Return to the Lighthouse

Esther receives an assignment to return to Rockland - and the lighthouse.

Written for: Lodestar Contest ▶︎

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The Lodestar Contest  (13+) Looking for a guiding light. Monthly short story rounds from July through December. #2130938 by Amalthea

December Prompt:
Lighthouse: Get inspired by this song: "Lighthouse" by Patrick Watson

Word Count: 4982

Rain tapped on the window pane. Esther looked up from her paper and pen. Her gaze drifted to watch a man help a woman step out of a car. He held an umbrella for her – a perfect gentleman. She sighed. Jean-Pierre would never do that for her, but Damian would.

Her thoughts turned to the lighthouse keeper she’d met six weeks ago doing courier work. They’d help guide a smuggler’s fishing boat to an abandoned lighthouse together. She’d never been so tired or worn out, but she found the work had been exhilarating and she had to admit Damian had found a way into her thoughts since she had left him. Was it the thrill of helping a smuggler’s boat? Part of it was. The other part was Damian himself. The enigmatic lighthouse keeper had more than one secret and she couldn’t shake him from her daydreams. He had been a perfect gentleman even though she couldn’t deny the ebb and flow of subtle sexual energy between them. She wondered what it would be like to run her fingers through his thick wavy hair, to put her hand on his chest and feel his hard muscles – to kiss his full, pouty mouth and draw in his scent…

“Esther, are you done with that balance sheet?”

She looked up. Her father stood at the doorway, arms crossed.

She tore her gaze from the window, looked at the paper and then at her father. “Sorry, Papa. Almost.”

“Tamales are in demand and Mrs. Perez wants to sell me some. I could make a tidy profit on the upcharge.”

Esther smiled. Mrs. Perez’s tamales were delicious – a Christmas staple growing up. “Then you should buy some, Papa.”

“Mija, I don’t know how much I can buy until you finish that balance sheet.”

“I’ll have it done in twenty minutes.”

“I’m holding you to it.” He turned around and left.

Esther went back to work adding and subtracting. She was taking accounting in college. Numbers didn’t necessarily thrill her, but she’d been counting them since she was twelve, when her Mama was doing the accounting for their bodega. Unfortunately, her mother’s vision wasn’t as good with age so Esther would reconcile the balance sheet at the end of the week while her mother worked in the front with Papa. Esther’s younger brother, Diego, also helped out in the bodega stocking shelves. She was doing good in her classes. Math and accounting were more black and white than words that were confusing at best. She had another year at school and she’d have her degree. Her parents helped a little with tuition, but her courier work really paid off the balance.

The work now finished, Esther determined her father had an extra hundred dollars to work with. The Christmas season had just started, and it was always a busy time that brought in extra money. The month looked promising.

She left the back office and found her father in the front talking to Mrs. Perez.

“Papa, good news,” said Esther. “You can buy lots of tamales.” She paused and smiled at Mrs. Perez. “Hola, Mrs. Perez.”

“Hola, Esther. Look at you – you’ve become a very pretty young woman.”

Esther felt her cheeks get warm. “Thank you, Mrs. Perez.”

“How much is a lot?” asked her Papa.

“One hundred dollars.”

Mrs. Perez’s smile widened. Her Papa whistled.

The door jingled, and Sancho, the cat peered around the candy bin. Jean-Pierre walked in. Her Papa frowned.

Jean-Pierre shook off the excess rain from his coat, folded up his umbrella and took off his backpack. He placed the umbrella in a nearby holder and grinned at Esther as he walked over to her.

Her Papa put his hands on his hips. ‘Why do you still harass my daughter?”

“Papa!” Esther protested.

“Hello, Mr. Cruz. I’ve got a shipment of spiced, ah,” Jean-Pierre paused and coughed, “ah, rum coming in tomorrow. That and cigars as well as other tobacco products from Cuba.”

