Susan Wiggs - Summer at Willow Lake

“There, in the middle,” she said, pointing. “It’s called Spruce Island.” It was large enough to house a gazebo, a dock and picnic area yet small enough to still seem like something conjured, a gleaming emerald in the middle of a sea of gold. “My grandparents were married there, fifty years ago. That’s where they’re going to renew their vows in August, provided we get things whipped into shape.”

“What, there’s a question in your mind?”

“Hey, I like your attitude, but we need to face facts. This is not a two-thousand-square-foot prewar needing some paint and ambient lighting. It’s a hundred acres of wilderness with a bunch of old structures, some of them dating back to the 1930s.”

“I don’t care. We can do this. We have to.”

She gave him a hug. “And here I thought I’d have to twist your arm.”

He held her just a bit longer and a little tighter than necessary. She was the first to pull back, and she smiled up at him, pretending to see only friendship in his eyes. For the first time, she started to understand what it felt like to be Rand Whitney, looking into her worshipful eyes and unable to return the feeling.

“Thanks for coming, partner,” she said, walking to the deck rail and feeling the cool ripple of a breeze off the water. The blue-green scent of the lake and the woods brought back a swell of memories, and surprisingly, not all of them were bad.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been to such an isolated spot,” Freddy said. “It’s like we’re the only people on earth. The first man and first woman, Adam and Eve.”

“Just so you don’t turn weird on me,” she said.

“What, no ‘Here’s Johnny’ routine with the ax?” He gave her a wild-eyed look.

“I think I can do without that, thanks.”

“Fine. But if I had a book in me, this would be the perfect place to write it.”

She headed back inside. “Let’s go figure out where we’re going to sleep tonight.” Olivia and Freddy ended up sharing a cabin that first night. Neither of them relished the idea of lying in a cavernous bunkhouse, alone in the wilderness, wondering about every secret rustle and snuffle they heard from the impenetrable darkness that closed over the place after twilight. When the others arrived, they’d move to the private cottages, but for the time being, neither wanted to be alone.

The bunkhouses were all named for historic forts and battle sites—Ticonderoga, Saratoga, Stanwix, Niagara—and Olivia picked Ticonderoga for its proximity to the dining hall and to the big, communal bathroom.

After unloading their supplies and luggage, and fixing a meal of canned soup and crackers in the cobwebby but still functional kitchen, they used an air compressor from the utility shed to fill their mattresses. The camp had switched to flocked air mattresses years ago to avoid the problem of being chewed by mice. Then Olivia and Freddy made up their bunks at opposite ends of Ticonderoga cabin and embarked on a thorough decobwebbing and general cleaning.

Evening crept over the forest slowly, the sky turning from iridescent sunset pink to layers of deepest violets and then finally, a darkness so complete that it was like being in a cave. Once night fell, Barkis was completely intimidated. He feinted from every mysterious rustle of leaves or lonely birdcall.

After a harrowing battle with two spiders in the large, institutional bathroom located outside the bunkhouse, Olivia got ready for bed, returning to the cabin in lilac pajama crop pants and a matching tank top. The night breeze through the window swept over her.

Freddy stared at her boobs. “I do love Mother Nature,” he said.

She dived for a sweater and wrapped it around her.

“Okay, now I’m bored,” he complained. “This is usually my night to watch Dog the Bounty Hunter.”

“I told you there was no TV. No phone, no Internet, no cell phone signal.”

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