both, she is certain. Yet, she finds herself curious. Whoever it was out on the dock last night, not only plays, but plays wellâif her water- and wine-logged ears were any judge. It will remain a mystery thoughâthere is no one she could ask, least of all Ian. The topic of their tenant is probably another off-limits subject.
She changes and goes downstairs to find the house empty. Then she remembers that it is the last Friday of the month. No wonder Ian hadnât bothered to wake her. Heâs gone to town; he wonât be home until late tonight.
His twice-monthly trips to the office in town are strictly for the benefit of his clients. He never stays overnight. Even though the office has a small suite upstairs, he returns home no matter how late he works. His way of proving his fidelity? It isnât necessary. Julie isnât even certain if Valerie Ladner is still one of his clients. She wonât ask. He wonât say.
After fortifying herself with aspirin and coffee, she goes out to the front patio to clean up the evidence of her solitary drinking.
The morning air is crisp, fall creeping in on slow baby steps. The lakeâs motionless surface reflects a perfect image of the bordering trees and an unbroken blue sky. She glances to her left, to the pastures at the end of the lake. She has often spotted deer in the stubbled fields since haying season. They show up in herds to graze on the new shoots of grass. Sometimes, from the kitchen window she watches the bolder ones who, twitching their white tails, come right into the yard to munch on the front lawn.
A movement in the marshes at the mouth of the creek catches her eye. She squints into the light until a hulking brown form standing knee deep among the reeds, lifts a heavily antlered head. Water streaming from his bearded jaw, the moose chews unconcerned while staring in her direction. Julie remains unmoving as they keep a mutual eye on each other. The massive animal offers no threat at this distance, yet she feels her heartbeat quicken, the blood pounding in her ears.
Out of nowhere, last nightâs dangerous thoughts surface in her mind. Had she really tempted death out on the lake? Although sheâs not religious in the conventional terms, Julie has always held the belief that taking your own life is a cop-out, a selfish option. She has always believed that everyone has an obligation to life itself, to see it through, no matter what. After Darlaâs accident, the doctor had given Julie sleeping pills. But regardless of how sleep eluded her, since that fateful night when she had not woken to Darlaâs call, she has been unable to swallow one. Only now does she ask herself, why then, is she still hanging on to those pills?
Across the way, the bull moose turns and climbs up the creek bank. Sure-footed in his lumbering grace he crosses the meadow to clear the far fence without effort and disappears into the woods.
Julie goes inside to the kitchen and, still lost in thought, pours herself another cup of coffee. Staring out the window, she decides that, like the moose, there really was no danger last night; it was just the wine, that was all. She will have to be careful, though.
She forces her mind away from there, imagines herself telling Ian about the moose, which she had found strangely beautiful and ugly at the same time. She suddenly wishes sheâd had a camera to capture that image.
When she was selling real estate, she had always been proud of her listing photographs. âYou have an eye,â she was told more than once. A spark of something close to excitement ignites somewhere inside her. She is spending so much time outside now she might as well make use of it, capture some of these images. She could send them to Jessie and the girls. And to her mother, let her see that things are not completely bleak out here. An involuntary chuckle rises to the back of her throat at the idea of sending her a mother a photograph of a
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