Lost Lake

14

A short time later, already sweating as the sun rose higher in the sky, Kate and Devin broke through the woods and finally found themselves on the dirt road leading to Wes’s old cabin.

They walked up the road, and as soon as the clearing came into view, so did a large white van with Wes’s handyman logo on it.

Wes was leaning against the front of the van, staring at where the cabin had once stood. He was wearing shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and black sunglasses hid his eyes. He was as still as a statue.

Before she could take Devin’s hand to quietly lead her away, not wanting to disturb his moment with this place, Devin yelled, “Wes!” and ran toward him.

He turned quickly.

Devin reached him and hugged him, which made him smile and he put his arms gently around her fairy wings.

He watched as Kate approached him.

“We didn’t know you’d be here,” Kate said. “Do you want us to leave?”

“No, not at all,” he said. “I had a job down the highway this morning. On my way back, I found myself turning up the old road to this place. I don’t know why.”

Devin ran into the clearing. Her wings were starting to droop. They’d seen better days. They’d snagged on some branches on the trail, and there was a bit of Spanish moss clinging to one of them.

Kate leaned against the van beside him. The engine was cool. He’d been here awhile. They hadn’t interacted much at the party after bringing Devin back from the woods. They hadn’t danced again. Kate wasn’t sure where they stood.

“I talked to my uncle one last time this morning,” Wes said. “I couldn’t change his mind. He said he’ll still be coming by late this afternoon to give Eby another chance to sign over her land. Otherwise, he said he’s going to sue. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry I got mad at you at the party,” Kate said. “I know you’d never do anything to hurt Eby.”

“What do you think she’ll do? Do you think she’ll fight him?”

“Oh, she’ll fight him,” Kate said. “But I don’t know what will happen.”

“What are you going to do?”

She pretended to think about it. “Oh, I don’t know. What are the schools like around here?”

“The schools?” he asked. “They’re good.”

“What are their dress codes like? Do they allow tutus and fairy wings?”

He looked to Devin, then back to Kate, his brows rising from under his sunglasses. “Are you staying?”

“Fifteen years ago, I never wanted to leave in the first place,” she said. “I’m just finally making my way back.”

He smiled and made a huh sound. He paused, and she could see the tension growing in his shoulders as some sort of realization set in. “There was something of yours in the Alligator Box. If you’re staying, I think I need to show it to you now.”

“Something of mine?”

He pushed himself away from the van, then went to the side door and pulled it open. The Alligator Box was there, tucked in a mesh hammock. He opened the box and took out a plastic sandwich bag. Inside the bag was a letter. He handed it to her.

On wide-ruled paper, in fading gray pencil, Wes had written:

Dear Kate,

I was sad that you had to leave. You didn’t even say good-bye. But that’s okay. I know your parents made you go. I asked Eby for your address and I’m writing you to tell you that I’m coming to Atlanta to live! Yes, you read that right. My uncle Lazlo lives there, and he will take me and Billy and my dad in. My dad works in construction, and I’m sure Lazlo will give him a job. Please write when you get this and tell me what school you go to so I can go there, too, since we’re in the same grade. Won’t that be great? Maybe we can get lockers beside each other. Will they let us do that? I’ll sit beside you at lunch, if that’s okay, until I meet more people. I’m hoping Lazlo will give me an allowance if I do chores for him and my aunt Deloris. I have two cousins I don’t like very much because I heard them once call us embarrassing, but it will be worth it to be nearer to you. Once I get some money, would you like to go to the movies with me? My treat!

Listen. This is a secret. Don’t tell anyone, okay? Dad will never leave this place, and Lazlo thinks we’re fine as long as we have this land and a roof over our heads. So I have to get rid of the cabin. I’m going to set fire to it on Monday after Dad leaves for work. Billy and I will be out of the house with our stuff, and we’ll watch it burn. It will take forever for the fire department to get here. Dad got drunk once and fell down and hit his head, and it took an hour for the ambulance to get here. No one ever believes us when we say something’s wrong here. I don’t know why.

