11

After consuming a piece of Peter’s homemade tiramisu, Jake wandered out onto the deck, spread out his arms, and set his palms on the dark-stained railing. A camp robber launched itself off a tree to his left and landed on the railing on the far side of the deck. It stared at Jake as if wanting to give him a message. Eventually it flew off, leaving Jake in peace to watch dusk steal over the lake. The sun still hung high enough over the mountains to the west to light up the lake with the richest colors of the day. Photographer’s dream.

Leonard was right. A gorgeous spot to retreat. Relax. Find restoration. Unless of course you were stuck for more than a week with a woman like Camille and another woman like Ari who would prevent any of the three Rs from happening.

As if on cue, a bald eagle swooped by him not more than fifty feet from the deck. He watched the great bird till it soared out of sight. Symbol of freedom. A reminder that he’d never be free to soar again till this life ended. Was he bitter toward God? Yeah. Should he be? Probably not. God wasn’t the one who made him pull off the freeway on that cold October night a year and a half ago. Still, why did he allow the incident to happen? Nothing good had come of it. No justice. No lesson. No hope for the future ever getting better than it was right now. Only loss. Trust God? Not easy these days.

“Hey.”

Jake spun. Susie. She danced toward him doing her disco moves, which always made him smile. “You okay?” Susie peered at him with that look that forbade him to tweak the truth. But sarcasm? That was never off-limits.

“Yeah, fantastic. Wow, it’s like I’m a kid at Disneyland. So glad I let Peter talk me into coming this week.”

“Me too. I’m getting tired of checking my mailbox for the wedding invitation.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry, Jake. I just want you to be happy. And you have to admit, there are two types of guys. The ones who need to be married. And the type that really need to be married.” She drummed her fingers on the railing. “Which camp do you think you fall into?”

“Did you know he was inviting Ari?” Jake leaned on the railing with his elbow and stared at Susie. She shifted her gaze to the lake and Jake had his answer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He made Andrew and me promise not to.”

“Do you realize this is the only time I ever get to truly be myself? Where I can swim without wondering if people are gawking at me? Where I can talk about the incident without people getting a sudden fascination with the coffee swirling around their cup?”

“I know. That’s what I told him, but he has this matchmaker complex when it comes to you.”

“How can one man be so lucky?” Jake pushed himself up from the railing. “Have you seen him?”

“Peter?”

“Yeah.”

“Camille said he was going down to the water before cards.”

“I looked. There’s no one on the dock.”

“Haven’t you been down there yet? There’s a little path off to the right that takes you to a small clearing in the trees. You can’t see it from up here.”

“Thanks, Sooz.”

“It’s still going to be a good week. I feel it.”

“Hmm.”

Jake eased down the forty steps toward the dock, resting every now and then, and finally stepped onto the path Susie had mentioned. Poplar trees on either side formed a kind of tunnel that ran along the edge of the lake. Jake wound down the path and after twenty-five yards saw an opening in the trees. It led to four chairs made out of thick wood stained to a dark brown, arranged around a cold fire pit. A grove of birch trees surrounded the chairs in a half circle overlooking the water.

Peter sat in the chair on the far side like a stone, his hands wrapped around his camera, the only movement his forefinger as he snapped pictures of a burnished sun balancing on the horizon. A breeze ambled in from the left, just enough to ruffle the trees outlined against the darkening sky. The noise of laughter floated down from the cabin. The lake was glass.

Jake slid into the chair next to Peter and joined his friend in watching the trees at the far end of the lake poke their tops into the bottom of the sun. Without speaking and without looking his direction, Peter set his camera on the armrest of his chair and picked up two glasses. He handed one to Jake, then settled back in his chair and took a drink. They sat in silence for another few moments before Jake broke it.

“Do you prefer to die by the sword, or shall I poison your coffee at some point during the week?”

“Do you like her?” A slight smile crept onto Peter’s face, his gaze still straight ahead. “I think you do.”

“Definitely poison. It will be slower and more painful.”

Another smile from Peter. This time his teeth showed.

Jake shook his head. “Leftovers, huh?”

“You’d never have let me invite her if I’d told you about it ahead of time.” Peter shifted in his chair and turned to Jake. Jake stared straight ahead.

“You think?”

“So you admit it. I was right.”

“Right about what?”

“Finding someone you’d be interested in.”

Jake’s gaze shifted to the dead black coals inside the circle of rocks that formed the small fire pit. Once upon a time, the remnants of those branches and logs had been green and growing.

“This was supposed to be a time for the five of us to be together. Where I could be myself. Where I don’t have to hide.”

“You know, you could always step out of the shadows and stop hiding from everyone that you don’t already know.” Peter shifted in his chair and rapped the wood of his armrest.

“Yeah, and I could go sled across the North Pole in a bathing suit.”

“My idea would be a lot more freeing. And a lot warmer.”

“Freeing?” Jake smacked his stomach with both hands. “Try living in this body for a day, then talk to me about how showing it to a complete stranger will set me free. It’s going to be a fun ten days.”

“Didn’t you hear me when I introduced her to everyone? She’s not staying the whole time.”

“Really.”

“Probably not. I could only get her to commit to three days.”

“I wish she’d taken the three-minute option.”

“That wasn’t on the menu.”

“You swore you were never going to do this to me again.”

“I did?” Peter pretended to recoil from the look on Jake’s face. “Oh, that’s right. I guess I did.”

“Again, why’d you do it?”

“God told me to.”

Peter kept a straight face but Jake didn’t believe it for a second. “Yeah, right.”

“Maybe he didn’t, but I know he would have if I’d asked.”

“Why, Peter?”

“Do I really need to tell you?”

“Uh, yeah, I think you do.”

Peter cocked his head and rubbed his chin as if needing to contemplate his answer. “It’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourself. The fruit is ripe. The water has come to a boil. The wine has aged long enough and must now be sampled.”

“Is it possible for you to come up with an analogy that doesn’t involve food?”

“No.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I hope you and Ari and everyone else have a great time.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

Jake rose, smiled, and tossed a stick into the water. “Take lots of pictures for me.”