Page 3 of By Candlelight

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Good. Fridge and pantry are stocked with non-perishables and drinks. Bring anything else you need. And just take the trash out when you leave.”

“Will do, man, thank you.”

Sam tilted his head in acknowledgment.

“It’s really no problem, man,” he said, and then strode back to the counter to grab his drink.

It was true, I’d been plenty cynical lately. But even I could admit this kindness from a friend—no, family—had lifted my spirits. At least a little bit. I finished my tea, then headed out to grab some groceries for my new temporary digs.

two

MIA

It was early evening,but already dark by the time I arrived in Moon Harbor. Light snowflakes had begun to dot the windshield of my Jeep. I said a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens for the good sense to buy this vehicle in the first place. The four wheel drive would come in handy soon enough. According to the CozyHost listing and the owner herself, the cottage I’d rented for the week sat on a dirt road, and the paved ones were already slick.

I shook my head and turned down the music so I could concentrate. The host, Alex, had given me very specific instructions in case my navigation didn’t work, and as it turned out, I needed them. But after following her steps, I soon pulled off onto a long driveway leading to a well-deserved getaway haven.

My headlights rounded a curve and the cottage appeared before me. A smile broke out on my face. It was quaint, beautiful,private.With the snow coming down and the various garden lights shining along the front, it looked like a winter postcard. It was everything I’d hoped for.

I parked and grabbed my bags, hurrying to the front to follow the directions and grab the key from the lockbox. Inside was welcoming, and surprisingly warm. Alex must have been by earlier to turn the heat on for me. Another little detail that would make this a five-star stay. A small light was on in the main hallway, but otherwise, the place was dark and quiet. I set my main bag down by the door and started back toward where I assumed the kitchen would be to unpack the groceries I’d brought.

Just like the listing promised, the fridge was well-stocked with sparkling waters, sodas, and condiments. I was surprised to see bacon, eggs, and a steak in the meat drawer. Another extra perk I mentally recorded to the list. I added my own groceries and then snooped in the cabinets, seeing they were already filled with pancake mix, oats, and various canned goods. How perfect.

With another satisfied smile and a shiver of giddiness, I went back to collect my bag. The cottage was cozy as promised, even at two stories tall. I lugged my suitcase up the stairs, flipping the hallway light switch as I passed by the extra guest room. Aside from a dresser along the back wall and some nautical decor, it was empty, unusual for a CozyHost property, but Alex had explained that the previous guest had ruined the mattress and she was awaiting a new one. Perhaps that’s what led to the last-minute cancellation that got me the reservation. I assured her it was just me, so one bed was perfectly fine.

Passing the bathroom in the middle of the hall, I peeked in, excited to see a newly renovated shower. The glass walls were pristine and the sea glass green tiles added a fun flair to the nautical theme throughout the rest of the cottage. Ooh, this was turning out to be great for my article, but even greater for my mental health.

I’d been needing a getaway, especially after my ex-boyfriend Charles up and disappeared on me.What a waste of six months. I stopped and shook my head. Charles was not who he claimed to be, so it was no use mourning the relationship. And I refused to spend one more second overanalyzing what was not meant to be. That was a problem of mine. Overanalyzing. I did it with everything. But I was newly determined to break the habit.

Putting Charles out of my mind—for now—I walked into the main bedroom and sighed. One of those good, happy, life-is-amazing sighs, complete with puppy dog eyes.It was perfect.The canopy bed sat against the left wall, sheer curtains draping over the mahogany. White linens covered the mountain of pillows and a puffy cream duvet sat on top like a cloud. A wing-backed chair—the same sea glass green as the bathroom tiles—sat in the corner. Paintings of stormy seas and lighthouses lined the white walls. And my favorite part, the thing I knew I’d love as soon as I saw it in the pictures on the CozyHost app, was the massive window seat, complete with a fluffy velvet cushion and a pile of books on a nearby shelf.

Since it was still dark, all I saw in the sparkling-clean glass was my own reflection and the room around me, but I knew come morning, the view would be of the backyard and surrounding pine forest. I looked forward to losing myself in a book, only occasionally looking up from the story to see the trees around me and nothing else. No city lights, no bustling businessmen, no Charles. Ugh. No. Seriously, NO Charles. I needed to get him out of my head.

I rolled my suitcase to the dresser and unpacked. I always unpacked when I went away. My friends always made fun of me for it, but I hated living out of a suitcase, even if it was only for a few days. I slipped my jeans and sweaters into the bottom drawer, then my T-shirts and leggings in the middle drawer. I giggled as I looked at what remained.

I had brought my sexiest underwear for a solo trip to Maine in the dead of winter. I didn’t know what compelled me. But after six months of feeling…less than wanted by he-who-shall-not-be-named, I decided I needed to feel sexy again. Even if it was only for myself.

I went out to the fanciest lingerie store in Charlotte and bought myself a whole new underwear wardrobe. Frilly lace thongs, silk panties, matching bras, even sexy teddies and slips to use as pajamas—entirely inappropriate for the cold Maine winter nights, but some things were just worth it. And me discovering my sexy side and self-worth was one of those things.

Even if no one else saw them, at leastI’dknow how good I looked. And hopefully that would get me out of this stupid funk I was in since Char—no. Not going there. Maybe I needed one of those rubber bands people wear around their wrist to snap themselves every time they think of a detrimental thought. He definitely counted as detrimental. But alas! I was on vacation, so I needed to start acting like it.

I carefully placed all of my sexy new underthings in the top drawer and stowed my suitcase in the closet. It was time to go exploring.

* * *

The flurries of snow had stopped by the time I got back in my jeep and headed into Moon Harbor proper. It was only 6:30 but everything was so dark and quiet, it seemed like midnight in the outskirts of town. It was peaceful, but as someone coming from the city, it was a little unnerving. I shook off the feeling. I came here for a relaxed and peaceful getaway, but also toget awayfrom Charles’s criminal cronies. This little town in the middle of nowhere was perfect for that. I suppose I simply needed to learn to appreciate the quiet.

As I got closer to downtown, though, I felt the thrum of life surround me. Pulling onto Harbor Street was like stepping into one of those Hallmark Christmas movies that I watched every year.

All of the tree trunks along the sidewalk were lit up with white twinkle lights. Garlands of Evergreen swirled around the lamp posts capped off by gigantic red ribbons at the top. The flurries of snow hadn’t stuck to the ground but the moisture they brought left reflections of the lights on the streets, somehow making it all the more magical.

I parked my jeep in the first parking spot I found and got out to walk along the cobblestone sidewalk. Families in wool peacoats and puffed up parkas surrounded me, drinking hot chocolate, licking candy canes and admiring the shop windows, all decorated for the holiday.

I stopped in front of one particularly cute shop called Moonbeam Jewels and admired the window display. Sparkling white fake snow covered the interior of the window and display shelf. Crystal necklaces, bracelets, and rings sat scattered across the snow, spilling out of an overturned treasure chest. A wooden ship’s bow stuck up from the snow, like it had run aground or gotten stuck in the ice. The whole window was a perfect nod to the New England town and its seafaring ways. I was charmed all the more.

A few shops down, I saw the Witch’s Brew, a cafe I’d read about on a competing travel blog and knew I’d be checking out. It was a little late for coffee, but I figured a hot chocolate couldn’t hurt. I stepped inside, the jingle bell above the door, a warm welcome to the space. It was every bit as adorable and Instagram-worthy as the photos online showed. But the Christmas decor pushed it over the top in the best way.

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