Her Papa softened. “All right, we’ll talk, but you need to think about—”

“Enough, Papa,” said Esther sternly. Jean-Pierre was complicated and he made it clear there was no romantic future for them. Still, she had known him for years, and they both discovered neither could let the other out of their lives. They’d agreed to remain friends and it was something her Papa couldn’t understand, though Esther had to admit, it was hard being ‘just friends’ with a man who said marriage wasn’t right for him.

Jean-Pierre turned his attention to Esther. “Are you busy this weekend?”

“I’m studying for finals.”

“We need some courier work done. Nothing hard, but it will take the weekend.”

“Oh? Where to?”

“Rockland, Maine again.”

Her eyes lit up. “To the lighthouse?”

“No, my associate, Paul Dubois, will be at the Thorndike. He’s awaiting his next assignment and we don’t feel it will be secure sending the message by telegraph.”

“In this weather?” Her Papa interjected. “Not less than fifty.”

Jean-Pierre coughed again. “Fifty?”

“Yes.” Her Papa crossed his arms.

Jean-Pierre looked at Esther and pursed his lips.

“You heard my father – fifty. I’m good at what I do,” Esther reminded him.

“All right.” Jean-Pierre took his wallet out of his pocket and produced a fifty dollar bill. Esther smiled.

“When do I leave?” she asked. She would plan to study for her finals during the train ride.

“You’re on the first train out of Union Station tomorrow, so it’s an early call.” He walked to his backpack and pulled out a medium sized manilla envelope. “Your tickets, and the letter for Mr. Dubois are inside.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and pulled out her itinerary. The train left at 5:45 a.m. with an arrival in Rockland at 3:30 p.m. There was a change and layover in Boston. She was to meet Dubois at 5:30 p.m. at the Thorndike, spend the night, and leave for New York at 8:30 a.m on Sunday morning. There was not much time to see Damian. She supposed she could send him a telegram, but would he get it in time?

“I’ll take you to the station,” said her father. “What time do you leave?”

“5:45 a.m.”

Her father frowned and glared at Jean-Pierre. “Let’s talk in the back about your shipment and other things.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Esther, make arrangement with Mrs. Perez for her tamales.”

“Yes, Papa.” She motioned for Mrs. Perez to join her at the candy counter as there was more room and her mother was busy with a customer. As soon as she was done with the task, she’d send Damian a telegram and start packing her bags for her trip tomorrow.

**********

Damian entered the kitchen and went to the sink to wash his hands. He’d just finished inspecting the Fresnel lens. It had been raining pretty steady since eight in the morning, and the grounds were starting to get waterlogged. He was happy to report the light was still in good working order.

He went to the stove and put on a pot of coffee. As it was heating up, he detected the motor of a car approaching. Curious. He wasn’t expecting anyone. The doorbell rang. Damian hurried to the door and opened it only to discover Johnny.

“Come on in, get dry.” Damian motioned with his hand.

Johnny came in and stomped his boots on the mat. “It’s miserable out there. Old man Clayton got his car stuck in the mud by Route One. My Dad and a couple of his men had to tow him out.” Johnny paused. “Got something warm?”

“Coffee. Come on.” Damian motioned for Johnny to follow. “What brings you out here?”

“You got a telegram.”

“Oh?” They entered the kitchen and Damian went to the cupboard, pulling out two cups. “Couldn’t it have waited?”

“Mr. Smith thought it might be important to you.” Johnny sat down and rubbed his hands on his arms.

Damian placed sugar, milk and the coffee mugs on the table. “Why?”

“It’s from that girl.” Johnny dug into his pockets and placed it on the table.

Esther. Slowly, Damian sat down and blew out a small breath at the thought of her. He recalled her scent – sweet jasmine. Her soft olive complexion and smile did something to his pheromones he couldn’t understand, but he had wanted to see her again after she left. Oh, Esther was no wallflower. She willingly helped him unload smuggler’s cargo. No woman had gotten under his skin as she had. There was a lot left unspoken between them.

Johnny pointed to the envelope. “You gonna’ open it?”

