Lost Lake


Suley, Georgia


Present day

Eby didn’t show up for lunch. The guests ate without her, assuming she was just too busy with her inventory. Lisette set out browned chicken, warm butternut squash salad, blue potatoes, and blackberry bread with a crust of sugar that looked like ice crystals.

When the phone in the foyer rang, everyone’s forks froze halfway to their mouths. They sat motionless, startled, not only because this was the first time the phone had rung since they all had arrived at Lost Lake, but also because Eby wasn’t there to answer it. When it rang again, they looked at each other curiously, like jungle natives marveling at technology. Even Lisette walked out of the kitchen and stood there as if wondering what to do.

“I’ll get it,” Kate said, taking her napkin out of her lap. She got up and walked to the foyer. She reached over the desk and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello?” A female voice said. “Is this Lost Lake?”

“Yes.”

“But this isn’t Eby.”

“No, I’m Kate. Eby’s niece.”

“Oh, good! You might be able to help me. I’m Lara Larkworthy from the Ladies League. We heard about Eby’s farewell party and we wanted to know what we could bring. I know Grady is bringing chicken wings. And I heard Mavis Baker is bringing her famous chowchow.”

Kate hesitated. “All I know is that Lisette is making a cake.”

“So you don’t need dessert. Good. I’ll tell the ladies. One more thing. My husband wants to know if his bluegrass band can play at the party. When they were boys, Eby used to hire them to play for her guests on the weekends. He wanted to play one last time for her.”

“Sure,” Kate said, though she wasn’t really sure at all. “I guess that will be okay.”

“He’ll be so happy! Thank you for your time. I hope to meet you on Saturday!”

Lara Larkworthy of the Ladies League hung up.

Kate put the receiver back in the cradle, then walked back to the dining room.

“I think we have a problem,” she said.

“Who was that?” Bulahdeen asked.

“Someone from town. She asked what her ladies group could bring to the party. She also asked if her husband’s band could play. I think this party is going to be a lot bigger than we thought.”

Lisette immediately wrote something on her notepad and showed it to Jack.

“Lisette says she’ll need someone to go to the grocery store for her again,” Jack said. “And she’ll need someone to help her make a bigger cake.”

“I’ll go to the store for you,” Kate said.

“And I’ll help with the cake,” Jack offered. He even stood up, as if volunteering for military duty.

“I knew it!” Bulahdeen said with a cackle. She slapped the table’s surface with the palm of her hand, making the silverware jump. “Just when you think you know the ending, it changes.”

Selma patted her mouth with her napkin, leaving a smear of lipstick. “No, really, you should look into getting that medication.”

Bulahdeen ignored her. “I taught literature for nearly forty years. The books I read when I was twenty completely changed when I read them when I was sixty. You know why? Because the endings changed. After you finish a book, the story still goes on in your mind. You can never change the beginning. But you can always change the end. That’s what’s happening here.”

No one responded. She looked frustrated that they didn’t understand.

“Kate,” Bulahdeen said, “Eby’s not really doing inventory, is she?”

Kate reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “Not really. No.”

“Eby doesn’t want to leave. We all know that.”

“I don’t think it’s within our power to stop her,” Jack said. “Is it?”

“Of course it is!” Bulahdeen said. “We’ve been coming back year after year, but have we ever truly let Eby know how much this place means to us? Does she really know how much we appreciate her? What have we been doing? We’ve just been hanging around, like we were waiting for this to happen, for Eby to finally give up. No more! I bet the whole town is coming here to tell her how much they love her. This isn’t a farewell party anymore. This is a make-Eby-stay party!”

Selma stood. “You can put a tuxedo on a goat, but it’s still a goat.”

“No, it’s not,” Bulahdeen said. “It’s a completely different goat when you put a tuxedo on it.”

“You’re feeling your oats today,” Selma said as she walked out.

“You bet I am. This is going to be great. There’s a lot more to do. I need to make another list.” Bulahdeen dove into her purse and began to rummage around in it, murmuring things to herself.

Confused, Devin turned to Kate and whispered, “Is there going to be a goat at this party?”

