The Restarting Point

  Copyright © 2021 by Marci Bolden

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design by Okay Creations

  ebook layout by Lori Colbeck

  eISBN-13: 978-1-950348-56-5

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Coming Soon

  Also by Marci Bolden

  About the Author

  For Laura Lou

  One

  As Jade Kelly slid from her silver sedan, the high-pitched melody of windchimes rang with an early morning breeze. The wind that lifted strands of hair from her forehead lacked the scents she was so accustomed to. Rather than smelling of exhaust fumes, the air was fresh. Clean. There were no sounds of the city, only the song of the chimes and chirping of birds.

  The scene should have been serene, however, as Jade compared the address on her rental agreement to the cabin in front of her, the fresh air and sounds of nature were dulled by her growing sense of frustration.

  The cabin was not what she was expecting.

  While she had noticed the ratings were closer to mediocre than that of the higher end places she would usually reserve, she’d been taken by the views in the photographs. Standing outside the cabin was a powerful reminder of why she’d always been more thoughtful than spontaneous. Despite knowing to do thorough research before clicking the “Reserve Now” button, she’d been so excited to take the trip, she’d jumped in without proper research. That wasn’t like her. Now, she was mentally kicking herself for not digging deeper into the reviews. Others likely knew and tried to warn unsuspecting vacationers that Tranquility Cabin did not match its description.

  The images she’d seen online were similar to the wood-planked shack, but she’d been expecting something larger, something significantly larger than this shoebox. However, the turquoise shutters and door matched the image on Jade’s printout. She looked from the structure in front of her to the paper again. The owner had described the cabin as “cozy with an enchanting view,” but the building she was staring at was more like “minuscule and within walking distance of a view.”

  Jade headed down the sloped gravel path toward the water, hoping to find the images that had won her over. The path ended at a sandy stretch of beach that led into a small tree-shrouded cove, and she groaned with disappointment. Though the inlet was calm and quiet, this was not what had been shared on the website. About fifty yards to her right, the mouth widened to show the more expansive body of Chammont Lake that had been shared on the website.

  As someone who had spent her entire career in marketing, Jade was tempted to call the owner of the rental—Darby Zamora, according to the agreement—and congratulate him on a successful, though somewhat shady, description. Had the listing for this “cabin” been honest, Jade never would have locked herself in for a week-long rental.

  For the first time since waving goodbye to her husband, Jade was glad Nick hadn’t been able to join her on this trip to Chammont Point. When he’d sat her down to explain that he couldn’t take their vacation because of a work conflict, Jade had intended to reschedule. Their two grown sons had already backed out of what was supposed to be a family vacation.

  However, Nick had insisted she go without him. He’d told her repeatedly how much she needed to rest, recalibrate, and refocus. Those had been the keywords for his sales pitch when he’d sent her to the small lake town on her own.

  One of the first vacations they’d taken when the kids were young was to this little-known vacation spot in eastern Virginia. Though Chammont Point was just an hour away from their home in Fairfax, they’d only visited the area once. Funny how Jade had mostly remembered the mosquito bites and sunburns. It was only in the last year or so when talking about memories and looking at old photos had become a regular part of their lives that she’d learned to cherish their time in Chammont Point. She’d recently developed the habit of clinging to the precious few times they’d spent focused on being a family rather than bills, careers, and planning for the distant future. This vacation was her attempt at making new memories, at restarting their lives as a family instead of as four people hovering in the same orbit. She’d learned the hard way just how important family was to her.

  One bright and sunny afternoon a little over a year ago, Jade had sat next to her husband while a doctor said one sentence that had changed her life forever. A few words had given Jade an unexpected wakeup call that the future she’d always seemed to be working for wasn’t guaranteed. She’d had to learn to focus on the now, the moment, the things she had rather than the things that might come to be. Staring down death had changed everything. Her focus had shifted, and she’d become almost desperate to reconnect with her husband of over two decades and form deeper bonds with her sons.

  When Nick had suggested they take a vacation to celebrate Jade’s recovery from colorectal cancer, he said they could go anywhere she wanted. He was probably expecting her to plan a trip to London or New York City, since Jade had always preferred fast-paced destinations over places like this. But she’d chosen to return to Chammont Point and the lake that had been so prominent in the photos of that first vacation many years ago.

  He’d been confused over her choice until she’d explained how much she’d come to cherish the memories they’d made there. Xander and Owen had learned to water ski on Chammont Lake. They’d all sat by a fire and roasted marshmallows while they shared stories and jokes. Jade couldn’t remember a time when they’d felt more like a family than their time exploring the small town and playing in the water. She wanted more of that.

