*
Wes turned off the highway onto the gravel road leading to Lost Lake a little too quickly, and gravel spit out from behind his wheels. He felt he couldn’t get there fast enough. He needed to explain what was going on before anyone else had a chance to tell Eby. He owed her that.
He wanted her to know that all this, everything that was happening, started and ended with her. Lazlo was family, sure. And that blood connection meant something to Wes. More than it should, considering his uncle had never really been around when Wes was growing up. But Eby and, by extension, the lake were everything good about his childhood. Wes and his brother, Billy, used to come here every day, walking from their cabin in the woods. When Wes’s mother left, his father had seethed with resentment, hating his circumstances and everyone who had done him wrong, until that was all he thought about. Inside he was no longer human, just churning flames. He turned to alcohol and then, almost inevitably, violence. Eby was the one who mended Wes’s and Billy’s clothes and gave them breakfast before school and threw them birthday parties, inviting their classmates to the lake. Lisette served pistachio and rose water ice cream and cakes made of dark chocolate.
After the fire, after he lost his brother and father, Wes moved away from the family property, and then there had been Daphne, his foster mother, who had been everything good about his teenage years.
If not for those two old women, Wes was sure he would be either dead, drunk, or incarcerated by now.
He and Eby still kept in touch. He’d see her sometimes in town. Every once in a while she’d stop by the restaurant to have a slice and catch up. But this was the first time in years that he’d been out here. As the lake came into view, he saw that the place had aged dramatically and seemed to have grown smaller. Everything felt precarious, as if one good rainstorm would wash it away.
He parked at the main house and went directly inside, finding Eby at the front desk. She had her back to him, reaching for a cabin key on the wall of hooks. Curiously, she had dust on the back of her head and on the backside of her clothing, as if she’d been lying on a rug that hadn’t been vacuumed in a while.
His throat thickened as he watched her. She’d always been a thin woman, but she seemed so fragile to him now, as reedy and brittle as dried grass. It had almost killed him to lose his foster mother four years ago. He didn’t want to lose Eby too. He knew the end of Lost Lake didn’t mean the end of Eby, but he was still going to miss her, miss knowing where to find her. He should have checked in more. He should have come out here before now. If he had, he would have seen how much repair work the place needed, and he would have fixed it. There’s a point where anything can be saved. The trick is knowing when. And he had missed it.
But if this was what Eby had decided on, then it was the right decision. Eby didn’t make bad choices. Everyone knew that. There wasn’t a person in town who hadn’t found him-or herself driving out to the lake because life had become too crowded or too noisy, their marriage was a wreck, or they hated their boss. And they always sought out Eby. They would sit in the dining room and have coffee and snack on something Lisette was experimenting with in the kitchen—lemon curd or yogurt sorbet or corn soup. It hadn’t been unusual to see Eby walking the wooded trail around the lake with someone from town, heads together, deep in conversation. There was even a cabin at Lost Lake, number 2, where harried mothers would come to stay for a night of blissful silence, no questions asked. Eby had a reputation for fixing things. If people really wanted to change, she knew what to do. She would jump off a bridge after you if she thought she could help.
Somewhere along the way, though, they’d forgotten how much they’d needed her. They should have told her sooner. Wes should have told her sooner.
Key in hand, Eby turned and saw him standing there. “Wesley! Hello! I’m just … um, going through the cabins, doing inventory.” She paused, looking at him curiously. “What are you doing here?”
“Lazlo wants my land too,” Wes said quickly, just to get it all out. “I’ll be investing in this development. It just happened, just today. And I wanted to tell you first. Lazlo’s never had any interest in my land until now. And I haven’t done anything yet. I’m waiting for your deal with him to go through first, just in case you decide not to sell.”
Eby smiled at his outburst. “That’s sweet of you, Wesley. But you don’t have to wait. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Lazlo doesn’t think you will.”
Eby searched his face. “But you do?”
“I want you to do whatever makes you happy, Eby.”
“And I want the same for you,” she said, walking around the desk. She drew him into a fierce hug. He held her lightly, afraid he might break her. She pulled back and saw his hands were covered in dust from her clothes. “The cabins haven’t been cleaned in a while,” she said as she brushed his hands. “Now, are you sure you want to give up your family land?”
“Nothing but bad memories and a burned-out cabin there,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll be glad to get rid of it.”
“What about your good memories?” she said, putting her cool hand to his cheek.
“All my good memories are here.” He looked away, embarrassed.
At that moment, the door opened and he stepped back to keep from getting hit by it. From behind the door, he watched Kate and her daughter enter in a blast of chatter, filling the air with the scent of shampoo and sunblock and raspberries and onions. Kate was carrying the large open cardboard box full of groceries from the Fresh Mart. He was surprised that he’d gotten here before them.
“Kate!” Eby said, surprised. “What are you doing? What is this?”
“Lisette asked me to pick up some groceries for her,” Kate said, shifting the box in her arms. “We would have been here sooner, but we had to go back because Selma forgot to buy hand lotion.”
“Lisette asked you to pick this up? I thought Jack had taken her. So she’s been here the whole time? That imp! She’s probably been tiptoeing around so I wouldn’t hear her,” Eby said, turning on her heel and striding to the dining room, where she was soon heard banging on the kitchen door, demanding that Lisette unlock it.
“Here, let me take that,” Wes said, stepping out from the other side of the door. “It looks heavy.”
Kate yelped and almost dropped the cardboard box. Wes reached out and grabbed it.
The little girl laughed. “He scared you!”
“Yes, yes, “Kate said, embarrassed. “Very funny.”
“You should have seen your face!”
“I’ll just take this to Lisette,” Wes said.
“Thanks,” Kate said, and he watched her brow knit, studying him. Now that he was closer, he could see that she was paler than he remembered, like she didn’t spend a lot of time in the sun anymore. Some freckles he hadn’t known were there were visible along her nose. She saw something familiar about him, but it didn’t click. It was for the best. He turned away and heard her say to her daughter, “Scoot, you. Let’s help Bulahdeen with her bottles.”
They left, taking with them that chattering breeze, leaving the house in still silence. Eby had stopped knocking, and there was something in the air in those few moments before Lisette opened the door to the kitchen and Eby said, “You’re not sixteen anymore.” And Bulahdeen came in with several bottles of wine and said, “Wes! I haven’t seen you in years! You need to come to our party!”
Something that had felt almost like hope.