"Sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to frighten you," a middle-aged man with a kindly face, says as Nola turns around.

"Well, I'm afraid that's exactly what you accomplished. I wasn't expecting to run into anyone else out here tonight."

Upon seeing Nola's face, the man seems shocked and more than a little frightened himself.

"Are you okay, Sir? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I thought for a second I had."

"Excuse me."

"You look so much like my . . . my mother."

"Okay, I know I'm not exactly a spring chicken but still . . . "

"No, I mean when she was young." The man takes out a locket, opens it and shows it to Nola. This was my mother's."

Nola looks at the picture, of a man and a woman together smiling, and is very shocked herself. "If I didn't know better, I would even think this was me. I guess, it's right what they say."

"What's that?"

"Everyone has a double."

Trying to compose himself, the man says, "Yeah, I suppose so, but I never expected to run into my mother's in the middle of a graveyard at night"

Nola hesitates for a moment before she says, "This might be a dumb question, but what are you doing here, at night in the grave yard?"

"Well, I knew I'd be driving by here right about now, on my way through town, and I remembered too, that they don't lock the gates at night, so I thought I would stop by and see my parents' grave. Maybe put some fresh flowers on it."

"On your way through town? You don't live in Springfield?"

"I did live here for about twenty years, but now I make my home where I was born, in South Georgia."

"I thought I noticed the accent."

"It can get a little thick."

"It's nice. Sort of reminds me of 'Gone With the Wind'. So you moved to Springfield, from Georgia?"

"Yes, my father got a better paying job when I was about twelve, and we moved here. My parents lived here until they died. About four years ago. They died within a month apart of each other."

"Both parents? In less than a month? How terrible that must have been for you?"

"It was hard, but they had both lived very long and happy lives. And now they're together, forever. Would you like to see their grave?"

Nola walks with the man over to a bronze monument that says, "Catherine and Robert Byers, Together Forever,"

"My parents were married for more than sixty years," the man says proudly.

"Sixty years? They must have loved each other very much."

"They did. But you know, even their marriage wasn't always perfect. I can remember a time when I was young, that my father went away. He was gone for almost a year. And I think, the truth be told, there was another woman involved."

"That must have been a very sad time for you."

"It was at first, but then we had a boarder come to stay. His name was Zachary. He was a very handsome young boy. I think my sister even had a crush on him. She always said he had the bluest eyes she had ever seen."

"Really?"

"And truthfully, I think my mother was a little sweet on him too. Mind you, I was just a young kid back then, but I wasn't stupid."

"But what happened between Catherine, I mean your mother and Zachary?"

"I guess some could say it was sort of a tragedy. I remember after he had been there for a while, my mother and Zachary starting running around all goo-goo eyes and whispering to each other. Then she went up to Jacksonville to see my father, that's where he had run off to, and next thing you know, my mother walks in the door with my father, and with the biggest smile I ever saw on anyone's face. My parents were never apart from that day on."

"But what about Zachary?"

"Well, I guess whatever had gone on with Zachary and my mom was over, and this is the tragic part, Zachary went hunting, and the next thing you know they found him dead with a bullet hole in his chest. He didn't leave a note, and some people said maybe he had been cleaning his gun and it had accidentally went off. But I don't agree with that. I found out later that Zachary's own mother had left this earth the very same way.

"That's so sad."

"Yeah, it really was. Zachary was a good friend to me. You know, I felt like I could talk to him about anything."

"I know. I felt the same way."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, it's nice having someone you can talk to. Oh, by the way, I'm sorry. I never introduced myself. My name's Nola. Nola Chamberlain."

"I guess I forgot to introduce myself too. I'm Jimmy. Jimmy Byers."

"So Zachary really did love Catherine, huh?"

"I think he did. I can still remember one night when my mother was trying to teach him how to dance. You should have seen the way he looked at her. To this day, I can still remember that look."

"Zachary didn't know how to dance?" Nola says astonished.

"Nope, I don't think his dad's new wife put much store in things like that, real religious lady, you know. But my mother, well, she was more of a free spirit. I think she found more religion in a sunrise than in any sermon she ever heard. And I can still remember the night she gave Zachary his first dancing lesson. Thinking back to it now, I think that's when things really started up for them. Sometimes when I think back to that night, I can still see them dancing, and I can still hear an old Elvis 45 playing on the turntable.

