and Luana are early. Things are not going according to the schedule Augusta had built up in her head.
Sailor breaks away from Carey and runs off the edge of the dock, taking a flying leap into the lake. At the same time, Carey climbs to his feet and turns to head towards the shore, to the walkway that leads up to the cottage.
“Uh, is she okay?” Augusta asks, looking back at the dog, who is paddling happily in the water.
“I think so,” Carey shrugs. “Luana does a lot of hiking with her. She can swim just fine.”
Well, alright then.
Augusta grabs her towel, wraps it around her body, and follows Carey up the pathway, around the house to where two people are grabbing bags from a dark green SUV. She’s a little self-conscious about meeting them for the first time in a bikini. She realizes it’s the swimsuit she chose and she was going to wear it in front of them at some point. But she has a pretty floral cover up she was planning on being attached to while not in the water.
“Hey!” Carey calls out. “This is a surprise! You guys are early!”
Sam turns around and looks at Carey. Luana is walking a bag up the porch, back turned so Augusta cannot see her face. So she focuses on observing Sam.
He’s handsome. That’s the first thing she notices about him. He’s very, very handsome. Pretty almost, actually. Like all his features are just a little too perfect. Thick, dark hair. Sharp jaw, high cheekbones. His smile genuinely dimples when he sees Carey. She knows he’s a nurse, but she’d believe him if he said he was playing a nurse on a medical procedural.
“Supervisor told me to take off early,” Sam explains. “Thought we’d get going.”
“Man!” Carey exclaims, practically giddy. “I’m so happy you’re here! And you brought Sailor!”
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay!” Luana calls from the porch. “My brother was going to watch her, but he broke his big toe, and he wouldn’t be able to walk her, so…”
“Hey, no. I love Sailor!” Carey says. “I told you to bring her.”
Luana walks down the porch towards them, and for the first time, Augusta gets a clear view of her. She’s wearing denim overalls on top of a navy crop top. Her dark hair is cropped into a pixie cut. She’s got this tall, lithe, almost boyish frame that makes Augusta think of a perfect flapper. And, oh no. This a problem Augusta never saw coming. An outcome she couldn’t have predicted.
Augusta knows her. She’s met Luana before. Only then, they were both handing out different names.
So incredible!
fantastic work 😁