The Lake

Probably half an hour late already, and no sign of him in the distance.

Does he have a watch? Leigh had never seen him with one.

I should have brought a book.

She was sitting cross-legged. The ground felt very hard. After a while, her rump and legs began to go numb and tingly. She leaned back, bracing herself on her elbows and stretching out her legs. She kept her head up to watch the lake. That felt a lot better, at first. But soon the strain of her already stiff neck and shoulder muscles became painful. She wanted to lie down.

If you do that, you’ll fall asleep.

She had napped for a couple of hours after lunch, but that hadn’t been enough to make up for last night.

If she fell asleep now, she might miss Charlie. He could show up, not see her or the canoe, and figure she had either stayed away or given up on waiting.

Moaning with aches and weariness, Leigh got to her feet. She climbed onto the tree, walked along its wide trunk past the place where the canoe was tied, and sat down. The water felt smooth and cool around her feet.

The skier was gone. One of the boats was moving slowly near an island, its motor a faint humm. She spotted a rowboat!

Her heart quickened.

It’s about time, she thought.

She gazed at the rowboat. It drew slowly closer, then turned as if heading for one of the piers. A cloud moved briefly out of the sun’s way. The rowboat caught sunlight and glinted.

It was aluminum.

Charlie’s boat was wood, painted green.

It’s not him.

Leigh’s disappointment came out in a long sigh.

“Where the hell is he?” she muttered.

He’ll be here, she told herself.

Maybe he chickened out.

Or he had to change plans. Maybe his mother wanted him to postpone today’s trip for some reason.

Am I in the right place? How do I know for sure this is Goon Lake? Maybe this is Circle, where Charlie went yesterday, and he’s waiting for me at the channel into Goon and wondering where I am.

Mike told me yesterday where to find the channel to Goon.

Maybe Mike was wrong.

Something went wrong, that’s for sure.

Trickles slid down her cheeks. She felt like crying, but these weren’t tears. She rubbed her face with the backs of her hands. The backs of her hands were wet, too, and only smeared the sweat on her face.

Couldn’t there at least be a breeze?

Where is Charlie?

I’m not giving up. I’ll wait here till Hell freezes over.

Fat chance of anything freezing over.

A tickling drop of sweat slid down her neck and between her breasts. She wiped it away.

And remembered her sea-thing necklace.

She didn’t have it on.

Maybe that’s the problem, she thought. Should’ve worn my good-luck charm.

I didn’t wear it last night, though, and had plenty of luck without it.

The necklace has nothing to do with luck.

Still, she wished she were wearing it.

Even if you’re not superstitious, always a good idea to keep the bases covered.

From now on, I’ll wear it.

She kicked her feet, making the cool water splash her legs.

The hell with the necklace, I should’ve worn my bikini.

She’d thought she wouldn’t need it. She’d planned on skinny-dipping at Charlie’s secret place, expecting it to be an inlet similar to the one last night, or maybe a stream or pond.

Here, nobody was nearby. But there was no real privacy. She couldn’t go in naked.

With a shrug, she pushed herself off the trunk. She dropped into the waist-deep water with barely a splash, took a few steps along the slippery rock bottom until she was clear of the trees, then left her feet. The cool engulfed her. It felt wonderful. She glided beneath the surface until she needed air, then came up. She rolled onto her back. Floating, she closed her blouse over her breasts. Then she shut her eyes.

Buoyed up, it felt like she was lying spread-eagled on a cool, liquid mattress. She had to hold her back arched to keep from sinking, but otherwise no effort was needed. The water turned her slowly, toyed with her limp arms and legs.

I should’ve done this a long time ago, she thought.

She felt fine and relaxed and drowsy.

Like this, I could wait all afternoon for Charlie.

He’ll be along…

…pretty soon.

A nose full of water startled Leigh awake. Spluttering, she slapped the surface and kicked. A few quick strokes took her close enough to shore so she could stand. She coughed and blew her nose. Then she was all right except for a burning sensation behind her eyes.

Wonderful, she thought. Drown, why don’t you.

Wiping her eyes, she turned around and scanned the lake.

No Charlie.

It must be four o’clock by now.

He’s not coming.

Goddamn it.

She waded ashore and flopped facedown on her towel.

Come on, Charlie.

Where are you, Charlie?

Goddamn it to hell anyway.

Shit!

Leigh began to sob.

SEVENTEEN

Leigh rolled over, sat up, and knuckled the tears from her eyes. Like a kid at school. Despite her frustration at Charlie’s absence, the idea struck her as a little amusing. Tears welled up again, but she thought better of it. Wouldn’t do for Charlie to catch her like this, eyes all red and puffy from crying.

If Charlie deigned to put in an appearance this side of tomorrow.

Fine. Put it down to experience, Leigh. World’s full of gals who’ve been let down— are being let down at this very moment, she told herself. But she could swear Charlie had been serious last night. Serious enough to come out to look for her, anyhow.

Not today, though.

Must have had second thoughts.

Maybe his mom beat him when she saw his wet pants and he’s stayed home.

Who gives a shit, anyway…

She wasn’t a gal to hang around after some guy who couldn’t stand up to his own mother.

She must be a tough old bitch.