Krista showed Jo her new sleek, small and efficient computer and told her she’d been writing, journaling, trying to put all the pieces together. “I want to know what became of us all,” she admitted.
“Well, when you do, be sure to let me know, will you?” Jo said with a laugh.
Of course Krista didn’t do any writing while her mother was visiting, but there was a moment that stuck with her, that she planned to look at more closely later, when her mind was clear. It was bedtime. Krista had a double bed in her room and Charley was in the master bedroom Jo and Lou had shared for so many years while the kids were little. Charley said Krista and Jo should take it—share that big king-size bed. It was completely refurnished, of course; the mattress was new. But Jo said, “No. I think I’ll just take the couch.”
“Oh, Ma, it brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Krista said.
“It’s okay,” Jo said, not exactly answering. “You take your bed as usual. I’m used to sleeping alone.”
“I know,” Krista said. “The boathouse! Charley had it cleaned, prettied up and furnished with two double beds. We can hear the water lapping underneath.”
Jo shuddered slightly; it was unmistakable. But she smiled and said, “Oh, sweetheart, I’d just pee all night. I have an idea! Let’s bundle up our pillows and blankets and sleep on the porch!”
Krista hesitated, wondering what had just happened. Then she said, “Sure. I have to get up really early.”
“That’s perfect,” Jo said. “I’ve got the early bus home and I’m going straight to work. But I hope to be back next week!”
She put the incident from her mind because she couldn’t help grieving the fact that it would be at least a week until she saw her mother again. For the first time since she started working at the lodge, she had a hard time getting excited about going to work. She tried to slap on that happy smile for the carefree summer people but it was harder than usual. Just the idea that her mother wouldn’t be at the cabin when she got home put her in a quiet mood. She thought maybe if she wrote about it in the afternoon it might put things into perspective. She didn’t want to waste the happiness of that time they had together by dreading their parting. She began to concentrate on remembering all the details.
She was on her way around the lake when she saw Jake walking toward her, three ducks following him. The sight made her laugh.
“There’s that smile,” he said. He pulled a couple of pellets out of his pocket and tossed them to the ducks. “Was it my imagination or were you a little down in the dumps today?”
She bristled slightly, though she wasn’t sure why she should. It had been obvious, after all. “Keeping a close eye on me in case I snap, turn dangerous or something?”
“I keep a close eye on everyone, Krista,” he said. He handed her a fistful of pellets for the ducks. “I have an employee whose husband is disabled and he’s been known to have some hard nights. I have a man who got hurt on the job a few weeks ago and I think he’s back at work a little too soon. He might’ve been worried that taking time off made him look lazy. And I have a valet who actually is lazy—but he’s young and it’s time he learned you have to work for a living. One of the women who works here has not one but two special-needs kids at home. I can tell a lot about how they’re doing from her moods.”
“Well, don’t I feel stupid,” she said.
He laughed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid—I meant to make you feel less suspicious.”
“My mother visited for a day and a night. She had to leave this morning—she has a full-time job back in Saint Paul. I haven’t seen very much of my mother over the years. I was a little bummed. I hated to say goodbye again.”
“I can imagine. Will you have another visit soon?”
“In a week,” she said with a shrug. “It’s not so long, I guess. It just feels... It’s been so many years of not being near the people who are important to me.”
“I can imagine. You’re doing a very good job for us, Krista. If you find you need a day or two extra to visit family, I’m sure it can be arranged. Don’t suffer in silence.”
Suspicion reared its ugly head again. “Are you this accommodating with everyone?”
“No,” he laughed. “Some I’m very tough on, some I grow impatient with, some would get on the nerves of a saint and some I don’t trust very much. But when I have a hard worker who seems sincere and has earned a break I can make an extra effort. I don’t know the gory details but I’m sure what you’ve been through was no picnic.”
“Huh,” she said. “I’ll tell you what you want to know...”
“I didn’t ask,” he said. He handed her some more duck pellets. She accepted them, tossed them to the ducks. “You’re entitled to some privacy, for God’s sake.”
