A Home in the Forest

This is another part of a loose, unconnected series of sappy romances that aren't filled with hot sex. But this is the type of story I enjoy writing, and hopefully, you will enjoy reading it. The story focuses on two people who thought they had it all. But? Did they? Of course, everyone here is well past the age of consent.

In the beginning - Cathy

Cathy Wagner grew up down south, where the drink of choice is sweet tea with a slice of lemon, which is sometimes known as Alabama champagne. (As an aside, there are those heretics who water down their sweet tea with lemonade, but they are to be forgiven. After all, they might be Yankee transplants. Then again, they may not know the difference between their elbow and their ass on the important topic of real sweet tea.) Her daddy would say he grew grass. And that he did. He grew acres and acres of grass where his cattle grazed. Like many little girls, Cathy's mom enrolled her precious daughter in ballet classes.

Cathy would prance around the house as if she were on stage dancing. Her folks would watch her, chuckle, and applaud her antics. In high school, she joined the dance team. Her experience on the high school dance team won her a partial college scholarship. By the time she got into college, her interests had moved on. What really got her fires going was her desire to follow in her mom's and grandma's footsteps and become a nurse. She went to the same college her mom had gone to for the same reasons. The school's strong nursing program motivated students to reach out and help the community. The college didn't have a big-time athletics program. In her sophomore year in college, the school was invited to play in one of the minor bowl games leading up to the holidays. Some smartass said the school was gunna play in the da toilet bowl. The football scouting combines sent a scout to watch the game on the off chance there might be a standout player there that had yet to pop up on anyone's radar.

None of the players that day were worth a look for the pros, but his eyes fell on a girl on the dance team of one of the schools. This unknown girl's appearance drew him in, and her smile warmed his soul. She moved with a grace and fluidity that drew eyes to her. During the dance team's routine, the scout shot over a hundred frames of this unknown dancer. When he got home, he sent these pictures to a friend, Alex Demoss. Alex was an agent with one of the leading modeling agencies in New York. The scout thought this girl had what his friend looked for in a new model.

Usually, a prospective model would submit a portfolio of photos taken in a studio by a professional photographer. The football scout sent a handful of candid pictures to his friend. Most of the photos were headshots, but there were a few full-body shots. All of the photographs pulled Alex in. After a quick look, Alex knew. She had it. But who is she? How can we talk with her? What will it take to get her under contract with his agency as his client? These were just the beginning of the questions that would take the coming weeks to answer.

After extensive scouting and investigations by private investigators and Alex, they identified the girl in the photo as Catherine Wagner. Alex arranged a meeting at her school with Cathy, her mother, and the dance team coach three weeks before spring break. Alex told them he had seen a series of photographs of her. But the photos were really amateur photos of her. He offered to cover all expenses for Cathy and her mother to fly to New York for a week during spring break. A professional photographer would take a complete portfolio of her. The agency would pay all costs for the photos, but the agency would own the photos. This could result in an offer to Cathy for a modeling contract. If this were to happen, Alex would provide Cathy with the names of three reputable attorneys specializing in representing various artists and contract negotiations for them.

Cathy was thrilled with the prospect of an all-expense paid trip to New York for her and her mom. They arrived in New York on Friday evening and spent the weekend exploring the City before heading into a studio on Monday morning. Cathy had her hair, makeup, and wardrobe done by professionals. Then, the photographer took a series of pictures. As the photographer snapped the photos, he knew she had it. To the photographer, it felt like this girl's look would jump out through the lens of his camera and connect with who was looking at the picture. Tuesday morning, Alex contacted Cathy to tell her she would be offered an exclusive contract with Alex's agency, and the offer would have written guarantees. Cathy, her mom, and her dad were shocked at the amount of money offered in the contract. On Wednesday, Cathy and her mom reviewed proposals with Alex's suggested attorneys. Cathy's dad also contacted their local attorney to review the contracts and to check out the attorneys. Of the three attorneys referred to her, Cathy felt most comfortable asking Randy Whitney to represent her. Over the next several weeks, Randy and Cathy worked together to get her the best deal available from Alex and his agency.