I’m enclosing Lazlo’s address in Atlanta. Write me there, please? It’s probably big in Atlanta. I hope I don’t get lost. Maybe I will finally get a bike. Is there water there? Billy would like that.

Sincerely yours,

Wesley Patterson

P.S. DON’T TELL ANYONE!

Kate’s lips parted as she read it. She realized she’d been holding her breath and finally made herself exhale. It didn’t help. She felt light-headed.

She looked up at Wes.

“No,” he said, reading her expression. “It’s not your fault.”

“You set the fire. Because of me.” She looked around wildly, at the bare spot where his cabin had once stood.

“No,” he said again. “I did it because I wanted a new life, another life. That was true long before you showed up.” He made her look him in the eye. “Kate, it’s not your fault.”

Kate gave him a jerky nod and handed him back the letter. He looked at it one last time before putting it back in the box. He closed the van door, and the sound echoed over the clearing.

“I didn’t even know my father was at home that morning,” Wes said, his hand still on the door handle. “I heard what I thought was his truck pulling away, going to work like usual. I even looked in the garage, and the truck was gone. I didn’t know that he’d gotten so drunk the night before that he’d left his truck at the bar and someone had given him a ride home. The sound I heard was him being dropped off that morning. He was passed out on the floor on the far side of his bed, and I had no idea. And Billy … I didn’t tell Billy what I was going to do. I’d packed our stuff the night before and hidden it in the woods. I doused the house with gasoline from a container my father kept to burn stumps. I picked up Billy—he was still sleeping—and I threw down a match as I reached the front door. My God, the sound it made. My ears popped. I ran into the woods, and Billy had woken up by this time. I remember him looking around, trying to figure out what was going on. I didn’t think I had anything to worry about. He trusted me. He always trusted me. I told him what I did, and he got this worried look on his face. He started going through the things I’d taken from the house. He was looking for something.”

“The Alligator Box,” Kate said softly.

Wes nodded. “I’d looked everywhere for it in the house the night before. It wasn’t there. I know it wasn’t there. When you grow up with a father like ours, you learn to hide the things you love very well. Billy had hidey-holes all over the place. I knew where all of them were in the house, so I’d assumed he’d hidden it in one of his secret places in the woods. I can still see him taking off toward the burning house. He caught me off guard. I ran after him, but I slid in the dew and fell. I knocked one of my teeth out. I looked up to see him race into the smoke without the slightest hesitation. Completely fearless. I ran up to the porch, screaming his name. The smoke was black, and it was so hot the air singed the hair on my arms. I backed in, covering my face. I remember the explosion, and I remember the feel of the fire against my back. I remember being airborne and landing on my face again in the grass. And that’s it. I woke up in the hospital. They told me that my father set the fire, and I was too shocked to correct them. I’ve never corrected them.”

“That’s why you asked about the letter that first day on the dock,” Kate said, stunned. “You thought I knew.”

“I hadn’t thought about it in years. Not until I saw you again.”

Impulsively, she drew him into her arms and held him tightly, fiercely, the way Eby would, wanting to save him from what had happened, even though it was too late. “Your secrets were always mine,” Kate whispered. “I never would have said anything. Not then, not now.”

Wes smiled at her with complete understanding when she stepped back. He knew the emotions she was going through. He’d been living with them for so long that it was like a second skin to him, like the scars on his back. “I know. That’s why I sent it in the first place. Or thought I sent it. I don’t know how it ended up in the Alligator Box.” He walked back to the front of the van, and she followed. “I put the letter in the mailbox by the road. I clearly remember doing that.”

Kate thought about it for a moment. “If the box was in the lake, why did Billy go back into the house?”

“I think it was in the house,” Wes said. “You saw it. The box had been burnt. But by the time I got out of the hospital, what was left of the house had been torn down.”

“So you think someone must have taken it from the rubble and put it in the lake.”

