Arden inhaled—the smell of summer filling her nostrils—and tried to relax. She stared at the Manitou Islands sitting just a few miles out into Lake Michigan.
Manitou was comprised of two islands—North and South—that rose out of the lake like humpback whales. Arden had never visited the islands. They were accessible only by boat and were popular for hiking and camping, but she always wondered how the islands came to be.
“You’ve always been such a serious girl,” Lolly said, taking a sip of water and staring at her daughter, as if she were reading her mind. “Do you remember when we’d come here when you were a child, and you’d ask how many lifeguards were on duty, or if I brought enough books for you to read, or if there were sharks in the water?”
Arden nodded.
“While other kids were swimming, building sand castles, burying one another, or flying kites, you were always by yourself working and worrying. I always admired your drive and determination, Arden. I still do. You are so talented. But I always worried that you’d end up, well, like this … You still don’t know how to cut loose, relax, have fun. And I worry that is your great undoing.”
Arden stared down at her towel.
“The funny thing is, my dear, I was exactly like you as a child,” Lolly added.
Arden perked up and Lauren tilted her head. A lake breeze ruffled Lolly’s wig and she again found the kite charm and held it out, the sunlight illuminating the silver kite and its long tail.
“But this little charm freed me.”
Twelve
1954
Vi Dobbs secured the geometrically patterned scarf over her bald head, twirled around in her bikini, and asked, “How do I look?”
“Beautiful, Mommy!” Lolly answered.
And she was being honest. Her mother—with her high cheekbones and freckled face, blue eyes, pink lips, and girlish figure—was still the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.
Even bald.
“You sure you’re up to this, Vi?”
“Sssshhhh! Yes! Of course!”
Vi shot her husband a look that silenced him immediately. She had spent the morning in the cabin’s tiny bathroom sicker than a dog, but it was a perfect beach day—low eighties, no humidity, slight breeze, pure sunshine—and Vi took little Lolly to Scoops Beach every perfect summer day.
Outside the cabin, Lost Land Lake glimmered with all the possibility of life.
An invisible calendar whirled through Vi’s mind, and she shut her eyes to stop the tears that wanted to flow.
How many perfect summer days do I have left with my daughter? she wondered.
“Are you okay, Mommy?”
Vi bent down and took her daughter’s face in her hands, the reflection from the charms on her bracelet casting her little girl in dancing light.
“I’m perfectly fine, my angel! Are you ready to have some fun today?”
Lolly gave her mother an uneasy smile. “I’m okay. Do we have enough water? Is it going to be too hot?”
Vi took a seat in a rocker next to the sewing machine by a window overlooking the lake, and patted her knees. She picked her daughter up and whispered into her ear, “We have enough water, and it’s a beautiful day.”
Lolly looked skeptically at her mother, and Vi’s heart broke. Since she had been diagnosed with cancer, Lolly had gone from little girl to old soul almost overnight, consumed by worry.
“You don’t need permission to have fun, Lolly,” Vi continued to whisper in her daughter’s ear. “Fun is the one thing we can do anytime we want. Fun is always free!”
“I don’t feel fun,” Lolly said. “I feel sad.”
Vi bounced her knee, trying to shake a giggle out of her little girl, but Lolly clung to the arms of the rocker, refusing to be shaken out of her sadness.
“It’s okay to be sad,” Vi said, gently rocking her daughter. “But you can’t be sad too long, or it will make everyone around you sad. Fun brings out the good in everyone. That’s why we’re going to the beach today. I always want you to remember this: When the world is too much to take and when you feel sad, go to the beach and dig in the sand. Run on the beach so the wind blows your hair around. Jump in the lake and scream like you did the first time you swam in Lake Michigan. And fly a kite into the summer sky, so high that”—Vi’s voice trembled, but she rocked the tremor away—“I can touch it from heaven and make it dance.
“Listen to me, Lolly: Life can be hard. It can be downright awful and sad. But you must never forget to have fun. It’s the most important thing. Okay?”
Lolly shook her head reluctantly. “Okay.”
“Then let’s go to the beach!”
As the Woodie backed out of the gravel driveway of the cabin, Vi honked at Vern, who waved as he headed—fishing pole, tackle box, and minnow bucket in hand—into the reeds of Lost Land Lake to work his job as a fishing guide.