Suddenly, Cathy went from being a college student to the newest face everyone had to have for their ads. One of her more memorable early experiences was standing at a corner in Times Square, waiting for the light to change. In front of her were two girls about her age. The girls were looking up at a billboard showing Cathy hawking something. The girls went on and on about how they felt about her and how amazing she was. On hearing that, Cathy pulled her oversized sunglasses down to hide behind as she screamed in her mind, 'OMG, get a life.'

Erin McKinnon was one of the current supermodels. She also had Alex as her agent, and her attorney was Randy. Early in Cathy's time in the rag trade, Alex and Randy asked Erin to keep an eye on Cathy, as both of them thought she might follow Erin's path to becoming a superstar. Erin knew the world Cathy would face was filled with countless potholes and other holes.

Like Cathy, Erin was also 'discovered.' Two years later, Erin was tagged as a supermodel. Erin took Cathy under her wing. She told her protegee of her plans for when the phone stopped ringing. Her true passions lay in the worlds of architecture and design. When Alex no longer called with a new assignment, Erin saw herself working on drawings for a new building. In three years, she would fulfill her dream and have a degree in architecture. That became the drum Erin beat on constantly. This isn't a permanent lifetime career. There will always be a new face with a fresh look, and you will be cast aside like yesterday's news. But for now, Cathy, you will make great money, travel the world, and have lots of fun.

Another bit of hard-earned wisdom that Erin passed on to Cathy. Be careful with whom you go out with and what you do. There is always someone there with a camera. Ask yourself, do you want to see your picture on Page Six? Or better yet, do you want your mom and friends back home to see that picture?

Erin's suggestions became guideposts for Cathy. She worked hard to keep her social life controlled. Cathy knew being the centerfold of a Page Six spread was not what she wanted to be. Her social life moved her toward her mentor on many levels. Separately, they both had reached the same conclusion. They felt that having a man in their life didn't look likely for the immediate future. Cathy and Erin thought the guys they met were hustlers, always playing one or another angle. While all this was happening, Erin stepped back and watched her new friend toss the wantabes into the harbor. The paparazzi and the fashion media began calling them the 'Bobbsey Twins.' This nickname made them both laugh. Slowly, the two women drew closer and closer to each other. They realized they both had developed a strong mutual attraction for each other. This was something new for both of them. They both worked diligently to keep this side of their friendship out of the public eye. Eventually, Erin earned her degree and began a new life as an architect. On occasion, she would do an assignment that Alex came up with.

Cathy's dream of being a nurse never went away. She knew that someday in the future, she wouldn't be the face on billboards in Times Square. Working with Randy, her attorney, she saved every penny that came her way. Ten years later, her investment portfolio gave her an income where she could stop modeling. With that, Cathy went back to college and finished her BSRN.

Her first job as a real nurse was working in the ER of a major hospital on Long Island. Yeah, it was a hell of a pay cut, and it certainly wasn't glamorous. But it was personally satisfying and fulfilling. This was the life Cathy wanted. Within a year, the hospital, the nurses association, the this, and that all asked Cathy to do one or another PR stint. She felt that all the asks were distracting and making her life as an ER nurse impossible.

Another nurse heard her grumbling and suggested she consider becoming a district nurse in a medically underserved area. Cathy looked into this idea, and her immediate reaction was, "Oh My God." Not just yes, but hell, yes. This is why she followed the path to nursing school. To help people. Somewhere along the line, she got the name of Doc Fredricks, the county public health administrator in a small rural county in upstate New York.

Cathy and Doc Fredricks talked. He tried every way he could to talk her out of taking the job loaded with problems. Doc saw many issues with the job. Cathy saw these issues as golden opportunities. A month later, Cathy was moving into a small cottage in Wexler's Mill on the edge of De Lek Kill, a small stream that flowed into the Hudson River. (In areas of New York where the Dutch initially settled. A small stream will often go by the original Dutch name. There, a stream might be called a 'kill.' In Virginia, a similar stream might be called a 'run.')

When Cathy first settled into her new place in Wexler's Mill, she emailed Erin, looking for suggestions on how to furnish her new home. Erin was delighted to hear from her old pal and sent countless tips and ideas. Erin ended her email by saying that she, too, had moved. Now, she was making her own home in Portland, Maine, where she worked as an architect. But still, she hadn't found a man that she felt comfortable with. Maybe a lobster fisherman there might haul her in. The firm that she worked for had offices in both Boston and New York, so she split her time between the two offices.