“Yes. But who?” Wes shrugged helplessly. “I’ll never know.”

Kate thought about Devin and the alligator, and suddenly something clicked into place. Maybe Kate had grown up and lost her ability to see it, but she hadn’t lost her ability to believe in it. “Devin told me something after she found the Alligator Box, and it got me thinking.” She turned to him. “Do you want to hear a story?”

Wes looked at her curiously, just like he’d done when he was a boy.

She smiled though her heart felt old and heavy. “One last story, for old time’s sake.”

“Okay. Sure.”

So she told him.

“Once upon a time there was a little boy named Billy. He loved alligators. He loved them so much that he wanted to be one. He thought about it every day. He dreamed about it every night. There was no doubt in his mind that it was going to happen. One thing Billy knew that most people don’t know is that the longer you have a wish, the closer you get to it becoming true. Most people never get what they want because they change what they want, change it to something more practical or reachable. Billy never looked to the future and saw himself as a grown-up. He saw himself with alligator skin and alligator teeth, swimming underwater and sunning himself on some soft grass somewhere. Billy felt sorry for other people who gave up their wishes so easily.

“One morning something happened, something terrible. There was a fire, and Billy’s little-boy life ended. His brother was devastated. He missed Billy. What his brother didn’t realize was that Billy rose from the ashes of the fire that day. Not like a phoenix. Like an alligator. Billy got what he wished for.

“He stayed around the house for a while. He waited to see if his brother would come back. But his alligator instincts began to get the better of him, and he wanted to find water. He took his Alligator Box and he went to Lost Lake. Years and years went by, and Billy could feel the human side of himself getting smaller and smaller, until only two things remained, the two strongest, best memories of his life as a little boy. The memory of how much he loved his brother, and the memory of how safe Lost Lake made him feel. He kept to himself, stayed out of the way, because that’s what alligators do. But he watched. His brother would visit the lake, and he watched him grow up to be good man. He was proud of him. He watched as the people at the lake got older and fewer people came back. Then a little girl arrived and, miraculously, she understood him. So he told her everything. He told her about the box. He said his brother felt alone in the world, and that this box would help him, because then he would know that somewhere out there Billy was safe and happy. He was sorry he took the letter from the mailbox. He just didn’t want to leave.”

Wes had lifted his face to the sky, listening to her with his eyes closed. He finally looked away and rubbed at his eyes under his sunglasses.

Sometimes, all you need is something to believe in.

“I’d almost forgotten how good you were at that,” he finally said, and laughed a watery laugh. “Those stories were the sound track of my summer with you.”

He turned and lifted himself up onto the short hood of his van, then he held out a hand to her. Smiling, she took it, and he lifted her up beside him.

They sat there for a long time in silence, their bare legs touching slightly, before Wes said softly, “Thank you for coming back.”

They watched as Devin, who had been running around the clearing, stopped to kneel in front of the lone-standing chimney and look up inside it. A startled bird flew out of the top of the chimney, a black blur against the blue sky, thready with clouds that looked like pieces of string. Higher and higher it flew, until it disappeared and the only thing left was the fullness of the day in front of them.

“Thank you for waiting,” she finally said.

Kate knocked on Eby’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” Eby called.

Kate opened the door. Rays of the setting sun were sending waxy copper splashes across the far wall. Eby was sitting at her vanity in her bedroom, pulling her long silver hair into a bun at the nape of her neck. The way the shadows hit her face, she looked like she was made of veined marble.

“Am I interrupting?” Kate said, looking around. The room looked like a time capsule from the 1960s. There were two twins beds with pink quilted bedspreads and ornate headboards, dark-wood furniture, and blown-glass lamps with brown shades and pineapple finials. The wallpaper was faded pink with row after row of tiny, shiny, silver Eiffel Towers. It gave more insight into Eby’s past than any photo could have.

“No.” Eby patted the seat next to her on the long padded bench. “Sit here with me.”

Kate slid in next to her and looked at all the postcards from Europe that Eby had tucked around the mirror.

