Medow drove down a single lane road, skirting the edge of Pristine Lake. The conversation with her editor still rang in her ear as she made the hair pin turns around the endless trees. The deadline to submit her newest novel for the first round of edits came and went. Able to get an extension, Medow escaped into seclusion at her uncle’s mountain cabin by the lake.
Both hope and fear battled through her veins as she neared the turn off for the cabin. Summer stories surrounded every holiday table, but Medow only remembered the lake. The cabin stayed a complete blank in her mind. Last year she made her way there after a break to revive the memories and to find herself again. Yet, the two weeks she spent there resulted in a manuscript with no memory of creating it.
After the urging of her mother to publish it, the book became a runaway success. The publisher tasked Medow with continuing the story. She accepted without much thought, convinced she could do it. She soon discovered how wrong she was. As if a curse snatched away every idea before she could put it to paper, nothing came from her efforts. Necessity now pushed her to return and face the reality of her missing memories.
Pulling up to the glistening lake, Medow stepped out into a haze of old smells of summers long past. The scent of crisp, wet air and musty pine trees saturated her senses. Her mind drifted back to splashing into the cold water of the lake under the baking hot sun. She could almost hear her mother calling everyone to lunch on the side deck. Her father always took charge of roasting hot dogs over the fire pit. Her mouth salivated at the thought of the charred lunches followed by sticky, sweet S’mors.
Medow opened the trunk of her car to collect her luggage before stepping along the path to the cabin. The building came into view from behind a long tree line, as if welcoming her back. The windows glowed in the midday sun while the polished wooden walls reflected the water of the lake. A large wraparound porch connected to a set of wood steps that led down the steep beach to the dock.
Medow pulled out the key her Uncle sent her and entered the cabin with a slow creak of the door. A fire burned in the fireplace against the far left wall of the sunk in living room, where plush couches with fluffed pillows filled the space. A large updated kitchen led to the right where high top island with bar stools sat center stage along with a carved table capable of seating ten.
“Did uncle get a caretaker?” Medow asked herself, eying the blazing fire and dust free surfaces. Despite the instant nostalgia of the lake, nothing about the cabin stirred a single memory. Not even the smell of burning wood and cedar from the fireplace.
Sighing in frustration, Medow made her way up the wooden staircase to the second floor. Going from a smoothed polished wood to sharp bark, the banister shifted as she made her way up. Each stair had a different intricate design as they curved around the center of the cabin. Puzzled, Medow continued taking each step with care. Reaching the top, lightning struck through her mind and shocked her to her core. Medow’s head fulled with fantastical images of the world beyond the closet. Singing foliage, magical beasts capable of wielding the elements with their partnered riders; it all came rushing back. Her heart caught in her throat and she gripped her chest in disbelief. A boy then, but a man now. Medow recalled the earthy scent, the velvet voice and the piercing eyes of her friend. Every night she spent at the cabin, she snuck through the closet to play in a land of magic. Her suitcase dropped to the floor with a thud.
“The door…” Medow said, unable to breathe. “How could I have forgotten him?”
Her feet knew where to go before her mind could process her experience. Racing down the hallway to the last door on the left, she wretched it open and darted inside. An antique wardrob stood alone in the room, cracked open before her. She threw the doors wide, a loud creak groaned from the hinges in her haste. Medow dug and wrestled through storage boxes and moth eaten clothes. Her breath catching, she found the small door tucked away against the side of the closet. Hands shaking, she turned the handle and pushed it open.
Shining summer sun blazed in Medow’s eyes as she crawled onto a forest path. Flowers sung along the stone walkway and butterflies danced around her head. As her footsteps crunched the gravel, she passed a great white tiger snoozing in the sun on a large boulder. It’s ear twitched at her approach. It’s bright green eyes peered at her in familiarity as it licked it’s enormous paw. With a nod, it spoke in her mind. My master waits for you, Exotic One. Almost racing, Medow flew down the path. Her body tingled with memories of hot fingers caressing her skin and eager lips on her neck. Her heartbeat pounded hard enough to erupt from her chest, but she pushed her legs harder. Turning the last corner into the clearing up ahead, she jumped into the waiting arms of….
Medow gasped. She found herself in her car again driving towards the highway. Pulling over, she tried to recall the last thing she remembered. Only able to draw a blank after she entered the cabin upon arriving, she grabbed her phone from her pocket. Shock ran through her when she saw three weeks had passed. Medow looked on the passenger side seat to find a thick manila folder. Pulling the first page out, she read the title of the finished manuscript:
“The Fae Ambassador and the Girl from Another World.”