“I just meant it’s all public record, if your curiosity gets the best of you. By the way, I am grateful you haven’t shared that with anyone...that I know of.”
“I haven’t.”
“If you know so much about everyone, what’s up with Elizabeth?” When he didn’t reply right away, she said, “That was unfair. You won’t talk about another employee...”
“That one I would,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out what to say. Someday I’ll figure her out. She’s smart and very efficient. Why isn’t she nice to people? Who’s she mad at?” He shook his head.
“Assuming you’ve talked to her, she needs counseling,” Krista said.
“Of course I’ve talked to her, but I can’t mandate counseling. Let me walk you a little way. Here,” he said, handing her some more duck pellets. She laughed and tossed them behind her. Three ducks waddled toward them. “Chaperones,” he said.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Just taking a break. I get a little sluggish about this time of day, especially after lunch. You walk to work every day?”
“I do. It’s great. My cousin would be happy to drive me but I’d rather walk. I’m staying with two cousins at the old family lake house we stayed at as kids. They’re sisters. One of them is sick. She’s been fighting cancer. She just came through a powerful round of chemo and no one knows what’s next—recovery or...you know...the end. Even she doesn’t know. It’s been a rough battle and she says she’s done with treatment, no matter what. She’s the one who insisted we open up the house and spend the summer here. That’s the main reason I’m here. To spend time with her. We were always close.”
“Jesus, Krista!” he said sympathetically. “You come off a tour like you had only to face a possible loss like that?”
“It would be okay not to mention that, too,” she said. “I just told you because you gave me duck pellets.”
“Of course not,” he said. “I hope you get lucky on this one, Krista. I hope your cousin stays well.”
“Thanks—me, too. She’s pretty amazing. Her attitude. I think she’s made peace with the thing, you know?”
“I saw that in my father. Same disease, same fight, same attitude, eventually. When he came to the end of his patience, he let us know he’d had enough and that was that.”
“And your father...?”
“Unfortunately, he passed,” Jake said. “But he seemed serene. He enjoyed his last months and we were all with him.”
“Are there a lot of you?” she asked.
“A sister and a brother. I’m the youngest.” He laughed then. “How many are there in your family?”
She gave him a brief rundown of the sisters and cousins. “And obviously I’ve been out of touch. Not everyone will be overjoyed to see me if they come this way.”
“They haven’t been in contact?”
“A couple have,” she said. “The two cousins I’m staying with now and my mother, of course. But really, some are pretty embarrassed...”
“Don’t we all have those dark shadows in our past?”
“I don’t know too many people who have shadows like mine,” she said. “But tell me more about you. It’s probably so much nicer.”
He told her about being a farm kid, filling her with envy. He talked about hayrides, harvest parties when they buried corn and potatoes in hot coals for a cookout, regularly rescuing stranded motorists in winter by taking the tractor to the road to pull them out of the snow. To him it was austere and rugged—a tough way to grow up. To her it sounded like freedom. They walked and talked for about fifteen minutes and then he said it was time he got back. And she told him she was almost home.
* * *
Over the years Krista had nurtured many a fantasy, but living at the lake house of her childhood had never been one of them. Perhaps because she could not even have imagined a life of such lovely tranquility. Of course, this lake house, renovated by Charley, was ten times the place of her childhood. On the days Krista worked, she was back home by two thirty. Quite often Jake would accompany her about halfway.
“Aren’t you afraid people will talk about you always walking with one of the waitresses?” she asked him.
“Nope,” he said. “Not worried at all. If you’d rather be alone...”
“It’s okay,” she said. Truthfully, she looked forward to it every day, so grateful he didn’t ask her personal questions.
After work Krista could stretch out on a lounge on the porch with Charley and Meg, or fish off the dock, float on a raft or nap in the hammock. She was frequently admonished by Charley for walking around outside in her beloved Jockey underwear. On days she didn’t have to work, she took the bus to Oakdale and treated her mother to a long lunch. Then she’d slip her mother a twenty-dollar bill. Sometimes she wondered if she had died and gone to heaven.