Page 58 of Final Vendetta

We etched a story in sand, hearts alight,

Return to that spot near the jetty rocks tonight.

P.S. - There’s a driver waiting in the lobby to take you wherever you need to go.

A smile spread on my lips as memories flooded back from a birthday years ago when Gideon surprised me with a scavenger hunt around Atlanta. Or Samuel did. But they were no longer two separate entities. They were the same.

As I sat in the back of a dark sedan, the driver Gideon hired chatted amiably while I attempted to reel in my excitement over what might be waiting for me at the end of the scavenger hunt. But I didn’t want to rush this. I wanted to enjoy this journey. Savor each meticulously planned clue.

Less than ten minutes later, the driver dropped me off near a beach access road that led to the jetty. I climbed out and headed toward the sound of crashing waves. Removing my shoes, I relished in the feel of the cool sand between my toes. It alwayscomforted me. Reminded me of the early mornings in Hawaii when Lachlan and I would surf together.

The wind whipped strands of hair around my face as I trekked along the shoreline. In the distance, a series of large rocks lined the sand and continued into the ocean.

During high tide, they were often hidden beneath the water, but it was low tide now, giving me the perfect view of the various rocks, pelicans and seagulls perched on top, preening their feathers with graceful movements.

I scanned the area, unsure what I was looking for. If this was anything like the last scavenger hunt, Gideon would have left me a clue somewhere.

But where?

I continued searching, knowing he would have made it obvious but not overly conspicuous. Then I saw it. A cork.

But not just any cork.

It belonged to a bottle ofOpus OneCabernet Sauvignon.

Grinning to myself, I picked it up, revealing a small note tied to it that had been buried in the sand. I quickly untied it with the enthusiasm of a kid at Christmas so I could read the next clue.

It wasn’t the trinket but laughter we shared,

In a shop where the scent of the ocean hung near.

Among treasures of shells and souvenirs bright,

Find the place where I knew you were my light.

Shoving the cork and the clue into my purse, I darted back down the beach, hopping into my chauffeured car and telling the driver where to go.

When I arrived at the souvenir shop that Gideon and I would always visit, regardless of how tacky the merchandise was, I wandered through aisles of overpriced trinkets and cheesy t-shirts. This place was almost exactly as I remembered it, right down to the gaudy dishtowels that said “You’re Shore Acting Like a Beach Today”.

As I passed a rack of personalized license plate keychains, I nearly continued walking, but something made me stop.

My fingers skimmed the rows, half-smiling at the old annoyance of never finding my name on anything like this. Not with a name like Imogene.

But then I froze.

There it was — a keychain with my name.

And attached to it was another rolled-up piece of paper.

On a bench for two as the light softly fell,

Where the colors of dusk cast their radiant spell.

A promise was formed, though unspoken it stayed,

Return to the spot where my heart was swayed.

I knew where to go in a heartbeat. One of our favorite spots — a bench at the ruins of an old plantation.

---