  After her recent health scare, the bright lights of Broadway and a city filled with endless dining options no longer had the same appeal to her. She’d fought hard for this second chance. Spending it in crowded theaters and noisy restaurants seemed like a waste of time when she could enjoy the quiet lake with her husband. Of course, now she just had the quiet lake, but maybe that was better.

  Having a week on the lake should help her figure out what she needed to do to make the most of every day she was lucky enough to live. All she knew was that her future no longer included clawing her way higher up the corporate ladder.

  As she neared the tiny structure she’d be calling home for the next week, Jade had to chuckle at the unexpected turn of events. Not only had she overpaid for the cabin, but almost every plan she’d made had to change now that she was here on her own. She walked up the stairs to the porch and looked at the turquoise-and-white chevron-patterned mat where the owner told her the key would be. If there wasn’t one, she would have a good excuse to call and make sure she was in the right place.

  She lifted the corner and found the key exactly where she was told it would be. “Damn it,” she whispered.

  After unlocking the deadbolt, she pushed the door open and poked her head inside the living space. Her frown deepened when she spotted the turquoise cabinetry. The brightly pai
nted shelving filled the wall of the so-called kitchen, which was nothing more than a cubbyhole with a fridge and a stovetop. Funny how the blue-green accents had seemed so charming in the pictures. In person, they looked more like failed attempts at making this dump a cheerful place.

  According to the listing, the cabin could sleep up to six people. Looking around, Jade couldn’t quite figure out how six people would even fit comfortably inside the living room. Standing in the middle of the room, she noticed a built-in ladder attached to one wall. Her gaze followed the wooden structure to a loft. Ah. There were likely beds crammed up there for extra sleeping space.

  Slowly spinning, she took in the strange mix of décor. The turquoise cabinets stood out against the scratched and dented white fridge. In the dining area, a pine carved table and benches were directly under a chandelier made of deer antlers. However, a vibrant turquoise that matched the cabinets with a retro atomic pattern that had been popular in the 1960s covered the cushions on the two benches. That fabric had also been used for cloth napkins ornately displayed on the tabletop and two pillows on the faux leather sofa.

  Jade tilted her head as she wondered if the odd mixture of The Jetsons and Little House on the Prairie decor was intentional. She determined the space had to be in the midst of a transition, but she couldn’t decide if it was being turned from mid-century modern to mountain lodge or vice versa.

  “Cozy,” Jade muttered, recalling the listing. “I guess that’s a word for it.”

  Tempted as she was to call the owner and dispute the amount he’d charged her, Jade pushed the thought away. Yes, the ad had been rife with half-truths, but she should have done more thorough research. Fighting over accommodations wasn’t at the top of her list of things to do on this vacation. She’d been through enough in the last year. This was her break from reality, her chance to recharge, realign, and restart her life. Her intent was to spend time walking the beach and learning to paddleboard.

  Out of habit, she ran her fingers along the ends of her pixie cut. Her fiery-red hair used to reach beyond her shoulders. When the strands grew back after the chemo, her once full hair fell flat. She hoped as it grew, the natural waves would return. But until then she was stuck with poker straight strands that, for the first time in her life, needed products and equipment to add lift and style. She hadn’t quite mastered how to do that, so her hair tended to be limp. She used to take so much pride in her hair. Now, she was simply happy to have hair.

  So, no. She would not call and complain. She was going to embrace this little cabin as a part of the adventure she had planned for Life 2.0. When…if… Nick could join her, they’d laugh together over the unexpected arrangements and remind themselves they were in Chammont Point to leave the last year of stress and medical scares behind them.

  Jade was healthy now. She had a second chance many with her illness never got. She was going to take it, and she wasn’t going to kick off her new life by whining about how manipulative the owner of this cabin had been in the listing. Her reboot vacation was one week. She could stay in this mismatched shack for seven days.

  Though the cabin was small, there was a second door in the kitchen area. She had to yank twice before it opened, but when she stepped outside, she found herself on the balcony with a view of the lake rather than the cove. Her smile returned. Though the larger body of water was far from the view the images had led her to believe, Chammont Lake shimmered in the distance. She could walk to the nicer beach within a few minutes. The sun sparkled down between the blowing leaves of the sassafras and red oaks, creating a canopy that helped her connect with her budding sense of peace. Like the interior of the cabin, this wasn’t what she’d been expecting, but she could definitely make do.

  As Jade inhaled the lake air, her stress and disappointment continued slipping away. She was here for the water, the hiking, and the slower pace of the small town. The cabin was just a place to sleep.

  She walked to the banister and rested her hands on the cracked and weathered wood. There wasn’t a single car horn or airplane or siren to be heard. Birds chirped happily, bugs buzzed, and if she listened closely, she could hear the faint sound of water lapping the shore.

