The Painting

#10 Inspiration - Inspiration (Part 1)

True to my word I kept Lyle out of my thoughts as I kept busy with work. I'd even gone out of my way to participate in Evelyn and Dania's line of gossip which continued to focus on the impending affair between Mrs. McCarthy the man who I helped identify as Mr. Jones.

I told the girls about the men's reluctance to relinquish their first names and they naturally concluded Mr. Jones and Mr. Smith must be in the witness protection program, either that or foreign royalty.

I went along with it as I waxed the sturdy oak tables until it came time to collect my triple load of laundry from the clothesline. Our dryers were as good as gone during the summer months as Grace encouraged us to take advantage of "our beautiful lady sun."

She was low in the sky as I traveled across the gravel driveway to the green scape beyond my cabin. Light poured out from behind the tree line a few hundred feet away. The space was about the size of a football field yet it was shaped more like a fishbowl. At the back stood a line of pines that shielded our hiking trail. To the sides ran leafy trees that became more intermittently spaced as the line curved around to where four of the five cabins stood.

The one farthest South from the Tudor home was the largest and where Grace resided. It was laid out much like mine except it had an extensive backroom that she'd made a mini master bedroom for when Tony slept over.

A dense collection of oak and maple trees separated her home from the next three guest cabins varying in size. Mine was isolated from the group and on the left side of the main house if you were giving directions from the doorway. A few trees grew in clusters around the East and West walls that made the cabin look hidden so that guests wouldn't accidentally mistake it for theirs.

I walked quickly on the partially browned grass knowing I needed to get the bed sheets taken down and folded before we set up logs for the bonfire. The air was crisp, no longer humid from last nights or any impending rains.

I knew this because Grace had spent the entire day checking weather reports and radars every ten minutes anxious that a last minute storm would ruin our bonfire. Finally after making a pro and cons list, calling Tony twice, and consulting the girls and I, she'd shut her laptop and declared brightly that we were on for tonight.

Dania and Evelyn were promptly sent into town to purchase the necessities of chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers - even though we all knew in the basement there was a large enough supply to survive the apocalypse .

I couldn't blame her for being extra prepared. Tonight was the first bonfire of the summer months and everything needed to go perfectly especially when we had a full house.

Grace started our monthly events two years ago as an attraction that brought in townies from the community as well as our own tourist guests, even the mayor came last year which was an enormous deal and got us in the local paper - Grace had it framed.

It would be an understatement to say that Grace adored the bonfires. Not only were they a giant social event that enabled her to flaunt her charming self but it brought loads of publicity for the B&B.

All treats and yard games were free but we put up a jar at the entrance that asked folks to make a donation so that we could fund our parties. Most nights we broke even, but Grace expected that tonight's was sure to be our biggest yet and with the large number of folks coming we might even expect to make a small profit - which of course wasn't her top priority but it sure as hell didn't hurt.

Personally, I couldn't get myself to a Grace level excitement about the bonfire - not that I could ever come close - but I didn't mind them too much. I loved being outside at night, but because of my intense work schedule I usually went straight to sleep after my shifts. Leaving me no time to sit out on my matchbox sized porch to stargaze or bask in a full moon's glow. Guests mostly fended for themselves which allowed me - even though I was technically on hand - a night to relax. Often I'd go off to a quieter patch of the green scape and lay down to watch the stars until someone inevitably called for me.