“That’s not an answer.”
“All right, how about this. Maybe I haven’t forgiven myself for Joey because some things…they aren’t forgivable. You just try to move on and live with it.”
And spend the rest of your life doing penance, she reflected. For some reason, she thought about Beauty and the Beast—the raging, violent French version, not the squeaky-clean Disney version. In the original, the beast’s fury was calmed by the unquestioning love of the heroine, yet the redemption came with so much pain and sacrifice from both of them that it made her wonder if it was worth the struggle.
She stayed silent during the rest of the drive. The south end of the lake was close to town, where cozy cottages, most of them closed for the winter, huddled shoulder to shoulder along the shore. The frozen docks, piled high with snow, projected out onto the field of white. They passed the Inn at Willow Lake, a 19th century mansion rumored to be haunted. When they were young, Jenny and Nina used to ride their bikes past the place, speculating about who might be haunting it. Nina always said she wanted to own the inn one day, but after she got pregnant with Sonnet, her life shot off in a different direction.
The lake wound through a deep valley that quickly turned to wilderness, and soon there was nothing to do but watch the winter woods slip by. The otherworldly perfection and quietness mesmerized her. The thin trees were inked upon a background of snow, which was marked by the crisscrossings of animal tracks. Chickadees and cardinals flitted in and out of the branches. The streambeds resembled small ice floes and glaciers. By the time they reached the grounds of Camp Kioga, she felt as though she were worlds away, rather than mere miles.
An historic seasonal resort, the camp reflected the style of the “great camps” of the Gilded Age. Marked by a rustic timber-and-wrought-iron archway, the entrance to the camp was a smooth drift of snow leading to the main pavilion. There were sports courts now buried in snow, equipment sheds, a boathouse situated out over the lake, which was now frozen into a vast, flat field of white.
Everything was in a slumberous state of hibernation. The timber bunkhouses and cottages had drifts of snow sloping up each stairway. In the lake stood an island with a gazebo hung with icicles. Jenny found herself caught by the impenetrable quiet and the spun-sugar scenery. She had never seen the remote camp in winter, and it looked magical to her.
Connor’s truck lumbered to a halt at a storage shed. Greg unlocked it, and within just a short time, they had everything stowed in the big wooden building.
“It’s beautiful here,” she said. “I’m glad you and Olivia have decided to reopen the place.”
“It’ll be open year-round one day,” Connor said.
She noticed that Rourke was standing apart, looking out across the lake, maybe lost in memories. He’d spent many a summer here, he and Joey. There, ankle deep in the frigid lake water, they had stood together skipping stones, keeping score of every skip. And there at the dock, they had started their swim races. There had been a rope swing suspended from a huge tree with its branches arching out over the lake, and they had challenged each other to swing higher or farther, to dive deeper. Everything had always been a contest with them.
She tried to remember the moment it had started, the rivalry that had torn an unspoken rift in their friendship. Was it the moment the three of them had met? Had it been invisible, like magma in an underground conduit, seeking a way to burst forth?
Greg stood back and regarded the stacked and labeled boxes. “All set.”
“Thanks again.” Jenny refused to think about the fact that everything she owned was in those boxes. That one day in the near future—perhaps at the spring thaw—she would have to go over every single item and decide its fate. Should she keep her grandmother’s bent eggbeater, her grandfather’s box of fishing tackle, a clay ashtray made by her mother in Campfire Girls?
It started snowing lightly, and Jenny lifted her face to the sky, feeling the flakes touch her forehead and cheeks. Everything was going to be all right, she told herself. The world was beautiful, and she had all kinds of options open to her.
“We’d better get back.” Connor headed for his truck.
“Meet me at the bakery,” Jenny suggested. “I need to get some work done in the office. I’ll give you a cup of coffee and any pastry you want.”
“I’ll take a rain check,” Connor said. “I need to get back to work.”
“Same here,” said Greg. “But I’ll see you Saturday, right? For dinner?”
“Of course.” Her father, Philip, was coming up from the city to see her. She’d told him she didn’t need anything, that she would be okay, but he’d been insistent.
After Connor and Greg left, Jenny and Rourke followed more slowly, lingering for one last look at the lake. “It’s beautiful here,” she said. “I feel…nostalgic. Don’t you?”
“Maybe,” he said. “A little.” He quickened his pace, and she felt him shutting down. It was probably just as well, she decided. They had never been good at talking about the things that really mattered.
CHAPTER NINE
Jenny was finishing up at town hall after spending a seemingly interminable afternoon filling out forms to replace lost records. The process was less tedious because Nina Romano took time out to visit with her. “So be honest,” Jenny said. “How many tongues are wagging because I’ve been staying at Rourke’s?”
“Would you believe none at all?”
“In this town? Hardly.” Jenny signed her name to the tenth page of a title-to-deed request.
“Trust me, people have bigger worries than that.” Nina held out her hand for the forms. “I’ll file these with the city clerk for you.” They walked together through a hallway lined with municipal offices.
“What