  Hoping to get a better look at the lake in the distance, she leaned forward and bent at the waist to see under the branches. Her nice, relaxing, meditative breath came to a startling end at the sound of cracking wood. A scream of surprise surged from Jade and echoed around the cove as the banister gave way, sending her hurtling toward the ground.

  Like some kind of surreal survival instinct kicking in, her mind flashed to those action movies her sons watched so often. In the seconds between falling through the banister and crashing to the patchy grass below, she decided the only way to come out of this unscathed was to do one of those rolling landing things she’d seen Angelina Jolie do a thousand times on-screen.

  Jade managed to get her hands and feet in place, expecting to flip over and somehow land in a pre-sprint pose that would magically absorb the pain. If she were a stunt double in Hollywood, she might have nailed it. Instead, she landed hard, twisting her left ankle and bashing her face into the patchy grass. Since she didn’t roll, or even come close to it, her chest smashed into the ground as hard as her cheek had. The oxygen pushed from her lungs in a painful rush, leaving her in a gasp, and her left ankle instantly started to throb.

  She lay there, too stunned to move, trying to figure out exactly where she’d gone wrong with her landing and if anything had been seriously damaged in the process. Damn it. This hadn’t exactly been a stellar start to her vacation. Every attempt at breathing she made felt like a weight pressed on her chest. The wind had been knocked out of her and her ankle hurt like hell, but Jade was certain the only thing broken was her intent to make the best out of this stupid vacation.

  “Don’t be dead,” a woman said from what seemed like a million miles away. “Don’t be dead.” Then she said something in a language Jade didn’t understand. She thought it might have been Spanish, but the voice was so far away and the ringing in her ears was so loud, she couldn’t be sure.

  Seconds later, someone grabbed Jade’s shoulder and flipped her onto her back. She barely had time to process what was happening before a woman dressed in a blindingly incandescent yellow shirt leaned over her. Firetruck red hair had been curled into victory rolls on top of the woman’s head, making her look like a comic book throwback to the 1940s. The woman’s eyeliner flared out into long wings, and her lipstick matched her hair.

  Jade squinted her eyes, mostly out of confusion. Perhaps she’d hit her head harder than she’d realized.

  “Don’t worry. I know CPR,” the woman announced and then took a deep breath.

  Jade tried to explain that she didn’t need CPR, but she hadn’t caught her breath yet. Her protest came out soundless. Not even a whisper left her lips. However, she swatted the woman’s hand away before she could pinch Jade’s nose.

  As Jade attempted to sit, the colorfully dressed woman pushed her back, hands planted hard on her shoulders, and stared into her eyes.

  “Don’t move,” the woman warned with a dire tone. “You could have internal bleeding.”

  “I don’t,” Jade said, though her words were barely above a breathy hiss.

  “You don’t know that,” she insisted.

  Jade took another deep, painful breath. Though her diaphragm still wasn’t working right, she got enough air into her to say, “I’m fine. Who are you?”

  The woman pressed a hand with long red fingernails to her chest and said, “I live next door. I was on my way over to introduce myself when I saw you fall. You looked like a baby bird testing out your wings. Except they usually fly, you know. You just kind of…” She slapped her hands together to demonstrate Jade’s far from graceful landing.

  Jade scowled and turned her attention to her palms. More specifically, she focused on the sand and blood speckled scrapes she’d earned from her impact with the ground. Her right wrist was pulsating, but she could
make a fist without too much struggle. Moving her exam down to her knees, she tentatively touched the scratches intermingling with the spatter of freckles on her pale knees. However, it was her left ankle that really caught her interest. Rotating the joint made her jolt with pain.

  “Oh my God,” the stranger said, her voice once again filled with panic. “It’s broken.” Rising onto her knees, she called out, “She’s broken her leg.”

  Jade turned to see who she was talking to, expecting a crowd. There was no one. They were alone.

  “Don’t worry,” the woman continued, returning her focus to Jade instead of…whatever…she’d been talking to a moment ago. “Chammont Point has a wonderful hospital. Real doctors and everything.”

  The thought made Jade cringe and her entire body shiver. The last thing she wanted to see on vacation was a doctor with icy hands and needles. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

  “You could have busted your spleen,” the woman informed her.

  Jade stopped examining her wounds to look at the caricature in front of her. “What?” She shook her head before the insanity could continue. “I didn’t hurt my spleen.”

  The woman sank back and lowered her eyes. “You might have.” She slowly lifted yellow-painted eyelids with unbelievably long false lashes. Though she looked like a bag of candy-coated chocolates with all her bright, clashing colors, she had the puppy dog eyes thing down. She pouted her red lips slightly and tilted her chin, and Jade’s frustration fizzled. “You could have serious injuries that haven’t manifested yet. Like a concussion or…”

  “A ruptured spleen?” Jade finished.

  “It could happen. I saw a TV show once where—”