In the beginning - David

The village of Wexler's Mill traced its history to the original Dutch settlers in what became known as the Hudson River Valley. Jacob Dijk Wexler and his family established a trading post north of New Amsterdam on land given to him by the Dutch Crown at the time. Jacob faced an issue with the lands he had been given to settle and colonize. He held a royal warrant giving him two arpents of land surrounding a small stream, which he named De Lek Kill, that ran into the river. Below the stream, the land was open and easily farmable. But the majority of his land was above the stream. The problem was that a cliff ran from the river deep into the forest. Jacob explored the area north of the Kill and found a few hot springs near the river and, further back, some waterfalls. But little else other than an endless deciduous forest.

Jacob decided to establish a trading post on the south side of the Kill. He built a grist mill next to the trading post, hoping to sell flour and corn meal to the larger settlements on the river. Over time, the family always found ways to add to their land holdings. The grant gave Jacob and his son around fifty square miles off the river and inland. Ultimately, the family established a sawmill on the north side of the Kill. The lumber harvested from the forest became quarter-sawn fine Oak furniture, flooring, and custom cabinets. The mill's products became highly sought after as they were of exceptional quality. Today, Jacob Dijk Wexler's direct descendant, Dave Wexler, manages the family's holdings, and the same product lines flow out of the mill. Not much has changed since 1640, when Jacob first arrived on the land he had gotten from the Crown.

Dave was sent off to boarding school, as was the family's tradition. When holidays and summer vacation rolled around, he would often spend time in his dad's office, listening and watching what his dad did. He knew that one day, he would be sitting where his dad sat. Often, Dave would go to the company stables, where the company kept their draft horses, mostly Clydesdales, but there were a few Percherons in the herd as well. The horses were used to help get logs out of the forest and down to the sawmill, where the timber would be made into the company's products. On one of his wanderings, he discovered a magical place hidden in the forest a half mile or so, as a crow flew from the sawmill. There, he found a glade that opened as he came along his hidden trail and over a slight rise. There was a waterfall that fed a small pond at the base of the cliff. The falls became his special place. Here, Dave came to dream, think, and look to the future.

Dave's father, Arnold, wanted his only son to study forestry management in college. Dave agreed with his father's idea, as he needed to understand how to manage the company's primary assets, forests. But he also saw his dad's frustration in working with the financial and legal sides of the business. In college, Dave took a minor in Accounting to understand that side of the company. By doing that, he became eligible to take the CPA exam when he graduated from college.

After graduating, Dave joined the company's CPA firm and quickly passed the CPA exam. Next, he set his sights on law school.

After Dave finished law school and was admitted to the bar, his father demanded that his only son come home to work in the office beside him and learn the ropes of the business he would inherit. Dave quickly discovered that riding herd on the company's numerous parts was like riding a hurricane.

The company is known today as Tabletop Resource Company (TRC), which is a complex real estate and forest products company. It held large tracts of land and significant physical facilities in upstate New York and extensive holdings in the Appalachian Mountains. In the south, the company made various grades of plywood, laminated wood products, or as they were commonly called, lam beams and studs, and chipped pulp wood for paper mills. In New York, much of the company's work revolved around harvesting and milling hardwood lumber that was used to make flooring or fine furniture.

The Knickerbocker Society was a social group comprised of Hudson River Valley residents with family ties to the original Dutch or English settlers. The Wexler family had been active members of the Society for over a century. Dave's father, Arnold, encouraged him to participate so he would develop future contacts and networking opportunities. Eventually, Dave agreed with his dad and began attending events. He quickly became the center of attention for many young women and their mothers, who saw him as an excellent potential husband. But Dave felt much more comfortable sitting on a horse in the forest than at some event where he felt like a target with a bullseye painted on his back.

Arnold had been experiencing declining health since Dave was called home. It wasn't long after his return that his father passed away. Dave took over the company's leadership and intended to keep the company on the same path it had been. But, he had some modifications and enhancements in mind for the business.

