“…Eyeballs…” Book III: 34. The Honeymoon, Lake Pocotopaug

Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?

By Kate Chamberlin

As Grace grows up, some of her stories are happy, some trying, some enlightening, and a few themes are sad, but, they’re all the warp and woof of what goes into the tapestry of life we call Family. The daily living skills and techniques demonstrated by the fictional characters in these stories are valid, tried and true.

Book III:  Wife and Mother

#33. The Wedding

#34. The Honeymoon: Lake Pocotopaug

“Oh, no,” Grace groaned, as she heard voices from the docks near the small cottage on Lake Pocotopaug where they were going to start their honeymoon. “I thought all of Mother’s cousins and friends would be gone by the time we got here.”

The lake friends warmly welcomed Ken and Grace.

“We didn’t know you’d be coming,” Mal said.

“Why didn’t your Mother tell us?” Lila asked

Eventually, it came out that Ken and Grace were married.

“Really,” Percy said. “When did you kids tie the knot?”

“Well, actually,” Ken stalled.

“We were married this afternoon,” Grace finished for him.

They had to endure several minutes of teasing about this being their secret honeymoon spot. Within 20-minutes, the other families had cleared out and the other four cottages were empty.

“Alone, at last,” Ken said wolfishly, wrapping his arms around Grace in a bear hug and  nibbling her neck.

The first three days at the Lake were perfect for lounging on the dock, leisure rows around the lake, cooking out and touring the small shops in town.

“Oh, this feels weird,” Grace said, standing in the middle of the Comstock Bridge.

“The Salmon State forest,” Ken began to read from the brochure in his most docent-like voice.”… features Comstock’s Bridge, the only remaining covered bridge in eastern Connecticut, which spans the Salmon River near our cottage in East Hampton.”

In the cool, morning mist, the ducks on their dock would wake them up, demanding to be fed with their loud quacks, squabbling, and splashes. The ducks weren’t intimidated when Grace and Ken walked onto the dock in their bare feet and matching blue striped jammies, instead, the boldest of the quackers came up to them looking for pieces of bread.

“This reminds me of when I was a little girl and we sat near the family camp’s duck pond,” Grace said, holding her palm out with the bread for the ducks. “The counselors would tell us nature stories that made us laugh and sometimes, cry.”

At dusk, each resident put luminaries on the end of their dock.

“The small, brown paper bags are oiled,” Ken explained As they sat on their own dock. ”Then, they are weighted down with sand in the bottom of the bag. A small candle is placed in the sand and lit.

“The surface of the calm lake mirrors the lights, appearing to deepen the depth of the water, the depth of romance, and the depth of my love for you,” Ken softly said, kissing her neck.

Early on their fourth day at the cottage, still snuggled in bed with Ken, Grace said, “Listen to that thunder rumble. It reminds me of the first morning I main-streamed into the public high school.”

“Yes, I remember seeing you for the first time in the lunch line,” Ken smiled.

“Oh don’t remind me of that, thank you very much!” Grace laughed. “Main-streaming turned out to be the right move after all.”

The thunder that shook the little cottage moved on, but, the low-slung clouds persisted and it rained off and on.

“Well, we planned on going to Boston today, anyway,” Ken said. “What about starting the second phase of our honeymoon sooner rather than later?”

“Boston Park Plaza, here we come,” Grace said giving Ken a bear hug.