“No Lazlo yet?” Kate asked.

“No Lazlo yet. But I called a lawyer friend of mine, just as your mother-in-law suggested. He said he’d drive into town after he gets off work today.”

“That’s good. Whatever happens, I want to be here, too. I want to help. And the money from the sale of my house is yours. To fight Lazlo, to go to Europe, whatever you decide.”

“That means the world to me. Thank you, Kate. But that money is your nest egg, and I’m not going to let you invest in this place, in me, until I know for sure what’s going to happen.”

“Are these from your honeymoon?” Kate asked, indicating the postcards.

Eby stared at them. “Yes.”

“Is this where you’ll go back?”

“It’s where I’ll visit. I’ll never go back, though. I mailed these to myself, from Paris and Amsterdam. I thought, when I was old, I would sit here like this and think that it was the best time in my life. I had no idea that the future held such possibilities. I think I’ll keep them here now to see how far I’ve come.”

Kate tucked her hands under her legs. “I had a similar experience today. You know that letter Wes was supposed to have sent me, the one he asked you for my address for? He found it and let me read it. He wanted to come to Atlanta, to be with me.”

“He told you he set the fire,” Eby said. Just like that. Like it was obvious.

“You knew?”

“We all knew,” Eby said. “The whole town thought we’d let him down. We weren’t going to let him be punished for something that we could have prevented if we’d just tried a little harder to get him out of that situation. Don’t be hard on him. He’s punished himself enough.”

Kate nodded.

“Wesley will like having you here again,” Eby said with a smile. “If you don’t mind my saying.”

Kate’s stomach trembled with that particular anxiety that always heralded something good. She put her hand there to stop it. She wasn’t sure she trusted it. “I don’t know exactly what he is to me anymore. My past? My present? My future?”

Eby squeezed her arm comfortingly. “I think Wes will be anything you want him to be.”

Kate smiled at her aunt in the mirror. Kate liked having Eby near, liked her quiet and her calmness. Whatever happens, she seemed to say, it’s going to be all right. We’ll all be all right. We’re in this together.

It had been a long, long time since Kate had felt that way.

They watched as the sun moved the light across the room, two generations of Morris women tired of curses.

And ready for a happily ever after.

Lisette was closing down the kitchen for the evening, doing her nightly ritual of counting plates and utensils, making dough for chive biscuits in the morning, then finally taking off her apron. She had wandered outside last night and had stayed up too long. She had missed breakfast, throwing off her routine. As hard as she had tried today, she still could not get it back. There was a sense of change in the air and she hated it. She had just placed the apron on the counter when Jack entered without knocking. He was wearing his traveling clothes, his polo and his blazer and his driving moccasins.

He charged in like a bull, but then he stopped, as if not knowing what came next.

“I’ve made a decision,” he said.

She nodded. He was leaving. He had seemed so happy yesterday, when it had seemed like everything was going back to normal, when it had seemed like they were not losing Lost Lake. It had hurt more than she thought it would. He would carry on with his life, and she would continue to be such a small part of it. It had been enough for so long. She did not know why she had changed her mind.

He looked around, trying to decide what to do. He took a step toward the chair and Lisette automatically put up her hand to stop him. Luc was watching with considerable interest.

“Is that chair important to you?” Jack asked.

Lisette sighed. Luc sits there. The boy who committed suicide because I rejected him.

Jack read that and said, “I was beginning to suspect as much.” Jack turned to the chair. It was obvious he could not see Luc, but still he said, completely seriously, “It’s nice to meet you, Luc.”

Luc laughed at that. Lisette censored him with just a look.

“So Luc is haunting you,” Jack said, and Lisette had to wonder at how such a sensible man could so easily believe such a thing.

Lisette hesitated before she wrote, I do not know. What I do know is that every day, I wake up and see him and I think to myself, I will not hurt another human being the way I hurt him.

“You’ve never hurt me,” Jack said.