"Elvis? What song?"

"'Love me Tender'. Good song to fall in love too, huh?" Are you okay, Ms. Chamberlain? Now you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm beginning to think I just might have. Oh, and please, call me 'Nola'.

"If you agree to call me 'Jimmy'."

"Okay, Jimmy. Can you just tell me one more thing? Did Catherine love Zachary? Even a little bit?"

"I don't know. She might have in a way. I know she was very fond of him, but still . . . my father was the real love of her life. I knew that the day she came home with him. I'll never forget how happy she looked as she walked in that door carrying a white rose."

"A white rose?"

"It was my mother's favorite flower. I picked one up on the way here, I was going to put in on her grave. But I tell you what. My mother always said that flowers should be for the living not for the dead. Why don't you take it, Nola. You could give it to your fellow."

"My fellow?"

"I'm sure someone as pretty as you does have a fellow. And you know men like getting flowers too. Maybe it'll even charm him into giving you a ring."

"A ring?"

"I noticed you're not wearing one."

Nola takes the flower. "It's almost a miracle, isn't it?"

"What's almost a miracle?"

"That your parents were able to stay together for sixty years, even after they were apart more than a year."

"I guess some couples are just meant to be."

."I believe you're right about that. And maybe it's time I start believing in miracles and meant-to-be's again."

Just then a gust of wind hits them.

"Well, ma'am, I reckon I'll be headed back home now. It's getting a might chilly out here. You should be leaving too. I wouldn't like to think of you out here all by yourself."

"Yes, I think I should be leaving. Would you mind walking me to my car, Jimmy?"

"Of course, not."

They walk to her car and JImmy says, "It was very nice meeting you."

"You too. Hope you have a safe drive home."

"I'll try. You know with my job as a sales rep., I get to travel all over the country, even all over the world, but still there's no place I'd rather be than home with my wife and kids."

"You're right about that. Home is the best place to be, especially when there's someone waiting there that loves you."

"You sound as if there is someone waiting for you."

"Yes, I believe there is."

"Then would you tell your young man that he needs to put a ring on that pretty hand of yours. My wife and I have been married ourselves for almost 32 years, and marriage is the only way to go in my book."

"I'll tell him what you said," Nola says with a smile.

Nola tells Jimmy goodbye, and drives off, realizing that for the first time in a very long time, that she is indeed headed home.

***********************************

She drives a few more miles, and then pulls into the drive way of the old house on Thornway Road, parks, and walks up to the door. She knocks on the door, but no one answers. Undaunted she knocks again, but still no one answers. And then it occurs to her, that maybe Quinton did leave indeed leave Springfield, just as he told he was going to.

She fights back the tears, as she heads to her car. The temperature outside has begun to quickly drop, and her first impulse is to get in the car, head straight home, and climb into a warm but empty bed. But then a feeling, comes over her, stronger than she has ever had before. A feeling that tells her that instead of leaving she should walk around to the back on the house.

Doing just that, Nola Chamberlain, gets the biggest and perhaps, the best surprise of her entire life.

Nola first rubs her eyes to make sure what she's seeing is not a mirage, and then she pinches herself to make sure it's not a fantasy. Convinced it is indeed real, Nola slowly proceeds into the back yard.

As she gets closer, she sees a sight that makes her rejoice and at the same time, breaks her heart - Quinton alone in the gazebo, his face streaked with silent tears.

Nola takes a deep breath, and then walks over to him, and in a mock timid voice, she begins, "Excuse me, I've come about the advertisement in the paper, the one for the archaeological assistant."

Quinton turns around, and for a moment is completely dumbfounded, but then catching on, he responds, "Well, Miss . . . Miss?"

"Reardon. Miss Reardon."

"Miss Reardon, tell me do you have any . . . experience?"

"Not that much actually, but I am a very fast learner, and I've never been averse to a little on-the-job training."

Quinton jumps up off the bench, and exclaims, "Oh, Nola, you've come back to me."

"How did you do all this? I mean, did you rebuild the gazebo?"

"No, this is the same exact gazebo that we met in. I had it moved back from my father's house, for you."

"Wow. And all I brought you was a flower, she says offering him the white rose that Jimmy gave her. "I know it's nothing like the time you filled the boarding house with flowers, but it's the best I could do on short notice."

"A white rose? Let me see, if I recall, my symbolism correctly, red means true love, yellow means friendship, I believe, but I'm not sure what white signifies."