Damian sipped his coffee and reached for the telegram. “I will be arriving at 3:30 p.m. tomorrow. Stop. Would like to see you. Stop. I hope you left a light on for me. Stop. Thorndike, E.” He noted the timestamp was 7:30 p.m. yesterday. Checking his watch, it was now 1:30 p.m, the next day. Telegrams were typically delayed after 7 p.m. She’d be here in two hours.

“Well?” asked Johnny.

“It doesn’t say much.”

Johnny crossed his arms and arched his eyebrows. “We all thought you were sweet on her.”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “She’ll be here in two hours and would like to meet at the Thorndike.”

“It ain’t the greatest day to travel, though I suppose the train is safe enough, but if I was you, I’d leave now.”

“Now? It’s a little early.”

“The roads are getting waterlogged. If I was a betting man, Jersey Way is gonna’ flood soon.”

Damian frowned. Jersey Way was the connector to the breakwater. “If it floods, I won’t be able to get back tonight,” he paused. “Maybe I should stay here.”

“No way – you go meet that girl.” Johnny sipped his drink. “Heck, maybe it won’t flood. You never know.”

Damian drew in a breath. “Well, I just checked the lens. It should be good until tomorrow morning, but I’ll pack a bag just in case.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

Damian finished his coffee and went to his room. What was he doing rushing off like a schoolboy with a crush? He slid his hands into his pants pockets and paused in front of the mirror. Esther was the first woman that aroused him. She’d haunted his thoughts during the lonely nights of the full moon. He couldn’t deny the desire to see her again was strong – even overriding his common sense when it came to going out in this rainstorm. He adjusted the suspenders which held up his pants. No, he’d go see Esther – they’d have a nice dinner and then he’d come back to lighthouse and if Jersey Way was flooded, he’d stay overnight at the hotel and leave first thing in the morning. He grabbed his bag and started packing.

**********

Damian stood on the train platform as he watched the train slow down on approach to the platform. It was only misting now. Jersey way was indeed soaked and any more rain would flood it.

The train came to a stop, and the conductor opened the front cabin. The other doors slowly opened, and passengers began to get off. There were only a handful, and Esther followed the conductor about after a minute. He walked toward her and waved. Her serious expression turned into a smile and she waved back. She wore a brown pea coat with a scarf draped over her shoulders. Her dark curly hair fluttered in the light breeze. She carried an overnight bag.

She held out her hand, palms up as he approached and he took it, squeezing lightly. She leaned close and to his surprise, kissed him on the cheek. “Hello, Damian. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Of course I’d come.” He reached for her bag, and she released it to him. The kiss was chaise, but he had enjoyed it very much. He hadn’t expected her to take such a familiarity, but was glad she did. “It was raining pretty steady all day, but now it’s turned into a mist.”

“It was raining on the way over, as well,” she said.

Damian led them through the train station and his car. The mist had stopped, and the air was now cool. He opened the door for her and she got in. “Let’s get you settled at the Thorndike. Do you have time for a drink?”

“I do. I have to meet my contact at 5:30 in the lobby area.”

Damian turned out onto the street from the parking lot and made his way to the hotel.

“I’m surprised they didn’t use a telegram.”

“Jean-Pierre didn’t trust it.”

Damian frowned not really caring to hear another man’s name come from her lips. “Who are you meeting?”

“A Paul Dubois.”

“I’m familiar with him. He travels from here up to Canada and Luneberg, on Nova Scotia.”

Damian turned onto main street and the hotel came into view. Old man Tapper’s speakeasy was a block down and behind his old style café. Damain parked along the street, grabbed Esther’s bag and opened the door for her. She stepped out and they walked into the hotel. She approached the reception desk and was given a single room on the third floor. They took the elevator up and Esther found her room. Damian was surprised at how small it was. There was a window that overlooked main street, a bed, a desk, a chair, and a radio. The bathroom was a communal one in the hallway.

“It’s small,” remarked Damian.

“Most hotel rooms are.”

He placed his hands under his armpits. “It’s not cozy at all and you have to share the bathroom.”

“I’ll make do.”

He said nothing noting her mater-of-fact tone of voice. She placed her bag down on the chair and they went downstairs to the café which was a side room off of the lobby.