Lisette shook her head sharply. Of course not. She did not let herself. And their time together was always so brief.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to Richmond to close up my house for good, but I’ll be back. I’ve always wanted to see fall at Lost Lake. And I bet Christmas here is beautiful. And if Eby loses Lost Lake, well, I think Suley would be a nice place to retire.”

Her breath caught in her chest. He was staying? He was close enough that she could smell the soap he had used that morning, something rich and southern, piney and sharp. She loved that smell. She loved his coarse gray-and-white hair and the lines on his face. Luc was behind him now, and Lisette’s eyes darted to the younger man. It was just now occurring to Lisette that the longer she knew Jack, the more Luc looked like him. Just recently, she had noticed a mole near his ear that she had not seen before. It was the same mole Jack had.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m not leaving you. I’m fighting for you, Lisette. Against him, if necessary.” He nodded to the chair. “I’ve never met a person that I could be so quiet with and yet communicate so much. You have no idea what that means to someone like me. Just knowing you were in the world kept me going. And coming here every summer probably saved my life. Do you understand?” he whispered. “You saved me.”

Lisette reached out, her hand almost reaching his hair before she stopped. Had she really? Had she saved him? Had she managed to do for him what she had not been able to do for Luc?

He smiled and took her outstretched hand. “I don’t have to say it, do I? Eby called me and told me to come here and say it, as if you didn’t already know. But you know, don’t you?”

Lisette nodded as she watched him go, then she turned desperately to Luc with tears in her eyes. She knew Jack loved her. She had always known. It was written on his face that very first summer. And she loved him. But it felt bottled inside her chest, and she could not let it out. She did not deserve Luc’s love when she was sixteen. Did she really think she deserved Jack’s love now?

Luc smiled at her, then made a little shooing motion with his hand, telling her to go.

But she ran to him instead, going to her knees and burying her face in his lap. She could not see what she was gaining for all that she was losing.

She felt Luc’s hand on her hair, and she looked up at him.

She did not need to write down what she wanted to tell him. He knew what she was thinking. I do not want to lose you.

He pointed in the direction that Jack had left.

If I go to him, will you be here when I get back?

He shook his head.

I will not go unless you promise to always be with me.

Luc reached out and touched her cheek. He mouthed the word toujours.

Always.

Then she watched him slowly fade away.

She opened her mouth and howled, though no sound came out. She cried and beat the chair, then beat herself, then curled into a fetal position on the floor. She hated loss. She had fought for so long to keep exactly what she had exactly the way it was, like liquid measured perfectly into a cup, because she did not ever want to feel this way again.

She did not remember much about the next few hours. She remembered coming to, opening her eyes, and the first thing she saw was a tiny spider, crawling along the floor next to the cabinets.

The last time she had felt this empty, she had gone to the Bridge of the Untrue and jumped. She sat up. But she did not recognize that girl any longer. The past fifty years had changed her. Eby had made her a different person—her goodness, her vitality, her fearlessness. She had watched Eby go through that most horrible time in her life, when George died, and she had seen her recover. She had seen her face losing Lost Lake, and she did not cease to function. She continued on.

Because of Eby, she knew something now that she did not know then.

Lisette took a deep breath and stood up.

When your cup is empty, you do not mourn what is gone.

Because if you do, you will miss the opportunity to fill it again.

15

Selma walked into the lobby of the Water Park Hotel. She rolled her eyes as she looked around. A hotel this nice nearby, and yet she’d chosen to spend every summer for the past thirty years at Lost Lake. The hotel was located next to the water park—an amusement park whose biggest attraction seemed to be waterslides and some great pool that made waves children could surf on. The park was for the children, but the hotel was for the adults. Smart move, she thought. Lazlo was not an idiot. At least there was that.

The chandeliers sprinkled multicolored lights onto the marble floors. The entire far wall was a water feature, a thin sheet of water flowing down two stories of rocks, looking as if you could walk right through it into another world. There were signs pointing to the spa, several gift shops, two restaurants—one family-friendly, one more elegant—and a bar.

