Cabin on the Lake

I sighed and pulled my hat brim down to protect my face from the summer sun. Just a few more chapters, I promised myself, turning my attention back to my book. After several efforts to read, I discovered I couldn’t focus on the words, so I leaned back and looked at the lake.

A loon called from not far away. A couple was canoeing towards the access dock. The light breeze ruffled the water, making it shimmer with the late morning sun. Pine and birch trees framed the lake. I saw a small fish jump.

I sighed again.

I was relieved I had convinced my husband, Todd, not to sell our Minnesota cabin when we moved to Texas. We had so many great memories on the lake. We spent many summers here, swimming, fishing, boating and searching for wild berries. I remembered fondly when Todd dunked my head in the lake playfully after I won a swimming race.

Now, Todd would be happy to stay in Texas. He had a brother and a cousin there.

Never mind that ALL of my relatives still lived in the Land of 10,000 Lakes. To me, visiting this idyllic place was like coming home.

My mind snapped back to the present. It was time to think about lunch - perhaps a salad and some burgers.

I started up the stone steps. I felt like I was forgetting something - something I couldn’t quite dredge up.

The back door was open, swinging in the breeze.

“Todd!” I called out, “You left the door open. You’ll let in mosquitoes or maybe critters.” I cringed at the thought of trying to extricate a raccoon or skunk.

Todd didn’t answer.

As I approached, I said, “I’m going to make a salad. Will you grill some burgers?”

Still no answer.

Stepping through the door, something felt off. Then, I realized our photos were missing from the mantle. Everything else seemed like the same, quaint cabin I loved. I stared in disbelief. How could that have happened? They were just there.

I heard a car. I could see through the front window that it was Todd’s Volvo. Where had he gone? Why hadn’t he told me he was leaving?

He parked, stepped out, and slammed the car door. Then, he clicked open the trunk, and pulled out a sign and a hammer. Even from inside the cabin, I could see that the sign said, “Furnished Cabin For Sale.”

“Todd!” I yelled through the window, “You promised.”

Ignoring me, he walked across the circular drive to the entrance near the tree line. He started hammering the sign in place with gusto.

I rushed through the front door and tried again, “Todd, we discussed this over and over.” I felt the volume of my voice crescendo along with my anger. “We are not selling this cabin.”

“Cheryl,” he finally spoke, without the decency to look me in the face, “You can’t tell me what to do anymore.” He slammed the hammer down one last time. He still didn’t face me.

I ran at him and attempted to grab his arm to turn him around, but my hand went right through him.

I got a sudden chill and a rush of memories.

We had argued about the cabin yet again. He pushed me, and I fell on the stone steps, striking my head - hard.

Instead of helping me, he walked away, leaving me to die alone.

Without a glance in his direction, I went back through the cabin and floated down the steps. I sat on my beach chair, looking out at my serene lake. Home forever.