Page 83 of Years in the Making

“That’s so good to hear.”

“I was worried you’d be farther west. Three hours is about as far as I want to be traveling to get to a library,” Donna says.

“I heard you say three hours, but I assumed you were exaggerating.” I may have driven for sixteen hours to get here, but I can’t imagine traveling three just to go to a library.

“No exaggeration. I applied for the pilot program but lost out to Marmot here.”

“Oh.” I’m suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m so sorry. I had no say in where this was happening. I just volunteered to bring the books.”

“Are you a librarian?”

“I am, although here I’m just a book fairy with an advanced degree.”

“Well, whatever you are”—Donna rests her hand on my shoulder—“you have made my whole summer.”

Something warm blooms in my chest. This is the feeling I have been missing while working at the university.

“I’m so glad.” I smile back.

“I better get over there, or they’ll toss the place.” She rolls her eyes, straightens her shoulders, and marches off towards her very well-behaved children.

With the family of five, a handful of Midge’s grandchildren coming by again, and a few middle-aged couples stopping by, the library has been considerably busier today than yesterday. By the time I get everything shut away and back to Midge’s, everyone has already started eating. Except there’s no sign of Teddy. When I don’t find him in the bunkie, I push down the urge to go in search of him and opt instead to join the others for dinner.

“Cold plates tonight,” Midge says when I reach the patio door.

I have no idea what that means so I just nod like I understand. The kitchen island has a spread I’d describe as dorm charcuterie. Or maybe, in this case, kids’ charcuterie. There are lots of vegetables but also recognizable lunch meat rolled up alongside cubes of cheese and pickles. Leftover macaroni and potato salad complete the spread.

“Has Teddy eaten?” I ask before popping a pickled onion in my mouth.

“I haven’t seen him,” Midge says with her head inside the fridge.

“At all?” I put my plate down and walk over to the window above the sink as if he’ll be right outside.

“No, honey, not since he got coffee this morning. Why?”

“He said he was going to walk back and make a call in the bunkie, but he’s not here.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. It’s easy to get lost in these woods, but easy enough to find your way back.” She tugs my arm gently and hands me back my plate. “Sometimes we’ve gotta let people lose themselves for a bit.”

I spend the rest of dinner and my evening with Midge andthe kids looking over my shoulder, always expecting to see Teddy approaching with a guilty wave. By the time I crawl into bed, the feelings I’d experienced twelve years earlier are bubbling to the surface. I don’t want to believe he’d disappear again, but I know he’s capable of it. Not just that, he’s good at it. Long after all the noise of the world dies away and the night soundtrack has reached its climax, the bunkie door opens with a slight squeak. I know it’s Teddy just from the sound of his footsteps, but I don’t turn to him or give any indication that I’m awake. I’m too angry. Angry at him for disappearing, even for a short time, and angrier at myself for caring.

“Sit,” I hear him whisper to Kevin followed by the sound of Kevin’s tiny teeth crunching something. Then the unmistakable sounds of clothes coming off and a body sliding between the sheets.

I want to roll over and demand to know where he was so badly, but I hold myself in place, desperately trying to keep my breathing even.

I don’t sleep at all, and at the first sign of morning, I slip out of bed. In the bathroom, which doubles as a change room and is not nearly as scary as I had been warned, I put on my bathing suit and cover back up in my sweatpants and sweatshirt. Then I grab Kevin’s lifejacket and a towel from the truck before grabbing the very sleepy pup from the foot of Teddy’s bed. I’m exhausted, but the minute I hear the loons I can feel the anger I’ve been holding onto start to evaporate.

This lake is warmer than the last one, and it doesn’t take me long to acclimate. Floating on my back while Kevin paddles like mad beside me, I close my eyes and try to just be.

“Hey buddy.” Teddy’s rich voice breaks the silence. My eyes fly open just in time to see Kevin’s front legs trying to cling to Teddy’s bare shoulder. “How long have you been out here?” It takes me a minute to realize he’s asking me and not the dog.

“Ugh, I don’t know. I may have fallen asleep.”

“Real safe, Nellie,” he scolds.

“Says the guy who disappeared yesterday. I see you haven’t lost your touch. Really dealing with things head-on still, I see. Thanks for not waiting over a decade to come back,” I spit, shocking myself with how unfiltered I let myself be.

I’m angry again, on the verge of a tantrum. I slip beneath the water and swim as fast as I can to the shore. Not looking back, I grab my towel, wrap it around myself, and head towards the trail.

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