Ambrosia Moon

By P.F. Kozak

To escape a troubled marriage, Katherine Robinson goes to her late mother’s cabin in the Adirondacks. There she meets Ryan Cavanaugh, a rustic artisan, and Ben Sutton, a retired cop. Both these men, one younger, one older, are attracted to her, and she responds to both of them. When she also discovers her mother’s secret life, Katherine realizes she has options she never dreamed possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: P.F. Kozak
• Release date: Jul 21, 2010
• ISBN: 9780982893302

P.F. Kozak

P. F. Kozak writes about relationships and how people change because of them. Her degree in English writing and theatre serves her well as she explores the inner worlds of her characters. First published as an author of erotic romance, she discovered fiction for women gave her an opportunity to explore sensitive issues relevant to her female peers. She hopes her work will encourage other women to enjoy their individual creativity and passion. P.F. lives in New York City with her husband and their two cats.

Book preview

Ambrosia Moon

by

P.F. Kozak

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Sagacity Press on Smashwords

Ambrosia Moon

Copyright ©2010 by P.F. Kozak

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Author’s Note: This book contains adult content.

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Chapter Links

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

About The Author

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Ambrosia Moon

Tree of life under an Ambrosia moon

Divine light shining in the night

Sweet plums infused with immortal nectar

Promising life and love forever

If the tree grows out of reach

And the fruit cannot be savored

There is still the Ambrosia moon

That glows with love eternal

If two hearts are open and intentions true

Bodies and souls entwined as they lie

Bathing in the halo of that golden sphere

Will anoint the lovers with ambrosial dew

Lay with me in an open field

Naked under the bright full moon

That we may know love this night

In the light of Ambrosia moon

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Chapter One

Katherine tucked her phone in her purse. While packing, she remembered to call the garage and tell them to get her car out. If she had to wait, she might change her mind, and this time, that wasn’t an option.

The dinner conversation last night had escalated into a full blown fight. She’d asked Tom to take some vacation days and go to the cabin with her, and not surprisingly, he had his I’m too busy excuse waiting. Hearing it again made her angrier than ever before. After months of trying to get him to go upstate, Katherine’s tightly wound coil snapped. The whole stay-at-home wife thing snapped. She made it crystal clear that if he wouldn’t go with her, she’d go alone, and told Tom exactly where he could go without her.

At breakfast, Tom didn’t mention the argument, and Katherine chose not to beat a dead horse. Even with the oppressive silence, the echo of their quarrel lingered, and Tom left for the office without his usual goodbye kiss. After he’d gone, Katherine sat on the sofa and cried. This rift between them had become so much more than a disagreement about a trip, and God almighty, it hurt.

When Katherine calmed down, she called Shelly. After hearing predictions of bears, snakes and Manson Family wannabes, Katherine reminded her daughter that Grandma had spent many summers in the Adirondacks, and nothing had happened to her.

Since Mother died, Katherine couldn’t stop thinking about the cabin. Maybe that’s where she’d left the pieces of her life that had disappeared, just like her sandals had disappeared in this over-stuffed closet. After digging again, she finally unearthed them at the bottom of a shopping bag full of old shoes. When she came out, she never expected to find Tom standing by the bedroom door.

What are you doing home? Don’t you have a meeting this morning? Katherine tossed the worn sandals into her overflowing suitcase. The dress she’d left on the bed wasn’t going to fit.

Shelly called and told me you’re leaving. I came home to find out what the hell is going on.

I’m going to the cabin.

I had to hear this from Shelly?

I told you last night I was going.

You were pissed off when you said that. I didn’t think you really meant it. Tom lifted a layer of clothes to see deeper into the suitcase. Why are you packing so much?

Katherine slammed the lid shut. I’m going to the mountains. I need clothes. A sweater bulged out the side of the bag. She pushed it back in.

Are you going because of Adelaide? Tom pointed to several small red books on the bed. Did you read something in her journals?

She looked into his soft brown eyes with the crinkles at the sides that she’d always found so compelling. This time, she saw no comprehension.

I haven’t read Mother’s diaries yet. Katherine scooped the books off the bed and shoved them into her tote bag. This isn’t about my mother, it’s about me.

What are you talking about?

I want to see the cabin again and you won’t go with me. Tears stung Katherine’s eyes.

I said I can’t because things are really hectic at the office.

Yeah, right—just like they were last summer and the summer before. Katherine stuffed her camera and lens case into her tote, then grabbed a tissue to wipe her nose. I can’t live like this anymore.

Live like what?

Begging you for time.

You’re leaving because we aren’t spending enough time together?

It’s more than that. We barely talk to each other. I’ll be damned if I know how this happened, but I’m sick of it.

Tom waved his hand in resignation. Things change.

Yes, Tom, they do. Katherine looked away when the light caught his wedding ring. She leaned on the suitcase and with some effort, zipped it. Her sandals were clearly outlined inside the soft leather bag.

How long will you be gone? Tom lifted the suitcase off the bed and set it on the floor. From the looks of this, it’ll be more than a few days.

I don’t know for how long. I need time alone.

Tom seemed to be listening. For a moment, she glimpsed the man she’d married, handsome, confident, responsive. She used to tease him about how much he looked like Stewart Granger. The resemblance had intensified with age, his salt and pepper hair accented by the stark grey at his temples. After all these years, she still found him attractive.

Katherine almost suggested going someplace for a cup of coffee, so they could talk, but Tom’s cell phone rang a fraction of a second before she asked.