In many ways, Wexler's Mill was locked in a time capsule. The village hadn't changed in decades. The Post Road along the riverbank had almost been forgotten. The skeletons of the old trading post and gristmill built by Jacob were still there, barely. The old camelback stone bridge over the Kill, built ages ago, is still used today. Dave wanted to find ways to show off his hometown. Other old historic towns along the river drew in lots of tourists. He kept asking himself, why not here? He had an idea to create a 'historic' replica collection of houses along the banks of the Kill. Dave's house, often called the Rockpile since it was made of native stone, was well over one hundred and fifty years old. The house had been the home of his family for all that time. The Rockpile could be the focal point of the reconstructed village at one end. On the other end, a rebuilt Trading Post and Gristmill. Between the two buildings could be a collection of period-correct houses and buildings.

Looking at Wexler's Mill today objectively, the first thing that was needed was a place to get coffee and a meal. There wasn't any now. Another idea Dave had was to build a marina that would support the boats that cruised the river. The marina could have a fuel dock, a place to tie up while visiting the area, and even mooring for permanent stays. Doing this would increase traffic in the village. Something else that brought tons of people into other communities was a craft and farmer's market. So? Why not have one here? A market could offer items that the folks who lived here made in their homes or vegetables grown in their gardens. Many people with vegetable gardens had a surplus they tried to give away to friends, neighbors, and people where they worked. This would give them a market to sell their produce. A couple who lived outside of town was well known for making goat cheese. This could give them a local place to sell their cheese. Some other people made split wooden baskets. He knew there were a lot of very talented people who would benefit from having this avenue open to them. Other small towns along the river did this. Why not here, echoed in Dave's mind.

To realize his idea of starting up a place to get a cup of coffee and a quick meal, Dave knew he had to get someone to come in who knew how to make this real. He asked a few people in the Knickerbocker Society who were involved in restaurants in New York. If they knew someone who could help start a place in the village. The almost unanimous answer was hell yes. Everyone suggested Grumpy, who had won several awards. He had a reputation for giving anyone his opinion, whether or not he was asked. It was common knowledge that he wanted out of the City. And, since he was married, you'd get his wife, Judy, too. Dave invited them to meet with him in Wexler's Mill. The pair was amazed at what they saw there and what Dave wanted to do in the area. In their opinion, Wexler's Mill was wide open; there were no other restaurants in the area. They could create the small restaurant they always wanted. Six months later, Grumpy's Diner opened, and people quickly made the diner into the social hub of the community. Grumpy ruled the kitchen with a simple philosophy. There are two items on the menu - take it or leave it. While Judy worked at the cash register and served whatever came out of the kitchen. But if you wanted something to drink, like coffee or water. Get it yourself. And remember to put your dirty dishes in the dish pan. Your momma don't work here. With a hidden smile, Dave could check one item off his list.

The marina was underway across the street from the diner. Restoring the old trading post and mill on the post road was in the planning stages. His idea was to create a collection of historically correct buildings depicting life along the De Lek Kill in precolonial days, which was also in the planning stages. The idea that floated around in the back of his head was that these colonial homes could be the prototype for kit homes the company could sell. The stumbling block to all this was building a new house for him. He had talked with the architect handling the 'village' about creating this new house. Since the architect was uncomfortable riding a horse, Dave got ahold of a four-wheeler. He took the architect out to his magical place hidden in the forest. The architect was amazed at the site's natural beauty. But he saw nothing but problems building out here. There was no road to the site. Nor was there any electricity. All around the building site were outcroppings of rock, which would make building here impossible, he felt. The list of concerns and objections of the architect had become almost endless. Dave smiled, then stated firmly. "This was where my new home will be built. The house will be a demonstration project for my company's various forest products. Yes, that meant using lam beams as structural members and laminated studs. As far as the road goes, getting one in would take less than a week, including the time to fill the roadbed with crushed rock. The sawmill is about a half mile away, as the crow files. There's a geothermal electrical generator running there. The mill uses less than sixty percent of the generator's capacity presently. Getting the needed cables here shouldn't be an issue. The house will have geothermal heating, which will require some engineering. But it is doable." This conversation with his client got the architect to recognize that the house would be built on the client's desired site. But he'd move very carefully and slowly on the project, hoping Dave would change his mind as the architect recognized the many problems of building here.