"Well, white is the color of peace, tranquility, and . . . surrender."

Quinton takes the flower from her hands, and immediately notices her palm.

"Nola, your scar is gone."

"Really? Maybe I'm starting to rejuvenate? I hadn't even noticed it. You are observant, aren't you?"

"Believe me, I notice every little detail when it concerns you, Nola. I even remember how you got that scar. I haven't forgotten the story you told me about your mother's snow globe that you accidentally broke when you were a child."

"You know, Quinton, I think I might have been wrong about that."

"How so?"

"All this time, I thought I broke the globe because I held it too tightly, but I think maybe now, that it fell out of my hands because I wasn't holding it tight enough."

"It's very sad when we let something we cherish slip through our fingers."

"Yes, very sad. I don't think I would ever let something like that happen again."

"Nor I, my precious Nola."

Nola and Quinton move very close to each other. Their eyes lock and just as they move in for a kiss, a female voice calls out, "I'm back."

They turn around to find Bridget standing in the gazebo.

Nola bites her lip and says, "Bridget, did anyone ever tell you that you have really lousy timing?"

"Sorry guys, but I've been waiting for Quinton to come home. I was starting to get hungry and thirsty, I tell you the man has nothing in his refrigerator, so I ran up to the Seven Eleven around the corner for a Big Gulp and some nachos."

"Why have you been waiting for me to come back?" Quinton asks. I thought we had taken care of everything we needed to take care of."

"But you left before I could give you your letter," Bridget responds.

"Okay, now I'm getting confused," Nola says. What business did you two have to take care of, and what letter is she talking about?"

Quinton gently touches Nola's shoulder and says calmly, "The business was nothing . . . nothing important and the letter was the one I wrote you that night after we had dinner at the country club."

"Well, why does Bridget have my letter?"

"That's a long story," Bridget answers. But it's not important now. What is important is that you read it," she says handing the letter to Nola. "And let me tell you, if you read this, and still don't take your husband back, then I swear, you have Playdoh for brains.

"Oh and there is another reason I needed to see you two," Bridget continues. "I think it's about time I told you both, the truth about Jessica."

to be continued

"Bridget, I really don't want to hear anything about Jessica, ever again," Nola says almost pleadingly. I want to put that all in the past. Just pretend it never happened."

"But that's just it. It didn't happen. That's what I'm trying to tell you," Bridget answers.

"Bridget, this better not be another one of your silly games," Quinton warns.

"Oh, would you two just shut up and let me talk," Bridget yells at them.

A stunned Nola and Quinton are both silent as she begins. "The last time I went to visit Roger in the 'International House of Padded Rooms', he told me a very interesting story about a girl he met in a group counseling session. She had been transferred there from the Drug Detox Center."

"Does this have anything to do with Annie?" Nola interrupts.

"No, this is not about Annie," Bridget says, shaking her head. Just listen, will you. As I was saying, Roger told me that he met this girl in his group sessions, that's where all the nut cases get up and talk about their problems. And this girl said that drugs had so ruled her life that she had even gave up a promising career in archaeology because of them. And that she had even tricked the archaeology professor she was working for, into believing he had slept with her . . . "

"How can you trick someone into thinking they slept with you?" Nola asks interrupting Bridget once again.

"Nola, you have to remember this girl was the queen of the junkies. She probably had pills in her portable pharmacy that could have made a man believe he had slept with the entire cast of the 'Love Boat.' Especially, when you consider whatever she gave this man, she slipped into his drink. Alcohol and pills, you know, not a very stable combination.

"Anyway, the point is, she slipped this archaeological professor she was working for, a micky, and when he woke up she told him a story about the two of them sleeping together, because she wanted to blackmail him But her plan backfired, because instead of trying to buy her silence, 'Dudley Do Right' went and told his wife. And they broke up. Then this girl made up some lame story about being a virgin, to give the guy a guilt trip, and then proceeded to live off the poor sucker for over a year.

And, now pay attention, this is the good part, the girl was named Jessica, and the sucker was named Quinton. Believe it or not. Some story, huh?" Bridget asks triumphantly.

Nola exhales and says, "That is a very interesting story, Bridget, but you have to remember Roger is not the world's most reliable person, and I don't know why he would want to do or say anything to help Quinton and me. I'm sure he still hates me for helping to bust him when he was hiding out at the boarding house all those years ago."

