Memories of the Lake

By Anthony Bethel

Memories of the Lake continues the story of Heart in the Window some five years later, and the bitterness between Tori and Jessica continues. The hatred boils over when Will Sherman the Sheriff of Collins Springs and Jessica become romantically involved. All is going well in the small town of Collins Springs until Jessica receives the news her ex-husband has been arrested. When Jessica returns to Chicago she makes it known she has hard evidence that will rock the foundation of the case.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 15, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465394224

Anthony Bethel

Anthony lives in Hawaii with his family. He began writing shortly after graduating with a Master’s in Information Technology Management. His hobbies are playing golf and spending time with his children.

Book preview

Copyright © 2011 by Anthony Bethel.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011960339

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4653-9421-7

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4653-9420-0

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4653-9422-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

101879

CONTENTS

Preface

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Even though my father is no longer with us,

I walk in the shadow of a great man!

I miss you, Dad!

PREFACE

MEMORIES OF THE Lake is the continuing story of Heart in the Window. Heart in the Window is the story of a single dad raising his two daughters in a small fictional town not far from Chicago called Collins Springs. Chris Bruemann and his daughters, Danielle and Shania, are recovering from the tragic loss of their mother, Vicki. Until Jessica Weems, a recently divorced psychologist, moves in next door and attempts to fill that void. That’s until Tori (Chris’s sister-in-law) finds out Jessica is spending time with Chris and vows to get Chris back.

Tori and Chris was an item in college, but Tori chose to leave Chris and move to Chicago in search of a wealthy husband. When her plans to find a wealthy husband fail yet again, she leaves her Chicago life behind and sets out to reclaim the love she turned away and the one her baby sister eventually claims. After a while, Tori and Chris rekindle their love, until Tori is suddenly kidnapped, casting fear over Collins Springs and leaving Chris doubtful of Tori’s past.

Memories of the Lake takes up the story of life in Collins Springs five years later.

CHAPTER 1

JUST A FEW hours ago, Chris didn’t think he was going to survive the four-hour journey to the lake. This is their first family outing since Tori’s kidnapping almost five years ago; he’s been looking forward to relaxing by the lake for quite some time. Just a short time ago, Danielle and Shania were in a feud over clothes, music, and dominance of the room to a point Tori demanded a truce; they both remain silent and in neutral corners, for the time being.

When they were younger, threats of turning the truck around would bring an end to an argument immediately, but now, it doesn’t have the same effects. Now both of them will gladly spend the next three days with friends at the mall.

After the kidnapping, Tori’s symptoms were easily treated with a mild sedative, and it seemed like everything was going well. She even started working as a receptionist in a local doctor’s office. Several months later, her emotional stability wanes, and the onset of severe depression, anxiety, and paranoia takes control. Coupled with the fear of what happened to her sister Vicki years earlier only made matters worse.

Each day, her fears multiplied to a point she wouldn’t step foot outside; she even grew cautious of Danielle and Shania leaving home. If the girls were more than a few minutes late from school, she became hysterical. Eventually, Chris persuaded Tori to seek help and found a treatment facility that would visit her at home. With Chris by her side, they slowly overcame her agoraphobia, and within a few years, she was able to stand on the front porch, but not without support.

The exit for Stuki-Stansfield Lake is just about two miles farther up the interstate and a fifteen-minute drive through the thick forest of pines, oaks, and maple trees. Labor Day is still a few weeks away, and the forest hasn’t fully shed its deep-green foliage for the bright colors of autumn. The winding single-lane road is shaded with large overhanging trees as specks of sunlight flicker on the windshield and dot the roadway ahead. Chris lowers his window to let in the fresh smell of pine and maple when the road opens with a view of the lake. The calm surface of the lake is breathtakingly beautiful, and several families are taking advantage of the warm sun to get in some midday fishing.

A mile or so farther a camper’s park, a small playground with a jungle gym, a few swings, and several Winnebagos are parked where Chris remembers a large open field. The country store named as such is pretty much like he remembers it though two rocking chairs were on the front porch next to a barrel full of ice-cold soda pop. Images of his first visit came flooding back. Danielle was barely four at the time; she didn’t care for strangers and put up a huge fuss the first time she met Mr. Clarke.

How about we pick up some supplies and try and get in some fishing before nightfall? The first one to catch a fish doesn’t have to do dishes.

