Chapter 10 - THE QUIET LAKE HOUSE
A month after the wedding chaos, Brenda and I packed up our sedan and drove out to our beloved lake house in the Berkshire mountains—the very same lake house we had mortgaged thirty years ago to give Lucas his first shot at business.
The autumn air was crisp and clean, smelling of pine needles and woodsmoke. The maple trees surrounding the water had turned brilliant shades of amber, red, and gold, reflecting perfectly off the glassy surface of the lake.
We sat together on the wooden dock, our feet dangling just inches above the water, sharing a warm thermos of coffee.
Brenda rested her head gently against my shoulder, letting out a deep, contented sigh.
“Arthur,” she murmured, looking out across the water. “Do you ever regret anything we did for Lucas? Do you ever wish we had done more?”
I put my arm around her, pulling her close, feeling the steady, comforting rhythm of her heart against mine.
“No, Brenda,” I said softly, watching a lone hawk glide gracefully across the October sky. “We gave him love, education, and every opportunity to build an honest life. What he chose to do with those gifts was up to him.”
Brenda smiled, closing her eyes as the breeze ruffled her hair. “It’s so peaceful out here. Just the two of us, the trees, and the water.”
May you like
“Just the two of us,” I agreed.
The lake house was paid off. The family was quiet. And the debt had been settled, down to the very last drop of industrial super glue.
