Ben found Moriah walking back and forth on the beach in front of the lighthouse.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
“Not really,” Moriah said. “I’m just trying to gear myself up to tackle a carpentry job I don’t want to do.”
“What carpentry job?”
“Removing that built-in desk that’s in the lighthouse keeper’s office.”
“The one you kept your sleeping bag and matches in?”
“That’s the one.”
“Why do you have to take it out?”
“The wall behind it is damaged. There’s been a slow leak for years. I can’t just patch around it. The desk will have to be removed and the wall repaired and painted. If I can keep from destroying it in the process I’ll take the desk to a guy I know in Kagawong who will strip and refinish it. After that, I hope to re-install it.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” Ben skipped a rock across the water’s surface. The lake had chosen to be as smooth as silk today. “So, what’s the problem?”
“That wood is more than one hundred fifty years old. To take it out might damage it.”
“Can you just crawl in and unscrew whatever is holding it to the wall?”
“Afraid not.” She kicked a pebble into the water. “Screws were invented back then, but they weren’t readily available. This desk is anchored with large, hand-wrought nails.”
“You’re saying you’ll have to use a crowbar.”
“I’ll have to use a crowbar,” Moriah said, “which could possibly split the wood and ruin the desk my great-great-grandfather made. I love that desk. If I destroy it, I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
Ben took her by the shoulders and gently turned her around to face him. “I know it has a lot of sentimental value to you, but it’s just a desk. It doesn’t feel anything. It’s not alive. It doesn’t have a soul. Liam Robertson made a nice desk. It was useful. People enjoyed it for decades. People will probably use it for decades more, but if you accidentally turn it into firewood, in the larger scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter. Life gets so much simpler when you don’t love things that can’t love you back, lass.”
“You’re right.” Moriah took a deep breath, let it out, and made herself relax. She stood looking at the lake for a moment longer and then smiled.
“Time to go get a crowbar. We’ll see how this turns out.”
An hour later, Ben was high up on some scaffolding. He glanced down and saw Moriah, Jack, and one of the other workers wrestling the oddly-shaped desk into her pickup. It appeared that it was still intact. Then Moriah and Jack climbed into the truck and sped off, presumably to take the desk to the refinisher. For Moriah’s sake, he hoped it turned out well.