She was getting better. Lace and Dave both liked this story. Leo had liked it so much he’d tried to convince her to cut back her hours at the office so she could finish it.
She wanted to finish the novel and write a dedication page to Leo. She thought it might be a way to help her say goodbye.
She smiled. She wouldn’t mind seeing her name on the spine of a published book, either. For all this effort, there should be some payback.
She felt lighter in spirit than she had in the last year. They were right. The vacation was going to do her some good. She was looking forward to days not driven by the markets, a chance to read for pleasure, the freedom to sleep in, the right to be lazy.
The edge to the grief was beginning to temper. The sadness was still there, heavy, and so large it threatened to swamp her, but the pain was less. She had prepared for the vacation. She knew it was going to be hard, not having Leo with them, not having him there for the game, or messing up the kitchen with his creations, or dragging her hiking.
It was going to be okay.
She should have picked up working on the book months ago. It was good, and when she worked on it, she felt better than she had in a long time.
She was determined to smile, laugh, and do her best to have a good time.
“Emily is asleep.”
James glanced in the rearview mirror to see his niece collapsed against the bright yellow Big Bird pillow she had brought with her. He smiled at his nephew Tom, sitting in the front passenger seat. “It was only a matter of time. Your mom was asleep hours ago.”
“She was up late with Dad,” Tom replied. “They’ve been talking about having another baby.”
James choked. “Do you want a brother or sister?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Sister. That way Emily will stay out of my stuff and have another girl to play with.”
It was a big deal when you were nine.
“I hear your dad has been coaching you for the football team.”
“He’s trying. I still can’t throw a spiral. Jason can, and he makes a big deal out of it.”
“You’ll get it with more practice.”
“Want to play catch with me?”
James flexed his aching ankle and was grateful the van had cruise control. “I’d be glad to, Tom.”
“Thanks. Mom doesn’t catch very well.”
James grinned. “She never could. I spent years trying to teach her how to catch a baseball.”
“She says she was pretty good.”
“It’s relative, Tom. She was pretty good for a girl who shut her eyes when the ball got close.”
Tom grinned. “She does that with a football, too.” He grimaced. “I hit her in the face one time by accident. She wasn’t very happy.”
James glanced back at Patricia, curled up awkwardly in the back seat with her head tucked against her jacket and a pillow. “She’s your mom. I bet she’s forgotten all about it.”
“I hope so. My birthday is next month.”
James laughed.
“Check your mom’s directions again, Tom. I see exit fifty-eight coming up.”
Papers rustled as Tom found the map and the handwritten directions. “That’s the one. Then take Bluff Road north for five miles. She’ll have to direct from there. I know it’s lots of trees and water.”
“Got it.”
Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled up in front of the vacation getaway.
It was a beautiful cabin, built at the top of a hill looking out over a calm lake that the map showed went for miles. They were half a mile from the nearest neighbor, and ten miles from town.
James stepped out of the van and stretched, fighting the pain in his spine that came from sitting too long, the muscles in his ribs aching with every breath he took. He smiled at the sound of birds. “Who did you say owned this place?” he asked Patricia.
“A friend of Dave’s. There are a couple canoes and a fishing boat in the boathouse and a neighbor has horses he lets us ride.”
Patricia pointed to the shoreline to the north. “Just around that bend is a large meadow and what is practically a sandy beach. It makes a great place to picnic. The fishing is good everywhere along this inlet. The kids were catching crappies off the end of the pier last year.”
“It looks like we’re the first to arrive. Do you have a key?”
“It’s off the silver star on my key ring.”
The porch was solid oak and extended around the cabin, the front door snug and smooth to open. James stepped inside and paused to enjoy the sight. The place had obviously been designed by an architect who knew his stuff. A large fireplace with open seating around it, a spacious kitchen, a large dining room, an encompassing view of the lake. The deck on the back of the house led down to a pavilion built beside the water.
He turned as Patricia came in with a bag of groceries. “This is going to be a good place to relax.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you came.”
She turned at the sound of another car. “That must be Dave and the others now.”
“Lace, do you want the Wedding Ring quilt or the David’s Star quilt?”
“The blue one,” Lace replied from somewhere inside the massive walk-in closet.
Rae laughed. “They are both blue.”
“Then you choose.” Lace stepped back into the room, having hung up her clothes. “I do love the smell of cedar in a closet. You want me to unpack your suitcase?”
“Sure, though I doubt the jeans and T-shirts will care much where they are tossed.”
“Didn’t you bring anything nice?”
Rae grinned. “Why should I? I can borrow from you.”
Lace groaned as she saw the contents of Rae’s suitcase. “I’m going to get you fashion conscious if it takes my entire life to do it.”
“Lace, face it. I’ve got a very limited sense of aesthetics. If it’s comfortable, I wear it.” Rae pulled out the small bear Leo had given her and tossed it on her bed near her pillow. “You ready to eat? The guys are probably raiding the food even as we speak.”
“Sure. We can walk it off tomorrow. Dave wants to try that trail that wanders up to the eagle viewing platform.”
“A five-mile hike, mostly uphill, is not my idea of a good time,” Rae replied.
She
