Chapter 5

"This is killer lasagna, Marissa. Mom, you should take notes," said Cherie.

The three were enjoying dinner at Marissa's, a small cottage on the north end of the cape.

"Watch it kid," laughed Lynette, taking a second helping herself, "or you'll be on KP for a month."

"Didn't you tell me you were wanting to decorate your room with seashells?" asked Marissa.

"Yeah," answered Cherie, "I've got this one wall that I want to just cover with shells -- that is, if I can find some cool ones."

"Well, as soon as we finish dinner, I've got something to show you."

The three continued to talk about Cherie's school and friends she was making, and Lynette's book, but the girl's attention was solely with the librarian.

"I'd give anything if I had the talent to write," commented Marissa.

"I'm sure you could write if you wanted. Have you ever tried it?"

The lovely librarian laughed. "Oh, in college I tried writing some poetry."

"Do you still have them?" asked Lynette.

"Could I read them? asked Cherie.

"You've got to be kidding. I was love struck at the time and they're all drippy love poems."

"All the more reason." said Cherie.

"Yes," agreed Lynette, "I'd love to read them as well."

"I'm not even sure where they are. I kept them in an old journal."

"I'd really like to read them, Marissa," stated the teen, catching and holding the lovely host's eye for a long moment.

"Oh, all right. They might be in my reading desk. I'll look right after I show you that something I promised."

"Yes, I must admit you've got our curiosity up."

Finishing the meal and their conversation, the three adjourned to Marissa's reading room, a small den/library lined with bookshelves filled to the brim with tomes of every genre and subject.

It was obvious the teen was quite taken with Marissa and hung on her every word, but Cherie's eyes were actually aglow when Marissa opened a display case to reveal two dozen or so of the loveliest, most exquisite seashells either Lynette or Cherie had ever seen.

"Wow!" exclaimed Cherie. "Where did you get them?"

"On the beaches here on the cape. I think that one came from the beach not far from your house."

"Really? Hey Mom, won't my wall look great with shells like these?"

"I'll say. These are absolutely gorgeous."

"Which one do you like best?" Marissa asked Cherie.

"They're all so beautiful," cooed Cherie as her eyes and fingers darted from Abalone to Limpet to Conch, then a pair of Tritons. The girl's fingers traced the outline of a Lightning Whelk and fluted Clam, but it was a small but uniquely marked Cowrie to which she finally pointed.

"They're all lovely, but that one caught my eye for some reason. I just love the way it's marked."

Marissa picked it up and placed it in Cherie's hand. "It's yours."

"Oh, no, I couldn't..."

"No, Marissa, it no doubt took you a long time to find..." started Lynette.

"Nonsense. I want her to have it. It will give you a start on your own collection. In a few months I expect to see that wall covered."

"Thank you, Marissa," exclaimed Cherie hugging the librarian and Marissa, for a moment, lost herself in the warmth of Cherie's body and spirit.

"It's been wonderful but we'd better be getting back. Cherie has school tomorrow and..."

"I understand. I've really enjoyed your company. Perhaps we can do this again, soon."

"What about that book of poetry?" asked Cherie.

"Hmmm, I was kind of hoping you'd forgotten about that," smiled Marissa.

"Please."

"Okay, let me go look."

Returning shortly, Marissa placed the journal in Cherie's hands.

"Now remember, no laughing."

"I won't laugh, I promise," said the girl, suddenly serious. "I would never laugh at you, Marissa."

The librarian and the teenager shared a long look, Marissa puzzled by the moment, yet warmed.

Lynette and Cherie bade Marissa good night and shortly were on their way home.

Although she had not been accosted for the last two nights, Lynette was still uneasy, especially regarding Cherie.

"Honey, have you noticed anything ... unusual since we moved in?"

"Unusual? Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Noises maybe ... or feelings ... or..."

"The window pane in my room rattles when the wind blows hard."

"Yes, I know. There are lots of things that need repairing. I'm trying to get to them as quickly as I can."

"I can fix the window, Mom."

"Okay, but how about other things?"

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well, sometimes I get a chill down my spine."

"I do too, every time I walk into old Mrs. Grunther's algebra class."

They both laughed.

"Then you're okay with the house?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"I ... I just wanted to know you were happy -- with the move and all." said Lynette not wishing to divulge anything which might needlessly upset the teen. "Because if you don't like the house we could move -- find something else."

"No, I love our house, Mom. Don't you?"

"Uh, sure. I just wanted to be sure you did."