One time, when she twisted her ankle on a hike, it was David who carried her home on his back, refusing to put her down evenwhen his legs buckled from the strain. That was the David she knew and loved—the boy who fancied himself a budding biologist. Julia often accompanied him on his shoreline patrols, using nets to capture freshwater minnows, tadpoles, and other critters they could study in water-filled glass jars. Erika occasionally joined in, but she preferred watercolors and her drawing pad to those fishing expeditions.
One thing they all agreed on was their love of the raft moored out on the lake. They would swim to it while their parents paid only partial attention. They had a favorite game—King of the Raft—that involved tossing their opponents into the water until two players decided they’d had enough, and a winner was declared. The trio were all strong swimmers, but it was David who usually won the title of King. Still, he would sacrifice victories here and there to keep the game interesting.
Of course, with the good times came the bad. David’s father died in his forties after a fall off a ladder while replacing shingles on his lake house roof. David was just fifteen, and he was the one who found his father unconscious on the ground, a fast-moving brain hemorrhage draining his life away. The loss was devastating for David, and heartbreaking for all. David’s mother succumbed so deeply to grief that it was as if she’d abandoned him. Thankfully, Cormac had stepped in and became a father figure to him, and in turn, David became the son he never had.
Thinking back, maybe that was a turning point, when David started looking for something to shield him from the pain of his loss and trauma. He spun a self-protective chrysalis, cocooning himself within. It wasn’t a coincidence that he never let Julia or Erika win King of the Raft after the funeral. Anger cloaked some of his natural sweetness. Bravado became a substitute for humility. Distance and self-absorption put space between him and the potential for another loss.
But there were always flashes of the old David to keep Julia from pulling away. Like that time two years after college, when she broke down somewhere off I-87 near Albany, returning from afamily reunion in Poughkeepsie, of all places. It was David, her only contact in New York, who drove two hours north to get her and brought her back to Manhattan to stay with him. They spent the weekend exploring Greenwich Village, indulging in Indian food and too much alcohol, and when the car repairs were done, he drove her north again, insisting she not take the bus. It was the old David, her surrogate brother, carrying her on his back once more.
As adults, Julia, Erika, and David always made it a point to coordinate their schedules so they could meet at the lake and enjoy their vacation together. These reunions reinforced a bond that began almost from the time of their births—one she believed was unbreakable. Until today.
How could this be? They shared birthdays, graduations, new jobs, new lovers, ex-lovers, marriages, deaths, kids, and a divorce (David’s from Debbie). While his marriage didn’t last, David did get Brody and Becca out of the deal—twins who were now four, or maybe five? The years were a blur, but the Lake Gang remained a constant in her life.
Julia and Christian.
Erika and Rick.
And David and his lady of the moment.
In true David fashion, he didn’t mourn his marriage for long, probably in part because he didn’t have much of a history with his ex. He and Debbie had tied the knot within six months of meeting, and the twins were born a year later. Divorce papers were served by the time the kids took their first steps. He had joint custody, which came with the usual headaches, but he always had the funds for a part-time nanny.
Julia and Erika both agreed they didn’t miss Debbie. She was nice enough, but in a distant andappropriateway. She said all the right things, but lacked the warmth to make it feel genuine. She was pretentious, coming from money and carrying herself with a superior air Julia found off-putting. David insisted he married for love, not money, and he signed an ironclad prenup as proof, which left him with no claim to Debbie’s family wealth.
Rich as she was, Debbie loved David’s family cottage, with all its quaint charm. No doubt she would have been appalled to see what he had done with the place. She’d likely shake her head and say something along the lines of, “This house belongs in the Hamptons.”
Too bad Debbie wasn’t still in the picture—she could have paid to move it there.
Taylor appeared while Julia glumly stared out her bay window into David’s kitchen.
“Is the house still there?”
Taylor’s quip coaxed a slight smile out of Julia.
“Unreal, isn’t it?” she lamented.
“Yeah, it is, but Dad’s right. It’s built. What can you do?”
“I dunno. Erika is the attorney. I’ll ask her.”
“Speaking of, are she and Rick here yet?” Taylor wanted to know.
“No, not yet.”
“And you’re sure Lucas isn’t with them, right?” There was a nervous twinge to Taylor’s voice that caught Julia off guard.
Lucas was Erika’s eighteen-year-old son and, like Taylor, was beginning his senior year in the fall. Julia had high hopes the next generation would carry on the vacation-together tradition, but that was now in question.
“Erika told me that he’s got some gigs booked with his band, so I don’t expect him to be here. What’s up with you two, anyway? You always got along so well.”
Her daughter ignored the question. It wasn’t long ago that Taylor went away for a weekend with Erika and Lucas to tour a couple of colleges that both kids were interested in. At first everything seemed fine, but now she was acting like she didn’t want him around.
While this new friction was cause for concern, getting her tight-lipped daughter to open up might take a miracle. Chances were, only her journal knew the truth.
Julia thought Taylor’s poetry hobby was a healthy outlet for expressing her inner world, and Taylor was actually quite a goodwriter, but she couldn’t make a living at it. Julia attempted to sway her in the direction of business or finance instead. Life had enough pitfalls without digging your own trench.
Enough is enough,Julia decided. She would put her parental struggles, David’s house, and her financial worries on the shelf to soak up these two weeks of doing nothing. She was going to vacationhard.
There was so much to do and so little time to fit it all in. Boating, swimming, hiking… she wanted to savor the rose-colored sunrises and orange-dappled sunsets, to spend her evenings lounging in the hammock, with the fire roaring and her favorite chardonnay within easy reach.