* * *

Eby spent time in cabin number 2 today, the cabin she always reserved for young mothers who wanted to get away from a screaming baby for a while. She’d fallen asleep on the fainting couch in the living room, and when she awoke, the sky was so low and dark that she thought for a moment she’d slept the day away. She lifted her wrist and looked at her watch. It was an hour past noon. She’d missed lunch, and her stomach began to growl.

She slowly sat up. Her knees popped, and she rubbed them before standing and going to the window. The picnic-table umbrellas were swaying in the wind, and leaves were rushing across the lawn, following one another frantically, as if they knew of a safe place to go. The sky was the color of old pewter. A flash of lightning illuminated the tree line at the far end of the lake. These flash storms happened a lot around the lake. They never actually produced rain, just a lot of drama. It took years to realize that. George and Eby used to scurry around and secure things and bring in tablecloths and food when the sky grew dark and the wind picked up, until they finally understood that nothing ever happened. Rain, when it came to Lost Lake, was like an old woman watering her garden. It always gave plenty of warning. It was always steady. And it never made a lot of noise. George used to laugh and say that when one of these flash storms in the distance finally produced rain at Lost Lake, it was time to worry.

Eby left the cabin and went straight to the lawn, feeling the wind blow wildly through her hair and the electricity in the air bounce around her. She stretched her arms out and lifted her face to the sky. She closed her eyes and waited. Her heart was beating quickly, alive. Her hands tingled with energy, as if forming something solid she could ball up and throw.

She waited. And waited.

Minutes later, she felt the wind die down, then she felt the light on her face. The storm had passed without a drop of rain.

She opened her eyes and dropped her arms.

Okay.

So it wasn’t time to worry yet.

Eby walked to the main house. The dining room had been cleared from lunch, so she went to the kitchen. Lisette was bringing out a variety of cake pans and intricate-looking pastry tools. Her father might have been a famous chef, but everything Lisette knew about pastries was self-taught, and she was exceedingly proud of that.

“I fell asleep doing inventory and missed lunch,” Eby said, going to the refrigerator and grabbing a handful of grapes. “Where is everyone?”

Lisette wrote, Jack will join me soon. He will help me with this cake.

“Jack? Here in your kitchen?” That made Eby’s brows rise. “What does Luc think of this?” Eby gestured to the empty chair in the corner.

As always, Lisette became uncomfortable when Eby spoke of Luc.

Eby knew all too well that there was a fine line when it came to grief. If you ignore it, it goes away, but then it always comes back when you least expect it. If you let it stay, if you make a place for it in your life, it gets too comfortable and it never leaves. It was best to treat grief like a guest. You acknowledge it, you cater to it, then you send it on its way.

Lisette had let Luc stay for far too long.

I am not speaking to Luc.

“He agrees with me, doesn’t he? About you and Jack.”

You and Luc are both trying to make me happy without you. How does that work, exactly? How can I be happy without you?

Eby read that and shook her head. “There aren’t a finite number of things that can make you happy. There’s more than just me and Luc. I’d wager Luc would agree with me.”

Lisette rolled her eyes and wrote, Why should I listen to either of you? Luc is a child, and you are an old woman.

That made Eby laugh. “I’m old? You’re no spring chicken, missy.”

Lisette threw her hands in the air, a very European expression of exasperation, something she hadn’t lost in fifty years spent in the American South. No matter how hard she tried, and she did try, Lisette would always look not-from-here. You didn’t need to hear a voice or an accent to figure that out.

“Where is everyone else?” Eby said, taking a slice of blackberry bread from the tray before Lisette put it away.

Lisette sighed and wrote, Planning your party.

Eby turned before Lisette could see her reach up and touch her chest, touch that fluttering under her skin. The guests were throwing her a farewell party. Jack had come for Lisette. Wes was selling his property. She had put all of this in motion. She knew it was for the best. She couldn’t save this place.

She walked to the front desk and sat down, leaning back to check once more for rain, but finding only sunshine. The lake was telling her not to worry, that everything was going to be all right, but she still had an uneasy feeling.