"I thought you said you didn't have any adventures before you met me?" Quinton asks playfully.

"I meant romantic adventures, although I have to admit Roger's 'Henry Kissinger' voice was kind of sexy."

A frustrated Bridget says, "Oh guys, would you take this seriously. I'm trying to save your marriage here."

"I'm sorry, Bridget. Okay, tell us how you know Roger wasn't lying?" Nola asks calmly.

"For one thing, Roger isn't the same Roger anymore. Ever since the shock treatments the doctors gave him, he's been sort of like Barney on Valium. And for another thing, I ran into Jessica myself. I recognized her from Henry's funeral. And she told me the same exact story. She was pretty mellow by then, I think she had been visiting 'old man shock treatment' too. She said she felt sorry for what she had done, and she wanted to come tell you all, but she didn't have time. Her mother was coming to take her home to Alaska, where I'm sure she will have a very nice life, weaving baskets, and just being very relaxed.

Quinton, suddenly says very seriously, "Nola, can you ever forgive me for letting someone like that come into our lives?"

Nola hesitates only a moment before she says, "You know, Quinton, I actually feel sorry for Jessica. She might not have turned out like that if she had ever had someone like you to love."

"Nola, you are an extraordinary woman."

"Quinton, you're an extraordinary man."

"Excuse me," Bridget blurts out, "but I'm still here. The least you two could do is thank me for single handily saving your marriage."

"Yes, Bridget, thank you for single-handily saving our marriage," Nola says with a sly smile. "But come to think of it, why didn't you tell us this sooner?"

"Well, maybe Quinton should tell you that, but Nola I just want you to know, that I never wanted you to be unhappy; I just wanted to make myself happy."

"And are you happy now?" Nola asks genuinely.

"Yes I think I am, because you see, I had a long talk with Zachary and he explained to me that true happiness could never be found in lusty, worldly things, but only through inner peace achieved by helping others."

"You're kidding? an astonished Nola asks."

"Duh," Bridget responds. "Nola, you can keep your Lighthouse Guru all for yourself. My new perspective on the world comes from the fact that Alan Spaulding gave me a half million dollars for the boardinghouse and Company. And you know what they say, money can't buy happiness, but it can buy the illusion of happiness. And a very good illusion it is."

"You sold the boarding house, and Company?" Nola asks in disbelief. But why on earth would Alan want them?"

"Who knows why the Spauldings do anything they do? If you ask me, I think there must have been some cousins marrying cousins, somewhere in that family tree. But Nola, I do know, that you have to find a new place to live."

"A place with thick, well-insulated walls, right?"

"Yeah, whatever knocks you out."

"I don't think that's going to be any problem, any problem at all," Nola says smiling brightly at Quinton.

"You know, this is going to sound sappy, especially coming from someone like me, "Bridget says, "but seeing you two together makes me realize something."

"What's that?" Quinton asks.

"Maybe it is never too late for love."

"Oh god, Bridget, you're not going to try to track down Hart, are you?" Nola asks exasperated.

"Oh, Hell no. I was talking about real love. Hart never loved me. I know he never looked at me the way . . . the way Quinton looks at you. But there was a man that did really love me."

"It wasn't that Elvis fellow you told me about?" Quinton asks.

"I think I know who she's talking about," Nola says. Dylan Lewis, right?"

"Yeah, the son Reva seems to have forgotten she ever had," Bridget answers. "We were very much in love, but then he went blind after an accident, and he didn't want to be a burden on me and Petey, so he broke things off, but I have to admit I never really stopped loving him."

Nola moves closer to Bridget as she says, " I didn't tell you this before, but I know something about Dylan, something you should know. When Floyd wrote me . . . "

"You got a letter from Floyd?" a suddenly curious Quinton asks. "You didn't tell me you got a letter from Floyd."

"Yes, as I was saying, I got a letter from Floyd. Anyway, in jail he became good friends with Billy Lewis, who just so happens to be Dylan's father. Well, Floyd told me that Billy told him that Dylan had written and said his doctors had convinced him to have an operation that might possibly cure his blindness. An operation that could though, be potentially dangerous."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Bridget asks.

"I didn't think you still cared anything about Dylan. You never talked about him anymore. All I ever heard from you was Hart this and Hart that . . ."