They ordered a cup of tea and small cheese and cracker tray.

“How long can you stay?” asked Damian.

“My return train leaves at 8:30 a.m. tomorrow morning.”

“That’s not much time at all.”

“Not really, but I’m glad to see you again,” she replied.

The waitress returned with their tea and crackers.

“I have to admit, I was hoping to see you again soon, too,” he said.

Esther prepped her tea and placed a spoon of honey in her cup, before looking up at Damian and smiling. “We did have a daring adventure, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” he paused. “What did you mean by leave a light on for me in your telegram?”

“It’s a little corny, huh?”

“No, but I am curious.”

She nipped at her lower lip and drew in a breath. “I think of you a lot more than I thought I would.”

“Oh?”

“I think about that night when you were lost in your nightmare. I think about how handsome you are. Your eyes are as blue as the sea,” she paused, and he noted her cheeks grew pink. “And I think about how you healed so quickly after your cut. That was unnatural.”

“Have you given any thought to my secret?”

“Only that it has to do with the physicality of you – who you are – and I find myself wanting to get to know you better,” she said the words slow and deliberate and his heart beat just a faster in his chest.

He leaned forward and held out his hand. She slid her fingers next to his. “You’re in my thoughts as well – your scent, your sweet smile, your sense of adventure and your kindness. You saw me in a vulnerable moment and weren’t repulsed.”

“Your world is so different from mine, and you’re so different from me, but I can’t explain it. I wanted this assignment so I could see you again.”

“What is your world like? You hardly mentioned it before.”

“Busy. I’m in school for accounting and I help my parents in their bodega. Everyone works hard because money is so tight. That’s why I do courier work.”

“Where is your bodega? New York City, right?”

She giggled. “South Bronx to be exact.” Then she grew a tad serious. “I had hoped you thought of me, too. Can you come down to see me sometime?”

“I can make some time in about four weeks, but not long. I have to find someone to take care of the lighthouse.”

She smiled again and leaned back in her chair, checking her watch. “Oh, I have to meet Dubois in five minutes.”

“Do you want me there?”

“I should be fine. It’s just the lobby. I left the envelope in my room. I’ll come back when I’m done.”

Damian nodded and watched her walked off. Slowly, he steeped his tea and recalled his nightmare the last time he was with Esther. “Only she can set you free.” Could Esther be that woman? He wasn’t sure, but he had to admit no woman had ever excited his pheromones as she had. She was close, but was she the one? He should go see her in New York City. It would be a challenge, but he could make it work. Hopefully, that would help him to decide if she was the one.

Damian pursed his lips and prepared a cheese cracker, leaning back in his chair. Casually, he checked his watch. Ten minutes had passed. It shouldn’t have taken this long. He waited an extra five minutes and stepped out into the lobby. No Esther and Dubois. Where was she? His adrenaline spiked. He fisted his hands. Was she alright? He walked around the area and caught her jasmine scent. A dirty sandalwood scent tried to cover it. Oh, he didn’t like this at all. Had Dubois taken her? Why hadn’t she raised her voice? Did she go willingly? That thought nagged at him.

Damian went to the café and settled the bill before picking up her scent again. He identified three distinctive male scents – one sandalwood, two full of grease. He tore out of the hotel and raced down the street following the scents. Old Man’s Tapper’s café. The speakeasy. Damian threw open the door, determination fueling his desire to find her. The host tried to approach him, but he blew him off. There were only two tables who were being served. Damian pushed open the kitchen door and flung open another door disguised as a restroom and raced into the speakeasy.

An usher tried to approach. “Hey, you can’t—”

Damian pushed him out of his way and spied Esther in a back booth next to Dubois. She appeared absolutely miserable.

He stood in front of the table, arms crossed. “Esther, do you want to be here?”

She subtly nodded her answer.

“Of course she does lighthouse keeper. She came with me willingly,” Dubois said in his heavily accented French. He motioned toward his henchmen who got out of the booth and went to grab him. Damian moved lightning fast, and smacked one of the greasy smelling men head first into the table. He flopped onto the floor. The other man tried to swing at him and Damian caught his arm in mid swing and pushed him into an empty table. The table collapsed on the floor and he rubbed his shoulder.