Lacking the enthusiasm Chris is hoping for, he pulls the truck to a stop shaking everyone awake. The store still has the damp feel with the scent of sage and cinnamon. But it’s clean and organized with every item a family might want on a camping trip by a lake. Chris, expecting to see Mr. Clarke behind the counter, is greeted by a young girl close to Danielle’s age. A pretty girl with a round tanned face and short auburn hair greets them with a genuine smile.

May I help you?

Yes. My name is Chris… Is Mr. Clarke here?

Yes… He’s my grandpa. Let me get ‘im for you.

The young girl disappears behind the curtain briefly, and Chris begins admiring a fishing pole, Tori shops around, placing several items into a small wicker basket.

Chris returns the fishing pole to the display rack when the young girl appears behind the counter followed by an elderly gentleman wearing a red flannel shirt and overalls. Wiping his eyeglasses on a handkerchief, his thinning hair is much whiter than Chris remembers.

Hello, Mr. Clarke, how are you? extending his hand

The puzzled look on Mr. Clarke’s face is a firm indicator he has no idea who Chris is. Adjusting his glasses, he says, Nice to meet you, young man… What can I do for you?

Well, it has been almost five years since we spent Labor Day at the lake. My name is Chris Bruemann. My girls and I use to come here every Labor Day, we’d rent a canoe and camp at campsite CS-2.

About that time, Shania and Christopher enter the store, and Mr. Clarke immediately recognizes Shania.

I remember now, you used to come in here with two little girls. You wanted to know what kind of bait the fish is biting. Who’s that little fellow there?

That’s my son Christopher. You remember Shania, Danielle is in back there with my wife, Tori.

It’s been a few years. As you can see, they’ve caught up with me, Mr. Clarke says, rubbing his thinning white hair

Mr. Clarke moves slowly around the counter and beckons for Chris to follow him outside. Pointing to a rocking chair, he pulls two bottles of ice-cold root beers from the barrel, handing one to Chris as he takes a seat. Chris, not really fond of root beer, accepts it anyway.

When I opened this store oh twenty years ago I had no idea I would see this kind of business. The city folk flock here all summer, causing a ruckus, racing back and forth on the road yonder. The last few years, it’s gotten so busy my son came back to help me run the place. That’s my granddaughter Jolie in there. She’s here minding the store for me. She’ll head back to college in a few weeks, he says breathlessly

I see you’ve added a lot for campers and a dock out back.

Yeah, that boy came here with so many ideas. He got them—what’ll you call them things that ski on the water?

Jet Skis? Chris says with a slight smile.

Yeah, them things. We rent them things now. They make too much darn noise for me. I remember when this lake was quiet. You hardly ever saw more than two cars pass by in an hour. Now it looks like the Daytona 500, he says, taking a sip of root beer.

Chris hardly thought that was the case, not one car has passed since they sat down on the porch.

In a few weeks, all the city folks will be gone, and the lake houses will be boarded up for the winter. I’ll shut the store up and hibernate like an old bear.

Chris sits on the porch, sipping his root beer, holding back a grimace, and rocks in the rocking chair, listening to the children’s laughter in the playground and the Jet Skis on the lake.

Where’d you say your campsite is?

I think its CS-2, Chris replies.

Mr. Clarke calls Jolie as Tori opens the door with an arm full of bags. Chris takes the bags and silently insists she take the bottle of root beer.

Where are the girls? Chris asks Tori.

They’re inside. I let them take care of getting the bait, she says, taking a drink

Jolie, tell your dad to drop off a motorboat at CS-2. Tell him I said no charge.

Mr. Clarke, that won’t be necessary, let me pay for the boat.

Do as I say, Jolie.

Chris offers to pay once more, but Mr. Clarke isn’t hearing it. The entire time Chris sat on the porch, not one car went by.

*     *     *

Shortly after they started unpacking the camping gear, the sound of a small motorboat grows louder. Christopher runs over to the lake’s edge to greet the man, obviously Mr. Clarke’s son. Tori is frantic when she sees how close Christopher is to the water’s edge and scolds Christopher with instructions to never get that close to the water again. But Chris assures her this part of the lake’s edge is shallow, evident when the young man kills the engine some twenty-five yards from shore and begins pulling the boat toward the campsite. The tanned muscular young man wearing board shorts and a tank top hops from the small boat, making his way toward the shore.

