We were on the road early just before sunrise. We wanted to be at the bed and breakfast and on the beach to watch the sunrise. We made it there just as day broke and were able to park and get onto the beach as the sun was just rising. What a beautiful start to a weekend!
As we walked up the beach and around to the front of the house, we noticed that the porch went all the way around to the front. And it was quite spacious, with wicker chairs and tables. Because it was still early, there wasn't anyone out there yet. But I couldn't get enough of the view. From the front yard you could see meadows for miles and from the back, where we had just come from, miles and miles of ocean. Such a beautiful start to the day!
When we walked into what would be best described as the lobby, the smell of cinnamon met us. For a moment, I just had to stand there, close my eyes, and inhale. The farther we walked in, the stronger it got and the more I began looking for the source. Then as I looked around, I saw the lit candles on each side of a bowl of potpourri. Such wonderful ambiance! We were definitely going to enjoy our stay here.
To the left, was a living room with over stuffed chairs and couches and plenty of tables for cool drinks on hot days and warm cider on cool days. I always envision Christmastime when I smell cinnamon. There were a few couples sitting around talking as we walked in.
There was no one at the desk, so I casually walked over to take in the aroma, while Marc lightly touched the bell on the desk. As he waited, another sense joined the first when the sound of soft, romantic music filled my ears. It was piped in from somewhere in the house, but no one knew from where.
Pretty soon the white salon doors opened, and out came a woman wiping her hands on a towel that was attached to her apron. I envisioned her in the kitchen creating something special and tasty for her charges who sat in the living room. She could have even been someone's grandma at one time, fixing warm, tasty treats when her grandchildren came for a visit. She spoke and I rejoined Marc.
"You must be the Taylor's. I'm your hostess, and everyone calls me Miss Bea." She extended a hand to shake our hands. "We were hoping you would be able to join us for breakfast."
"Oh really?" I asked, wondering if she treated all her guests like that, with the personal touch. "How did you know we would be here this early?"
"That was me," Marc explained. "I told her we wanted to enjoy the most of our weekend and might be here for breakfast."
"So I took the liberty of creating a plate for you just in case."
"Well, thank you so much. Have we missed breakfast? I noticed others already sitting and having coffee."
"Not at all. Breakfast is at nine o'clock and it's only eight, dear." The woman smiled. "You have time to get settled in your room and join the others for coffee, if you wish."
"Oh, great," I said, as Marc signed the registrar and a bellhop grabbed our bags and waited. Before long she was doffing her apron and came around the desk with a key.
"Please, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, follow me and I'll show you your room."
Before long we were in a very beautiful room. Miss Bea told us that we could either turn the sound system on to hear the same music that was downstairs or, if we had our own CD, we could use that. We soon thanked her and closed the door behind her, shutting both the world and the house owner out. Marc turned the music on low as we settled in for the weekend.
I sat on the bed taking in the surroundings as I looked at the list of numbers by the phone: front desk, room service, security, bell boy.
After I set the card back by the phone, I pulled a pillow out from under the covers and placed it on the other as I lay back closing my eyes.
Marc was in another area of the room, but when I opened my eyes, he was standing in front of me looking down at me and smiling.
As I continued laying there, he scooted next to me on his left side, kissing my cheek as his right hand started caressing along my stomach and around the side, pulling me toward him. He only kissed me once before he pulled away. "It's almost time for breakfast." He got off the bed and held his hand out for me to take. "Shall we?"
"Yes." I took his hand and we joined the other guests downstairs just settling around the breakfast table.
As we waited for Miss Bea to bring breakfast out, we all began talking and getting to know each other. Soon everyone in the house learned that Marc and I were there to renew our wedding vows.
"Oh, how romantic!" one woman said, as she began to beam. Obviously, she herself was a romantic. "Cliff and I haven't been married long enough to renew ours, but I can't wait."
"And when you do renew them, I hope you come back here, dear," Miss Bea said, as she came in rolling a cart of deliciously smelling food.