Damian held out his hand. “Esther.”

She went to move and Dubois pulled out a gun, pointing it at Damian. “She stays.”

“She leaves with me.” Damian didn’t flinch.

Dubois pursed his lips. “You’re not afraid of this gun, are you?”

“Not in the least, you scum. Who are you to take this woman against her will?”

“She came willingly.”

Damian’s nostrils flared, convinced Esther did not go with him willingly. He lunged over the table, smacked the gun away and grabbed Dubois by the collar. “Want me throw you across this room and wreck the bar? I assure you old man Tapper will charge you for the damage, not me.”
Dubois shook. “I’ll tell my contacts not to use you anymore.”

“You do not scare me one bit with that threat. Esther?” He glanced at her.

She shimmed out of the booth, clutching her purse and joined his side. “He had his henchmen escort me to this speakeasy.” Her voice shook a bit.

“I suspected as much.” Damian spit in Dubois’s face and then slammed his head into the table. Dubois lurched back into the booth and rubbed the side of his head.

“Have a headache?” Damian asked. It was then he noticed the rest of the patrons and even old man Tapper watching him. No one said a word.

Dubois looked at Damian, his eyes glazed over. “I’ll tell Jean—”

“You won’t tell a soul what happened to you and your henchmen in this speakeasy or I’ll ensure charges are brought for kidnapping.”
Dubois said nothing, just closed his mouth, and appeared shell shocked.

Damian turned to Esther. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, I am.” She held her head up high.

Damian walked past the bar and threw a couple of dollars toward old man Tapper. “I’m sorry. I tried to keep the damage to a minimum.”

“You did the right thing, son, especially if he brought her in here without her consent. I’m not looking for trouble,” said Tapper.

Damian nodded. “Neither am I.” He placed his hand in the small of Esther’s back as he walked out of the speakeasy, through the café, and onto the chilly street. The temperature was plunging quickly and Esther rubbed her arms.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said. “I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

“You didn’t know. Most men I meet in this line of work do not accost me,” she hesitated. “He surprised me, but I’m not ready to go back to the hotel.”

“Where then?”

“Where I’ll be safe.”

Damian ran his hand through his hair. “If Jersey Way isn’t flooded, I can take you to the lighthouse. If it is, the hotel is the only option.”
She turned to face him and placed her hand on his elbow. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He slowed and looked right at her. “Are you hurt in anyway?”

“Only my pride,” she whispered.

He looked her over, satisfied she was unharmed and escorted her to the car, hoping that Jersey Way was not flooded. They stopped by the hotel and Esther grabbed her bag. Then, they continued toward the lighthouse. Damian stayed quiet. When they came to Jersey Way, the water had only a little receded from earlier in the day, making it barely passable. He drove the car cautiously and while the water came up to the mid-tires, the car made it through. He drove onto the breakway and up to the garage. Damian got out, raised the door and drove the car in. Esther grabbed her bag and they walked into the kitchen.

She sat down in a chair and her shoulders visibly relaxed.

Damian fussed around his cupboards then turned to look at her. She appeared comfortable, yet he sensed unease as well.

“About the most I can do is make spaghetti and meat sauce.”

“That’s fine.” She smiled.

Damian began boiling water and making a simple meat sauce. Once things were cooking he sat at the table. “Would you like some water? I do have some rum or scotch.”

“Maybe a shot of scotch to settle the nerves.”

Damian prepared two shots. They clinked glasses and both slid the liquid down their throats.

Damian tucked his hands under his arms. “What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“No, I want to tell you. I gave Dubois his envelope, he read it and asked me to dinner. I told him ‘no,’ and he motioned for his men to escort me. He said we were going to a local speakeasy and he would buy me dinner for my troubles.”

“You didn’t raise your voice? I would have heard you.”

“He threatened to hit me. I thought the worst – that I would get injured and that would upset my father. I was hoping you’d figured it out.”