"Okay, I admit that I had turned into a brain-dead bimbo. But that's not the real me. Not the me that loved Dylan. I'm going to go to him, to be there for him. That's what the old Bridget would have done, and just maybe I can find that girl again. And I know Nola, that I haven't been the nicest person in the world to you recently, but it would really mean a lot to me, if you would forgive me, and wish me well."

"Of course, I can. Hey, you are, after all, my favorite niece."

Bridget kisses Nola on the cheek and says goodbye. She starts to give Quinton a hug, hesitates for a moment, and then says "Oh, what the heck," and gives him a quick friendly hug. "Quint, you know, I've really learned a lot from being your assistant."

"You mean about archaeology?" he asks.

"Yeah, I learned a little about that. But I also learned a lot about never giving up on something that you really want, something that was . . . meant to be. Goodbye you two. I promise I'll let you know how things go between Dylan and me. Petey's going to be so excited when I tell him we're going on a trip. I just hope that Dylan still feels the same about us."

"I'm sure he will, Bridget," Nola says, giving her one last hug goodbye. "And remember, just don't ever stop believing in love and don't ever stop believing in miracles."

***********************************************

After Bridget has left the Gazebo, Quinton says inquisitively, "So you got a letter from Floyd, and didn't tell me about it. Tell me, my dear, what other deep, dark secrets are you hiding behind those pretty brown eyes?"

"Let me see, did I ever tell you about the dinner invitation I turned down? The dinner invitation from Kelly Nelson."

"I don't think I want to hear any more. Maybe some deep, dark secrets are better left buried."

"I couldn't agree more, so I don't even want to know why Bridget didn't give me that letter or tell us the truth about Jessica sooner."

Just then a gust of icy wind blows through the Gazebo.

"Nola, we should really go in. It's getting chilly out here."

"In a minute. If you don't mind, Quinton, I would like to sit out here in the Gazebo, for a little while longer."

"Then I will have to do my best to keep you warm," Quinton says sitting down on a bench and pulling Nola onto his lap. "Nola, what you said to Bridget about believing in love and miracles, it's very strange, but Zachary said the very same thing to me tonight."

"You went to the Lighthouse, tonight? Oh, God, Quinton, what did you do to Zachary?"

"I didn't do anything to him. Okay, I started to do something to him, but I realized you weren't there with him. But he did tell me to tell you goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"Yes. He said something about it being time to move on. And he also said for me to tell you that he learned a lot from you."

"Really."

"So, Nola, what exactly did you teach him?"

"I just gave him dancing lessons. That's all. Oh, Quinton, when are you ever going to believe me, that there was nothing going on between Zachary and me? What can I do to convince you that you are the only man for me?"

"Do you want the list, alphabetically, or in order of technical difficulties?"

Nola says, giving Quinton a light punch on the shoulder, "I think you've turned into a dirty old man, Quinton R. Chamberlain."

"A dirty old man?" Quinton asks, doing his best to sound shocked.

"Okay, a dirty middle aged man. Is that better?"

"Actually, I don't mind growing old at all, as long as I can grow old with you by my side. Because I love you, Nola Reardon Chamberlain; I've always loved you, and always will."

"Oh, Quinton, I love you too."

Quinton embraces Nola and they start to kiss. But then Nola exclaims, "Quinton, I don't think this is going to work."

"What do you mean it's not going to work? I love you. You love me. Why wouldn't it work?"

"I don't mean us, together. I mean us sitting on this bench. It seems to be . . . to be moving. Or you sure the workers that put it back, secured it correctly?" Nola asks just as the bench tips over.

Nola and Quinton both land flat on their backs on the ground. Quinton immediately turns to Nola and asks her frantically, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I might have a sore back for a while, but I think I'll live. How about you? Are you okay?"

"I can think of much worse fates than lying on the ground, next to you."

"I take it, that means you're okay. You know, Quinton, I've never seen our Gazebo from this . . . this perspective."

"It is quite an interesting perspective, isn't it?" Quinton says leaning over Nola, and giving her a penetrating, intense gaze.

"We could just spend the night out here," Nola says right before she sneezes.

"Oh, no nothing doing. We are going inside right now, young lady. I didn't wait all this time to get you back just to have you catch your death of cold. Besides, I want to show you the inside of my house. I mean, our house. I think you're going to be surprised. Very surprised indeed."

To be continued