This might not be so bad, Selma kept telling herself. She could probably get a new car and a condo out of this. Some jewelry she could pawn later. But this wasn’t how she’d planned to use her last charm. The last one was supposed to be used to finally get everything she wanted.

She walked up to the reception desk. The clerk was a young man, but his eyes did what all male eyes did when she wore this particular dress: They dropped to her outrageously exposed cleavage and lingered helplessly.

“Would you please ring Mr. Lazlo Patterson and tell him his four-o’clock appointment is here,” Selma said, giving him a slow smile.

“Certainly, ma’am,” the boy said, tearing his eyes away from her. She was old enough to be his grandmother. She wondered if he realized that. Probably not. No one sees your age if you’re bold enough. He murmured a few words into the phone, then paused and said to Selma, “Ma’am, he says he doesn’t have a four-o’clock appointment.”

“How silly of him to forget,” Selma said. “Tell him it’s Selma, from Lost Lake.”

The boy relayed her message, then hung up the phone. “He said he’ll be right down.”

Selma turned and walked across the lobby to the bar, giving the boy a show. She took a seat and ordered a Scotch, neat.

She sighed and shook her head in disbelief that she was actually doing this. She’d seduced a lot of men in her life, but never one that she actively disliked.

She reached into her small red purse. She found the charm inside by its warmth. Her fingers closed around it gently, and she felt it tremble like a caught butterfly. For a moment she felt sadness. She didn’t want to let it go. This was the last of who she was, of what she’d spent a lifetime being.

“You could have gotten me into a lot of trouble. I was with my wife,” Lazlo said, appearing by her side. He was as distasteful as she remembered—hair dyed that ridiculous black, a bad face-lift that raised his brows to an unnatural angle. His eyes went right to her cleavage. He didn’t even look away to order his drink “That was a nice touch, saying we have an appointment.”

“You sound surprised,” Selma said seductively. “I’m very good at what I do.”

“Of that I have no doubt. But we have to be discreet. My wife…”

Selma leaned in and whispered, “You don’t need her. You have me.”

She could see he was amused by that. He’d probably been faced with clingy women before. He wanted a good tickle, but then he would send her on her way. She had a sudden vision of her life if she’d never had her charms. How desperate and how sad it would have been, meeting men like this in bars for only a few hours of attention. A whole night, at best.

She’d gotten what she wanted out of life. And she didn’t regret it.

She didn’t regret a thing.

And with that, she opened her palm and watched her last charm disappear.

The next morning, at the lake, Selma was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Selma?” Bulahdeen asked when she walked into the main house for breakfast. She was glad they weren’t having cake again. Sugar was nice, but her childhood would always have her believing that protien was the best treat. “She wasn’t here for dinner last night on the lawn, and now she’s not here for breakfast. Her car is gone. Did she check out?” For a moment, Bulahdeen wondered if Selma had made good on her promise to leave her here.

“No,” Eby said, as Bulahdeen’s eyes followed the plate of bacon Eby set on the buffet table. There was a tension in the air that no one was acknowledging. Lazlo hadn’t shown up yesterday, like he was toying with them. Hateful man. “She’s still booked.”

“When was the last time anyone saw her?” Bulahdeen asked.

“I saw her yesterday,” Devin said. “She went back to her cabin and got really dressed up, then left.”

“Has anyone checked her cabin?” Everyone shook their heads. They didn’t seem terribly concerned. “Eby, could I take the spare key and check?”

Eby smiled and went to the front desk. She handed Bulahdeen the key and said, “It’s on your head if she finds out someone went into her cabin without her permission.”

Bulahdeen took the key and walked to Selma’s cabin. She’d been sharp with Selma yesterday on the dock, and she regretted it. She’d been mad at her for saying good-bye at the party. But being mad at someone for acting exactly the way you assume they’ll act is no one’s fault but your own.