“Your father doesn’t approve of your work?”

“He’s not a fan of it, but he understands the money is needed – especially to finish my education.”

Damian nodded, spied the water was boiling and went to complete making the meal. They ate in silence and Esther helped to clean up after they finished. Damian showed her to the visitor’s room and ensured the radiator was turned on. Once he was satisfied that the room was heating, he assured Esther he’d get her to the train on time in the morning and retired to his room.

**********

Esther slipped on her nightgown and found a bathrobe in the closet. The events with Dubois had been upsetting. She had never been accosted like that while working a job and his threat to assault her had really spooked her. She was terrified she would be have been hit in the face and how would she explain that her father? And yet a part of her knew Damian would expect her back in a timely manner and when she didn’t return he would look for her and he would know where to look for her – with his abilities.

She got up and went to the window, peering out over the ocean. The lighthouse flashed a beam of light. The room was warm and quiet. The rain had stopped, but a gentle off shore fog was rolling in. A quiet inner peace settled over her. Calming. She sighed. What kind of life did they lead that they were all involved in smuggling alcohol in one way or another to make ends meet during this great depression? The world was upside down and it made everyone question their values. This lighthouse was an escape from the world, a backyard of sorts where she could find a peace she hadn’t known before. She wanted to share that peace with Damian. She couldn’t express just how grateful she was for his actions, but she was. He had saved her from an uncomfortable evening. He was a rock. Her rock. And here he was being a gentleman again, leaving her alone in the visitor’s room. She steeled her courage and set her shoulders. She’d never contemplated doing anything like this before, but Damian was no ordinary man and he’d come to mean something special to her.

She walked out of the room and over to his. His door was shut. A bit nervous, her hand shook as she knocked on the wood. He was right there to open it. The dim light from a candle cast deep shadows in his room.

“Esther?”

She placed her hands on his chest. His muscles were firm and hard, hinting at incredible strength. He placed his hands on her arms and stared into her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered. She leaned up and brushed her lips against his. He growled – a deep low growl and the kiss grew. She ran her hands over his chest, and his lips trailed down over her neck. Every nerve in her body was on fire.

“Damian, I don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.

He took her hand and led her to his bed. She was surprised to discover there was only one blanket when this time of year she used two.
She sat next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes getting lost in the touch, and again, she leaned over and kissed him. Gently, he pulled away and cupped her cheek.

“Esther, this is incredibly tempting, but I think…” his voice faltered.

“Was I too forward?” She tried to scoot back, but he reached out and offered his hand. Hesitantly, she took it and squeezed.

“Oh, I want to make love to you,” he began, “But not just for a night that will leave me with only a memory – I want you for a weekend – just us. I want to go see you in New York and I want you to show me the places that mean something to you,” he paused. “And I think it’s important that you know all my secrets before we make love – and that I know yours.”

“Well, I’m a pretty open book.”

“Are you? Why does a pretty Hispanic lady like yourself go by Esther Clark? What are you trying to hide?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, though she had to admit the question stung a little. Maybe it would be wise to wait a little longer. Secrets had a habit of destroying the trust that love built.

Damian moved so he was leaning against the headboard and he gently encouraged her to snuggle his chest. She rested next to him and he wrapped his arm around her. She caught a hint of earthy cedarwood and grew comfortable in his warm arms. His body ran warmer than she expected.

“Sleep beside me tonight. No expectations. Tonight is not the night to make more secrets. Tonight is a night to just enjoy each other’s comfort. I’ll come to you at Christmas.”

“Have you been to New York City before?” Her voice was soft.

“No, but I have been to Boston.”

She lightly laughed. “It’s not quite the same.”

“You’ve seen my backyard. Now show me yours.” His voice was low and husky and gentle.

“I will.”

The next morning they woke up with enough time for her to enjoy a light breakfast before he drove her to the train station. They hadn’t talked much, but he did kiss her on the cheek goodbye before she got on the train and her heart was thrilled that he would come to the City to see her soon. He was a good and honest man and whatever his secret, she was determined to accept him as the man he was.