*
That afternoon, Eby was gazing at the ceiling in cabin number 9. There was a water stain here that looked like a bicycle wheel. It had been here for years, growing progressively larger. It had appeared the year George died. Back then it had looked like a tiny black beetle, and she used to come to this cabin and stare at it, sometimes swearing it would move, that it would run around the ceiling and spell out words like hope and love and real. But then she would blink and the words would go away. The stain was in the corner of the room, and its moisture had caused the coral wallpaper to peel away from the top. She’d always meant to fix that tiny leak, but then she’d thought, What if the ceiling wanted to tell me something else? So she’d left it.
This cabin also had a truly magnificent sleigh bed, antique and handcrafted. The camp was scattered with antiques from Eby and George’s halcyon days, hidden like secret treasure among the cheaper stuff. The vanity next to the yard-sale dresser was one George had bought on their honeymoon, an antique with inlay, the mirror slightly smoky, as if it would magically show you the most beautiful version of yourself if you asked. But she’d never asked. Her sister Marilee had been the beautiful one in their family. Even so, George, who had risen to the top of Atlanta’s eligible bachelors when he’d unexpectedly inherited his estranged grandfather’s money, had chosen Eby over her. Oh, Marilee had tried to win him. But she would have had to overcome a lifetime of teasing him in school about his red hair and bad teeth. Eby had always been kind to him, in love with him most of her life because he drew the most beautiful things with pencil and paper during classes. He was a dreamer, like her. And he’d wanted to marry her when he’d inherited his money, much to everyone’s surprise. He could have had his pick of beautiful belles. He could have had Marilee, before she’d fallen in love with Talbert, the gas station attendant. But he’d loved only Eby.
You didn’t need a mirror to tell you that you were beautiful when you had proof like that.
There was a knock on the door, then she heard Kate call, “Eby?”
Startled, Eby sat up on the dusty bed. She thought she could come here in secret. She thought Kate would be like everyone else and fall under the siesta spell that summer afternoons at Lost Lake were famous for casting.
After an initial panic, she decided not to bother getting off the bed. She’d been caught. There was no use trying to hide it. “I’m in here,” Eby said.
Kate walked in. She was wearing cutoff shorts and a quirky gray T-shirt printed with a giant bicycle that looked like it was parked on top of a tiny old-fashioned circus. The two large Ferris wheels from the circus below magically rose up and morphed into the bicycle wheels. PHERIS WHEELS, ATLANTA, GEORGIA was written underneath it.
Eby found herself studying Kate. She had a face that people liked to look at, just to figure it out. Pretty, yes, but not symmetrical, her eyes a little too wide, her nose a little too long. She was thin, but a thin that could only go so small, stopped by good muscle and big bones. All the women in their family had sturdy frames. They weren’t made to break, but most of them did anyway, blown down by that perfect storm called love.
“I saw that the number nine key was missing off the key wall, so I figured you were here,” Kate said. “I was just wondering about the inventory you said you wanted to do. I want to help all I can before we leave.”
“Thank you,” Eby said. She patted the dusty bed, and Kate crawled up and sat beside her.
“What are you doing in here?” Kate asked as she looked around the room.
“Thinking, mostly.”
“About what?”
“Lots of things. Today I was thinking about George. When we first bought the camp, we spent a year doing repairs. Then, when we were ready to open, George drove far and wide in every direction, leaving brochures anyplace a store owner would let him. The brochures had a photo of us on the front. Our first guests were unconventional—free spirits and hippies. We seemed to attract oddballs, and we didn’t know why. Don’t get me wrong. We loved it. But I’ll never forget the first summer Bulahdeen and her husband arrived. She said they chose Lost Lake because of the brochure. She said that she took one look at the photo of me and George and thought, I’m a misfit like them, so maybe I could be happy there, too.”
That made Kate laugh. “She was right. Misfits need a place to get away, too. All that trying to fit in is exhausting.”
Eby looked over at her great-niece. Her smile changed her entire face, widening her lips and crinkling her eyes. What was she doing here, hiding out with a bunch of old people? She should be moving on, living her life the way it was meant to be lived. She’d gotten through the hard part. Happiness now was inevitable, if she just let it happen. “You said you were in the middle of moving. Aren’t you in a hurry to go back to your new place?” Eby asked.
Kate’s smile faded. “It’s complicated.”
Eby waited.
Kate folded her legs in front of her and picked at the strings of her cutoffs. “I was paralyzed, living in the house I’d shared with Matt. So my mother-in-law helped me sell it. I actually made a lot of money. But, instead of finding another house to live in, like any normal person would, I decided to move in with my mother-in-law. I let her take over, and it wasn’t the right decision. I realize that now. I need to clear the air.” She took a deep breath and turned to Eby. “So, yes, I have to go back. But, no, I’m not in a hurry. I’m here for you. I can stay all summer, if you need me to. I don’t think Devin would object.”
Eby smiled. “You can stay as long as you like.”
“Devin said she saw an alligator this morning. I found her on the dock, damp with lake water, holding an ugly root she said the alligator gave her. If he’s giving her gifts now, I’m never going to get her to leave.”
Eby wedged a pillow behind her and sat back. “You used to give your mother fits here at the lake, too. Disappearing all day, coming back smelling of lake water, bugs in your clothes. Sometimes you and Wes would have a frog with you. A couple of times you even captured scorpions in a jar. Your mother used to make you sleep with a shower cap full of baby powder on your hair to get the lake smell out.”
Kate laughed. “I’d forgotten about that.”
Eby hesitated before asking her next question. She was better off not knowing, because there was nothing she could do. But leaving Kate’s mother when she was a little girl was one of the hardest things Eby had ever done. “How was Quinn? I mean, was her life good?”
“She was happy when my dad was alive,” Kate said. “After he was gone, she hated to be alone. When I was in high school, I stayed home most nights so she wouldn’t get so anxious. She was pretty much my best friend back then. Then I met Matt in college, and we moved in with her when I got pregnant. She liked having Devin around. I think that was the happiest she’d been since Dad died.”
“The house you sold, was it the pink brick house on Dora Cove Road?”
Kate looked surprised. “That’s the one. Mom’s house. I didn’t know you’d ever visited.”
“I didn’t,” Eby said. “George and I bought that house for your grandmother when her husband died. Your mother was only about three at the time.”
“You bought the house?”