When Bulahdeen entered, Selma’s perfume greeted her like a wet dog, getting all over her. That woman loved her perfume.

Bulahdeen stood in the middle of the cabin and looked around, frowning. Nothing looked out of place. Well, everything was out of place, but that was how Selma liked it. The couch was littered with reading materials carelessly scattered around. The bathroom was full of her pots and potions and scented lotions. She could see from here that the bed was covered in candy wrappers and hadn’t been slept in. Where did she go? Bulahdeen worried about Selma. She was always pushing people away. That’s why Bulahdeen always pushed back. For nearly thirty years, ever since meeting her here at the lake, she had called Selma on the first Thursday of every month, and if Selma didn’t feel like talking, well, then, Bulahdeen did all the talking, filling her in on everything going on in her life. The one month Bulahdeen forgot to call, when Charlie was first moved into the nursing home and Bulahdeen was tired and frazzled and spending all her time getting him settled, Selma showed up, having driven all night from Mississippi, because she couldn’t get in touch with Bulahdeen. She’d been mad that Bulahdeen wasn’t dead, for all the trouble she’d caused, and she’d refused to take Bulahdeen’s calls for months afterward. But she’d come around.

Bulahdeen’s eyes landed on the mantle, where Selma had placed the photos of her husbands. She displayed them in much the same way a hunter displays a moose head. She’d hunted them down. It had taken work. And she was proud of her trophies. Bulahdeen had always been fascinated by Selma’s power over men. She was utterly in control. Always. That seemed to defeat the point of being with a man, but to each his own. Selma too made her own endings.

That’s when it occurred to her.

Bulahdeen saw the box on the mantle and picked it up. She slowly lifted the lid.

When she looked inside, she thought, I’ll be damned.

Sometimes, the best endings are the ones that surprise you. Sometimes, the best are the ones that have everything happening exactly how you want it to happen. But the absolute perfect endings are when you get a little of both.

She put the box back, then she locked the door behind her and went back to the main house.

“Any clues?” Kate asked.

“One or two,” Bulahdeen said, handing the key back to Eby. “She’ll be back. She never goes anywhere without her husbands.”

The phone rang and Eby went to answer it.

Bulahdeen went to the buffet table to fill up her plate. Being nosy was hard work. She stopped when she saw a chair in the corner. “Isn’t that the chair Lisette always keeps in the kitchen?”

“Yes,” Jack said from his table by the door. He was supposed to have left yesterday. When Bulahdeen saw Lisette sneaking out of his cabin early this morning, she knew why he hadn’t.

“What’s it doing out here?”

“She doesn’t need it anymore.”

She turned to him curiously. “And how do you know that?”

Jack kept his eyes on his plate, but he began to blush. Bulahdeen laughed and turned back to the buffet. She paused when she saw the bowl of mixed fruit. For the first time ever, they were cut into all sorts of shapes. The pineapples were stars. The strawberries were mice faces. What the…? This was happy food. Lisette was making happy food.

Eby got off the phone. She walked to the archway leading to the dining room and said, “I don’t know what to think of this.” She put her long hands to her cheeks. Bulahdeen always thought Eby had beautiful hands. She was trembling.

“What’s wrong, Eby?” Kate asked.

“That was Lazlo Patterson.”

“Is he coming by?” Kate asked. “Do you have time to get your lawyer out here?”

“He’s not coming by. He said he’s having a family situation. He told his wife he was divorcing her this morning. Between that and Wes not selling his land…” She laughed. “He’s decided to drop the project.”

Everyone got to their feet and surged toward Eby in the foyer with a flurry of questions.

“What game is he playing now?” Kate asked.

“I don’t think he’s playing,” Eby said in amazement. “I told him to give it to me in writing, and he agreed. And he sent his lawyer home.”

“So you’re not selling Lost Lake?” Bulahdeen asked. “Hot diggity!”

“Apparently not. Not to Lazlo, anyway,” Eby said. “Kate, are you still looking for that investment?”

“I am,” she said, taking Eby’s hand. “I am so ready.”