Hi, Mr. Bruemann, here is your boat. My grandpa told me to give you this bait. He said this is what the fish are biting this time of year.

And your name is? Chris asks, extending his hand.

Jay, sir, pleased to meet you.

The resemblance between Jolie and Jay are remarkable. They both have the same round face, except his hair is sandy blond. Just as Jay is handing Chris the bait, Danielle emerges from the tent. Jay is about to say something when he notices Danielle and his words trail off to a whisper. Normally Chris would take offense to a young man looking at his girls in that fashion, but he held back because Danielle is growing up and leaving for college soon.

This is my wife, Tori, Chris says.

Pleased to meet you, Ms. Bruemann, Jay says, almost without looking.

As Jay extends his hand, it’s quite obvious he’s focused on Danielle and quickly offers to help her unload the truck.

About an hour later, Chris is gathering wood for the fire and biting his lip each time Danielle giggles.

The boy can’t be that funny! Chris says to Tori.

She’s just a little infatuated.

Daddy, Jay has offered to show me and Shania how to operate the boat. Is it all right? Danielle interrupts.

Chris looks at Tori as she stands close by with a large question mark on her face and a slight smile. Chris contemplates the question for several seconds while looking directly at Jay who got the message instantly.

Don’t worry, sir, they’ll be safe with me. We’ll keep our life jackets on at all times.

After what seems like eternity…

Well… I guess it’ll be okay. While you’re out there, you may as well try and catch dinner. Be careful and be back here before dark.

Immediately, Christopher began protesting! When he asks Jay if he could go, Chris and Tori are surprised when Jay agrees to take him along as well. When the boat leaves the shallow edges of the lake, Tori pulls a bottle of wine from the cooler.

A few hours later, Chris and Tori emerge from the tent after a well-deserved and long-awaited nap. The setting sun is hidden by clouds on the horizon, casting a fiery orange reflection across the lake. Chris is relieved when he hears the familiar sound of the small motorboat heading toward the campsite. Positive they’d come back empty-handed, he pulls a pack of hot sausage links for him and hamburgers for everyone else from the cooler and fires up the grill. When Jay kills the boat’s engine, Tori turns just in time to see Christopher leap from the boat imitating Jay.

Jay, you care to stay for dinner? We got hot link sausages and hamburgers, Chris says.

Thank you, but I thought we could eat these instead, Jay says, holding out a string of lake trout.

Well, look at them. Young man, you catch ‘em, you clean ‘em. I’m going to have myself a beer.

Daddy, I caught one! Christopher says.

Well, good for you, son. Now go clean it so we can eat dinner. I’ll put some beans on and get the frying pan ready.

He seems to be a nice young man, Tori says.

All boys are ‘nice’ young men until they got your daughters alone. Then those ‘nice’ boys turn into little eight-handed monsters!

That’s right. I remember our first date, Mr. Hands.

What you talking about, Tori? I was the perfect gentleman. I only smacked your bottom once.

Christopher Bruemann, you did no such thing!

Danielle and Shania quickly remind Chris they all caught a fish, which meant he had to wash the dishes. He lives up to the bet, rounds up all the paper plates, and drops it off at the central dumpsters. When camping, the last thing you want is a bear or other nocturnal creatures wondering into your tent, looking for food in the middle of the night.

When Chris comes back, Tori and the others are sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows and eating s’mores. Chris figures he’d be seeing more of Jay and decides it’s time to ask the hard questions, questions that every father wants to know.

Jay, what do you do for a living? you got a job? go to school?

Yes, Dad, he’s a sophomore at UI. He’s going to—

Tori and Chris look at one another.

Danielle, let Jay speak please, Tori says.

Oh, sorry, go ahead, Jay, Danielle replies shyly.

Yes, sir, I’m a prelaw student at UI.

You working a summer job to pay for college?

No, sir, I have an academic scholarship. My sister and I come here to help my grandpa with the store.

Are you twins? Tori asks

Yes, ma’am, she’s older by five minutes, and believe me, she lets me hear that almost every day.

After a long pause, Jay realizes the late hour and thanks Chris and Tori for dinner.

Well, it’s getting late and I should be getting back now. Sir, I was wondering if it would be okay if Danielle and Shania could come by the store tomorrow. I’d love to show them how to ride the Jet Skis, Jay asks.

I want to ride too! Christopher screams.

"Sorry, buddy, you’re not