Over breakfast we continued talking about weddings and romance and all that went into a good marriage. It was an interesting chat. All this chatter over a simple statement of renewing wedding vows! But it did set the mood for what would soon take place.
After breakfast, Marc and I went back upstairs and got our beach bag of stuff before telling Miss Bea we were going to spend the day at the beach and sight see before dinner. She smiled and saw us out rather eagerly. As we walked away, we noticed that she didn't just wave and go back inside. She waited till we had turned the corner. It was then that we knew she had something up her sleeve.
Our first stop was an antique shop. There was nothing special about the shop, but because we were doing it together, it was special. We walked in and went our separate ways. That way we could cover more ground, and if there was something interesting, one would call the other over. The store had many things from books to oil lamps to old cast iron stoves. But one thing that was interesting was a wind chime with a man and woman on it holding hands. That was Marc's choice. Mine was a snow globe showing a country scene with a house overlooking a lake. The couple sat on a porch swing facing the lake. And, of course, when you shook it, snow flakes fell over the scene.
"Well, I have my souvenir. How 'bout you?" I asked Marc, while holding my treasure in my hands.
"Yep, ready to move on." We then paid for our things and went to the next store. After several more shops, we headed to a quaint little café for lunch. We asked for a table that was secluded but which still overlooked the water.
"I have the perfect place. Please follow me."
He led the way through the dimly lit room where flowers and candles lined every table, including ours. After we sat and were handed our minus, the waiter took the drink order while we looked over the menu.
"Two white wine spritzers, please." Marc said. The waiter wrote it down and left. When our drinks arrived, Marc ordered our meal and handed the waiter our menus. When our food came, we ate but also fed each other as we did when we first met. Finally, after lunch we left the café and began our leisurely walk on the beach.
The breeze was blowing, and the surf was crashing on the rocks as we stepped onto the sand. Seagulls were flying out over the water above our heads. As we stepped onto the sand, Marc balanced me as I slipped my shoes off, a frequent habit of mine when I go to the beach. Once that was done, we continued our walk arm-in-arm along the shore.
When we got back to Miss Bea's, there was still time before dinner, so we escaped to our room for some quiet reflection before we showered and rejoined the others for dinner.
Over dinner, everyone reminisced about their weddings and how wonderful they were. Miss Bea even spoke of the love she once had and how she had lost him. It was actually on his death bed that she promised him that she would keep the love and happiness flowing by creating renewals of wedding vows.
For dessert, Miss Bea brought out a mini-cake with "Well Wishes" on top.
"Marc, why don't you and your bride practice cutting the cake so I can take pictures."
She handed him the knife as we stood up. We held the knife together, while she grabbed her camera and instantly started snapping pictures as the knife plunged into the layers of cake. Once the pieces were cut and passed out, cider was poured and toasts began.
One of the other women took the pictures as Miss Bea gave her toast.
"May the two of you continue to get stronger and happier with each passing day. May you cherish each day with each other as much in the future as you have in the past. May each day be filled with love, laughter, and plenty of hugs. And remember to thank your Creator for the time you have with each other, for it has been blessed by our heavenly Father."
She then raised her glass in conclusion as everyone followed suit.
After everyone finished their sip, Miss Bea took her camera back and turned to Marc. "Now, Marc, it's your turn."
He cleared his throat, looked at me, and stood, raising his glass.
"To my beautiful wife, may the years we share in the future be as wonderful as the years we have already shared. I look forward to sharing the rest of my life with you and waking up with you in my arms for the rest of our lives. I love you."
I was standing next to him and as he finished, he wrapped me in his arms and kissed me. We soon clinked glasses and toasted.
As we stood there, Miss Bea must had taken dozens of pictures before we finally got to sit back down to enjoy the rest of our meal.
That night while we slept, Miss Bea and her staff skillfully worked on everything from setting up the banquet room, backyard, and gazebo to decorating the house in preparation of our renewals in the morning. And all was done under the cloak of darkness and silence because no one stirred.
End of Part One -------------------------------------------------------
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