A Fateful
Beginning
***
I had quit my job; stuffed my
belongings into and on top of the trunk of my little old soft-top MGA. Inside
was crammed so full I could barely shift gears. My destination was Lover’s Cove,
a small town on the north coast I drove through last summer. I knew this was
where I belonged. Right then and there I committed to the move by renting an
inexpensive furnished apartment over a smelly fish market in an old building. I
didn’t care about the dilapidated state of the place because it looked out over
my beloved marina.
At 26 I was finally in charge of my
life. Yes, I, Margaret Murphy, now lived at the water’s edge to enjoy watching
the lazy dance of boats on the waves. I was living my dream.
After working at The Marina Shop for just over
a month, I knew it suited me fine. The location was perfect: An easy walk to and from my little shabby
chic flat with time to enjoy the scenery. This night, walking home from work, I
breathed the scents of the sea, the freshly caught fish, and the seaweed that
blended with the rhythmic call of the sea gulls and watched the rain splash
along the walkway. How I loved it. I was filled with peace and happiness. I didn’t care about the raindrops landing on
my face, making my mascara run and giving me a not so fashionable raccoon
look. Nobody was out tonight and it was
too dark to see me anyway.
It began to rain harder. I bowed my
head to keep it out of my eyes when I lost my footing and careen like a cartoon,
flail wildly into mid air. I screamed and miraculously missed hitting the rocky
embankment as I fell. I struggled to grab hold of anything. I crash into the
water like a concrete truck.
That’s the last I remember.
***
I feel myself being pulled up and
out of the water. My God, everything is blurry, a shadowy figure hovers over me
and a masculine voice asks, “Are you OK?”
I sputter water. Cough, gag. “Gosh,
I hope so.” I struggle to speak and now see the face of an angel. I must be dead. This apparition is handsome.
His green eyes twinkle from the light. I’m lying flat on the deck at the entry
to the Marina. This spirit gently lifts
me up and I find myself standing in front of a giant. He has to be 6’
tall. I’m 5’4”. He releases his hold on me, and is dripping
wet, too, but who notices that? “You
saved me?” My teeth chatter, I’m freezing and soaked to the bone.
‘Yes, ma’am. Luckily I heard you
scream and splash into the water. I happened to be on my deck at the right time.”
“Wow.” I slowly digest my incredibly
good luck. What were the odds? “Call me Margaret.” I suddenly feel shy as I
look up directly into his sober face. He
is a human after all. The rain and my hair drip water into my eyes, making me
blink madly.
“I’m Matt Hudson. Are you alright?”
He
reaches out and holds me by my shoulders as if to steady me. I am shaky.
“I think so. I guess I’m not dead,
am I?”
His laughter fills the air,
“Absolutely not. You just survived a frigid swim. I’m docked second down on the
left. You need to dry off and warm up or you’ll end up hypothermic. My place is
warm and I have hot coffee, even wine if you like.”
My head fills with indecision. Should I trust him and go to his boat? He’s
gorgeous and after all he really did save my life. I do feel a bit wobbly, too.
“Thank you, if it’s not a bother. I first need to find my purse. I think I
flung it in this direction.” I point opposite
where I splashed down. Matt joins me in the search.
We spot it at the same time under a
streetlight about eight feet away.
He reaches for my arm to guide me.
He may see I’m not steady on my feet. “Come, we’ll warm up.”
“Thank you, but I’m afraid I’ll make
a wet mess inside your boat.”
He lets loose a robust laugh and captures
my heart then and there. “You just about sank permanently into the depths of
the sea and you are worried about my boat? That floating ‘beauty barge’ is
surrounded top to bottom with water right now, thanks to this downpour. Believe
me, it’s faced worse wet perils in the past and survived.”
He guides me to his slip. I gaze at
the 65-foot motor yacht I recognize from looking at all the boats on the dock
every day and learning about them from work. She is the “Sweet Sanctuary” and
my favorite. I think my mouth is wide
open with shock. He helps me board her.
I soon stand in a beautiful lounge knowing as saturated as I am, the last thing
I want to do is sit on anything clean, dry and pretty, dripping like a wet rag.
Pointing to the head he says, “I’ll
get sweats for you to change into and I’ll bring extra towels so you can wash.
The salt water will make you itch if you don’t shower it away.” With that, he
walks toward the bow of the boat and returns with sweats, three soft bath
towels, all neatly folded, along with a plastic bag for my things. He was
thoughtful enough to bring me a pair of oversized flip-flops, too.
“Thank you.” I gladly accept the needed
supplies and put my soggy shoes inside the big bag along with the rest of my
ruined clothes.
The mirror reflects a wild woman, no
make-up and hair with sand and bits of seaweed poking out. I painfully try to comb
through it but give up until I can wash and rinse it in tangle free conditioner.
I shrug acceptance of my temporary wild unkempt look. Thank heavens I found my
purse. All my ID and makeup, even my comb could have been lost if it had landed
in the water with me. I take a hot shower, dry off, and have another go around
with my clean hair. I wrap my wet tresses
up in a towel, put on his oversized grey sweats, rolling the long legs up and
cinch the waist in to fit me. I peek at my reflection in the mirror, judge my
make shift attempt at make-up, then go to the lounge. Matt is already there. He
cleaned up faster than me.
“Would you like a glass of
Cabernet?” He asks as he offers me a tray of crackers and cheese along with slices
of deli meat on a silver tray. I see chocolates on the table in a lovely china
dish.
“You really know how to treat a
lady. The wine sounds good and I’m hungry. These snacks are perfect.” I sit alongside Matt, reach for a cracker and
layer it with cheese and meat, leaving the chocolate for later.
We talk for hours, telling stories
of our childhood antics, share stories about where we presently work, and where
we went to college, what we enjoy on our off hours. He tells me how he ended up
buying his yacht. He always had a passion for the sea, the same as me. He moved
here two months ago and fell in love with the beauty of the area.
We face each other, stop talking and
as if by magnetic force, move closer. It seems like slow motion. I’ll tell you it was our very first kiss. I realized years later that the four little
angels I saw when I was in the water were you.
“Yeah, we know, Mom, we’re all
angels.” Jimmy says as the three behind him agree, and snicker.
Nonetheless, this is how I met your
dad twenty-two years ago. We were married right there on the pier in front of
“Sweet Sanctuary”. We saved money by
living aboard her for four years before buying the Marina Store. It took a while
to remodel the upstairs but finished making it our family home overlooking the
Marina just before I had you, Jimmy. And eventually we welcomed the rest of you
three beautiful children.
You always love listening to this
story on our wedding anniversary and never seem bored hearing how we first met,
over and over again. It always seems
like I am telling it for the first time. I can never resist kissing your dad
when I finish, even after all these years. It is our shared tale of love and
romance.
Matt winks at the kids and grabs me in
a grandiose manner by the waist, brings me close in a flourish, and we
kiss. All of us giggle and join in a
group hug, blessed by the happenstance of fate.
End