Lighthouse Way (Huckleberry Bay 1)

It’s been two months since the accident. Aside from some soreness in my leg once in a while, usually warning me that rain is coming in, I’m physically healed.

If you don’t count the screaming migraines that appear out of nowhere and knock me on my ass. Amaryllis calls them crash migraines.

And isn’t that just appropriate?

So far today, I’m headache-free, so I start out down Lighthouse Way, the street I grew up on, just a few blocks from the cliffs. I’ve been taking this walk daily, though at different times. It clears my head.

Being out here always did.

I loved my parents, but they fought a lot. Whenever they had a particularly bad one, I’d sneak out of the house and wander up the road toward the cliffs, where the lighthouse sits.

Where Luna and Apollo lived.

The three of us played together all over this area from the time we were barely in kindergarten to middle school. We rode our bikes, played in the trees, and spent one hell of a childhood together. You would think I’d have been the closest to Apollo, but it was Luna I enjoyed being with the most. Apollo was fun, too, but there was something about the connection I had with Luna that I craved. She was so smart. Always so kind. And she had a soothing personality, even as a young kid.

But then we got older. Luna started playing with her girlfriends, and I shifted my attention to learning about cars. Eventually, we grew apart the way kids do. Apollo and I hung out in high school, but I rarely saw Luna.

It’s just the natural way of things.

But, man, I loved those years when we played together here in the neighborhood. We knew every tree, every hill. But we never went near the cliffs. That was off-limits, and it was well known that our parents would have our heads if we played on them. It wasn’t until I was a teenager and dying to get out of town to race that I started climbing down the rocks to sit closer to the water.

It still smells the same, like saltwater and crisp trees. And, as I walk around the bend that leads to the lighthouse and the Winchester homestead, I have to admit that it looks pretty much the same, too. Sure, the house has had a coat or two of paint added over the years, but the lighthouse hasn’t changed at all. It still stands tall and proud on the cliffs as the waves crash below, sending up misty sprays of water. It must be high tide because the seawater flies over the horizon, reaching almost as high as the house

The property has other outbuildings that Luna’s family hasn’t used, leaving them mostly in disrepair. As far as I know, no one ever used them in our lifetime.

We always thought they looked haunted with their weathered, gray wood and broken windows.

Luna swore she saw a ghost, but I always shrugged it off as a fanciful story told by an imaginative little girl.

Who knows? Maybe it was true.

The grass is green set against the big, blue sky, and the wind is relatively calm today, making for a nice late-summer morning.

Just before I turn toward the cliffs, I see someone walk out the side door of the house and start toward the old barn. I raise my hand to wave when they glance my way, and I see that it’s Luna.

Luna smiles, and I take that as an invitation to cross over to chat with her.

“I wondered when I’d see you around,” she says as I approach, opening her arms in an invitation for a hug.

“I’ve been here and there.” I briefly wrap my arms around her and then sip my coffee to hide the jolt of awareness that shoots through me. Luna was always cute but damned if she didn’t grow into a gorgeous woman. Her long, dark hair shimmers in the sunshine, and her dark eyes aren’t just brown. They’re like whiskey. “How have you been? It’s been a long time.”

“Oh, I’m good. Mom and Daddy moved to Florida, so I’m taking care of things around here now.”

“Really? By yourself?”

She arches an eyebrow in annoyance, and I hold up a hand in defense.

“Not that you’re incapable of it. I imagine it’s a lot of work. If anyone can do it, though, it’s you.”

“Yeah.” She sighs and then shrugs, glancing around. “It is a lot of work, but you know I’ve always loved it here. I never planned to do anything else, even when I went away to college. Apollo’s an electrician and busier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. He loves it. And I love the light.”

Luna’s parents named her and her older brother, Apollo, after gods of light. Isn’t it fitting that they both dedicated their lives to it?