“Yes,” Devin said as she ran to the window as if looking for something outside, some immediate reaction to what was happening. “Wes is getting out of his van,” she said. “And Selma is driving up, too.”

Kate went quickly to the door and opened it. “Hi, neighbor,” Kate said to Wes.

“Lazlo is letting Eby keep the property,” Wes told her, excitement all over his face. “I saw his lawyer in town, picking up coffee before he left to go back to Atlanta. I wanted to be the first to tell you.”

“We just heard,” Kate said, laughing. “What happened?”

Wes shrugged, smiling back at her. “I don’t know.”

Eby walked to the doorway, beside Kate. “Wes, have you had breakfast?”

“No.”

“Then come in. We’ve got some business to discuss. Kate is going to take over the place while I travel, and she’s going to need a good handyman.”

Kate nodded and extended her hand to Wes. He held her eyes as he approached her and took it.

And with that, Wes walked inside, and finally came home.

Bulahdeen pushed past where everyone was now talking excitedly in the doorway.

“There you are,” Bulahdeen called to Selma, who had just gotten out of her car. No one was welcoming her back, though if they knew what she’d done, they would have. “You’ve been gone a while.”

Selma was wearing a stunningly low-cut red dress, and her hair was disheveled. She put her hand on her neck, to hide the love bite there. “Have you seen the hotel by the water park?” she said to Bulahdeen from the driveway. “It’s divine. What are we all doing here?”

“What, indeed,” Bulahdeen said. “Come in for breakfast. We’ve just had some wonderful news.”

“I’ve already eaten,” Selma said, closing her car door and walking toward the cabins.

“Then come to my cabin later,” Bulahdeen said, walking out of the house and following her. “We’ll have tea and some nice pinwheel cookies.”

“Why?” Selma asked suspiciously.

“Because that’s what friends do.”

“You’re not my friend, Bulahdeen,” she said, hopping from foot to foot as she walked away, taking off her heels. “I don’t have friends.”

“You are my friend.” Bulahdeen huffed after her. “You’re my best friend. And you know it. Why else would you have used your last charm on a man you’re disgusted by, in order to save a place you don’t even like? You did it for me. You did it for all of us. You do great endings. I like your style.”

“You’re a crazy old woman,” Selma said as she reached her cabin and walked up the steps of her stoop. She took her key out of her purse, but then turned. “How did you know I’d used my last charm?”

Bulahdeen leaned against the railing of the steps, out of breath. “I looked.”

“You went into my cabin without my permission?” Selma asked, indignant.

“I thought you’d been kidnapped by Bigfoot.”

“I would have had a better time,” Selma murmured, turning back and slipping the key into the lock.

“If you put ice on that hickey, it’ll go away faster,” Bulahdeen said, climbing the steps and waiting for Selma to open the door.

Selma put her hand on her neck. “Ice on my neck? That’s freezing!”

“That’s why they call it ice.”

“Are you really coming in?” Selma asked.

“Of course.”

“I’m never getting rid of you, am I?”

“Nope.”

Selma walked in and held the door to her cabin open, shaking her head impatiently as Bulahdeen walked inside.

And just before Selma closed the door, she smiled.

From the lake, the alligator watched the house. He watched Wes arrive and walk inside with that girl he had always loved. He watched the beautiful woman walk away with the old woman, and they disappeared down the pathway toward the cabins. The little girl with the glasses was standing at the dining room window. She held her hand up, pressing it against the glass. She was smiling at him.

He floated there with ease, submerged except for his eyes. He was remembering something from long ago, a feeling he used to know, in his life before this. He used to know the name for it, that moment when you know everything is going to be okay. Now it was barely there, on the fringe of his primordial memory.

He wondered if it would ever go away entirely, this sense of two worlds. One day, as he floated here, would he see this place and these people and not recognize them anymore?

One day, maybe.

But not today.

He took one last look at the little girl, then he submerged himself fully into the water and swam away.