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    The Scent of Honeysuckle
    The Scent of Honeysuckle
    The Scent of Honeysuckle
    Ebook105 pages1 hour

    The Scent of Honeysuckle

    By Kali Amanda Browne

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    About this ebook

    Mike and Jess Morgan are a relatively happy married couple who, after winning a large lottery jackpot, purchase a lighthouse in an idyllic north eastern town to pursue their true passions. Soon the quaint and beautiful setting is marred by a series of increasingly unsettling and mystifying experiences . . . including the intoxicating sweet scent of honeysuckle.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKali Amanda Browne
    Release dateSep 30, 2015
    ISBN9781536518955
    The Scent of Honeysuckle
    Author

    Kali Amanda Browne

    Kali Amanda Browne was born in New York City; grew up in Puerto Rico; and she came of age and currently resides in Brooklyn, NY. Above all, she tries to laugh even at adversity. She is a writer, food enthusiast, devoted daughter, nerd, pagan, wild woman...

    Read more from Kali Amanda Browne

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      Book preview

      The Scent of Honeysuckle - Kali Amanda Browne

      THE SCENT OF HONEYSUCKLE

      The Silver Bullet BMV idled outside the posh liquor store called Heavenly Spirits.

      I’m just running in for a minute, Mike said to his wife.

      She sighed and stared out the passenger side window.

      Fine.

      Mike undid his seatbelt and put his hand to her shoulder, gently caressing the back of her neck. She did not reject his touch, but she did not react to it. All he got was cold indifference.

      Baby, I know you’re upset that instead of going out to celebrate our anniversary we got sucked into this business dinner at my boss’s, Mike said. I promise I’m going to make it up to you.

      His tone was loving and conciliatory.

      Can we just get it over with already? she said without turning to face him.

      He knew he would not win this one and exited the car. He gave a quick glance back as he waited to be buzzed in, but Jess was stubbornly staring into the darkness.

      He heard the familiar ring and the locking mechanism release, and he went inside.

      Good evening, Mr. Morgan, the distinguished gentleman behind the counter greeted him. It is always a pleasure to see you. How’s your lovely bride?

      Hi Abe, Mike replied. The lovely bride is in the car. Simmering and plotting my death. A painful one.

      Ah, Abe said. She still doesn’t know...

      Mike grinned.

      Nope. She thinks we’re on our way to a business dinner.

      Risky, sir, Abe said as he began opening a small package.

      Mike laughed.

      I know, but it has been 15 years and it is virtually impossible to surprise that woman, Mike said as he reached the counter. Is that it?

      It is, Abe said and set the contents before him.

      The it were two hand-blown crystal flutes. Mike had designed the glasses as calla lilies, just like the bridal bouquet of three perfect lilies that Jess had chosen for their wedding. The flute was a sand etched frosted white glass with a thin, long and delicate green stem.

      Mike had back-ordered the items exactly nine months before and now held the product of his creativity.

      She is going to love it, sir, Abe said. He then showed Mike the magnum of Dom Pérignon with the custom label, with hand-painted calla lilies, that read:

      Fifteen years of wedded bliss.

      Mike & Jess

      The same Venetian gallery that created the flutes had been charged with creating two candle holders and matching dessert plates. These were not perfectly round but the irregularity was part of their charm and Mike and Jess would eat their cake from them later that evening.

      Abe gently placed the magnum and flutes in a padded velvet bag, and the other gifts in a fitted wooden case. Behind Abe, an excited news anchor boasted of the latest super jackpot.

      That’s crazy, Abe said. It’s up to $280 million. Would you like to try your luck?

      Sure, Mike said as he picked numbers from a small form.

      Their transaction done, Mike returned to the vehicle and found his wife in no better mood than when he’d left her. They drove in silence.

      When they reached the Hudson Valley mansion, Jess exited the car and waited petulantly by the front door. Mike retrieved his packages and thanked the valet before joining her.

      Honey, he said. Please...

      Screw you, Mike!

      The door opened and they were greeted by the lady of the house.

      It’s the Morgans everyone!

      The couple was led to the ballroom and it took Jess a full minute to comprehend what she saw. Amongst the sea of faces and beautiful gowns, she spied a few familiar faces: her mother, her sister, her in-laws, her friend Clarissa... Above them a banner read Happy Anniversary, Mike & Jess!

      Her jaw dropped and she gasped—a delayed reaction to her shock. She turned to her husband and found him grinning like an idiot.

      Surprise!

      She let out a girlish squeal and threw herself into his arms. Apparently, all was forgiven.

      You evil, evil man.

      "Shut up, wench. You love me!"

      As guests, family and friends, and a few colleagues rushed to welcome and congratulate them, Mike slipped away to set up the head table with his crystal goodies.

      ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

      There is no point in detailing the evening as it is of no consequence. There were delectable appetizers, exotic cocktails, laughing and chatting, a fabulous four course meal, and some dancing.

      As their anniversary cake was rolled into the formal dining room, applause broke out. A perfect replica of the small church in which they wed, the cake was a work of art.

      Make a wish! someone yelled out.

      Nah, that’s just on birthdays, Mike’s boss helpfully added.

      That’s right, the rule is you need to blow out birthday candles to make a wish, Mike said as he produced he lottery ticket, Here, wish on this instead.

      Jess looked at it intently and her eyes misted over. She kissed Mike.

      The numbers were not randomly generated, she saw that immediately. Instead, the combination consisted of three sets of dates: their first meeting, their first date, and when Mike proposed. The bonus number, 42, was a reference to their favorite childhood book, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

      They were having their traditional toast out of the beautiful hand-blown crystal flutes when the lottery numbers were announced. They were eating cake and listening to toasts – about marriage, happiness and what $280 million could buy you. Out of sheer curiosity, Mike discretely brought his cell phone to his lap and launched the lottery commission’s website to check out the winning numbers.

      Holy fuck!

      He jumped up abruptly and their table wobbled. He knocked over both glasses, though thankfully neither broke. Jess quickly picked them up and tried to sop up the spilled champagne with her napkin.

      Michael! she admonished.

      Holy shit! he screamed and sat back down. He handed her the phone and pointed to its tiny screen, unable to say any more.

      Jess stared at it for a few seconds and sneered at her husband.

      Very funny, Michael, she said and slammed the phone on the table.

      No, he said. You don’t understand. I didn’t do that! It’s not a joke.

      She looked at him, then back at the phone. Then they stared at each other for a good ten seconds before they stared screaming.

      We won! We won! We won!

      ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

      The next few months were a whirlwind, as is typical for most jackpot winners.

      They both quit their jobs. Mike paid the mortgage on his parent’s house and bought them a new car. Jess bought her sister a condo and her mother got the small house in Florida she always wanted. College funds were created for all nieces, nephews and godchildren. Student loans and credit card debts were paid in full. Ten percent of their winnings were dispersed among several worthy causes.

      Although they avoided publicity beyond the required press conference announcing them as winners, soon long-lost relatives nobody knew, daring entrepreneurs, charlatans and opportunists tried desperately to get a piece of their action. Soon, everybody had the perfect business opportunity and life became about managing the money and trying to keep it from extended hands that came out of the woodwork at every turn. That became their exhausting full time job.

      It was exhausting.

      They carefully considered what their future together should be and what their next move would be – because they had yet to spend a cent on themselves beyond paying off their debts. Their decision shocked everyone.

      We bought a lighthouse, they told their friends and loved ones.

      It’s in the middle of nowhere, was usually

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