Honey, I have to take this. It’s Roberta. He went into the living room to talk to his assistant.

A sharp pain sliced through her. Since Tom’s promotion to editor-in-chief three years ago, she’d felt this intangible disconnect too many times to count, his obsession with his job had taken over his life, and hers with it. Katherine wedged the last few things into her tote bag, and hooked it on the handle of her suitcase. If she’d forgotten anything, she’d buy it there. Hell’s bells, she was going to upstate New York, not to Siberia.

When she wheeled her suitcase into the living room, she heard Tom say, I understand. I’ll meet his agent at the restaurant in an hour. When he closed his phone, he noticed Katherine standing behind him. You’re going now? Aren’t we going to talk about this?

The utter obtuseness of the question made her laugh. For Christ’s sake, Tom, I just heard you say you’re meeting someone’s agent in an hour. When are we going to talk? Should I schedule an appointment with Roberta? Her purse and laptop were on the sofa. Excuse me. She reached around Tom to grab them.

Katherine, it’s not like you to go off half-cocked and do something crazy like this.

What I’m doing is not crazy. I’ve wanted to go to the cabin since Mother died, you know that. I’ve asked you to go with me often enough.

At least put off leaving until tomorrow. We’ll go to a nice restaurant for dinner.

Tom’s selective hearing kicked in, they’d had this conversation before, and Katherine knew not to expect his full attention tonight.

What about that? She pointed to a partially read manuscript lying on the coffee table. Didn’t you say to make the print schedule, you have to turn it in tomorrow?

I can finish it if we’re home by eight. Tom impatiently glanced at his watch. How about if I make a reservation at Clair de Lune for six o’clock?

Tom didn’t know it, but he’d just pushed her out the door. When he got promoted at Serapis Press, they’d celebrated at Clair de Lune. The dim lighting and Left Bank décor brought to mind a romantic basement restaurant in Paris. Katherine imitated their waitress’s French accent and had Tom in stitches. When they got home, Tom was all over her and they’d ended up in bed. Katherine couldn’t remember making love since.

Tom squeezing her into a two-hour slot in his schedule cut Katherine deeply, and talking about their imploding marriage at Clair de Lune would rub salt into the open wound.

I’m leaving now. Katherine gripped the handle of the suitcase so tightly her fingernails cut into the palm of her hand. If you don’t understand why, I’m sorry.

And I’m sorry you feel that way, Katherine. He glanced at his watch again. I have to go do some emergency damage control, McIntyre is about to jump ship. Matthew McIntyre was one of Serapis’ big selling authors—right now, she didn’t care.

Katherine’s voice cracked along with her heart. You’ll do that for an author, but you won’t do it for me?

I told you I’d have dinner with you, for God’s sake. This is the middle of a work day. I shouldn’t even be here.

Neither should I. Katherine yanked the suitcase handle and pulled her luggage toward the door. I’ll call Shelly when I get to the cabin.

Katherine . . .

She didn’t turn around. Tears blurred her eyes as she closed the door. Thankfully, the elevator came right away, because the last thing she wanted was a confrontation with Tom in the hall.

The two block walk to the garage on a crowded Manhattan street turned into a hazy obstacle course. Katherine stopped on the corner of West 83rd Street so she could compose herself before getting in her car. The ragged tissues she found at the bottom of her purse were barely useable, resembling something she’d salvaged from the garbage. It hadn’t occurred to her to grab a fresh handful.

She backtracked to a small drugstore, where she got Kleenex, a bottle of water and a bag of pretzels. Since shopping had calmed her enough to call Shelly, Katherine parked her luggage in a quiet corner and braced for telling her daughter she’d left.

Mom?

You must’ve had the phone in your hand. It barely rang.

I did have it in my hand. Dad just called. He’s really upset.

That makes two of us.

He said he tried to stop you from leaving, and you wouldn’t listen to him.

Shelly, I’m in a drugstore. This is not the time to talk about it.

Mom, please don’t go. I told you, it scares me to think of you in the woods by yourself. Give me time to arrange it. I’ll go with you.

For heaven’s sake, Shelly, like I told you, Grandma stayed there herself. What’s there to be afraid of?

Grandma was used to it. You’re not. You haven’t been upstate in years. Please let me go with you.

I have to go by myself, honey. I need the time alone.

Katherine heard Shelly sniff, and knew she must be crying. How long will you be gone?

I don’t know. Maybe all summer. We’ll see.

Shelly sobbed into the phone. Are you and Dad getting divorced?

Hearing Shelly say it out loud made Katherine’s legs rubbery, and she steadied herself against a shelf of shaving cream. I don’t know. He’s been in a world of his own lately. Maybe this is the wakeup call he needs.

Mom, I tried to tell him. I really did.

So did I. He isn’t listening.

Can Gail and I come visit?

Maybe, if you don’t mind sleeping on Grandma’s lumpy sofa bed . . . and don’t fool around in the living room.

Shelly made a choking sound. Her laugh came out more like a cough. C’mon, Mom, get with the program. Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.

Katherine smiled at her daughter’s insinuation. Even if your dad is being an asshole, I still prefer men, thank you very much.

We’ll see how long that lasts. I remember those ladies in the 90-Miler canoe race. Grandma introduced me to a bunch of them when they were training on the river. Maybe that’s why I like women.

Really? I’ll keep that in mind the next time I go canoe racing. Relieved that Shelly sounded more herself, Katherine thought it a good time to end the call. Sweetie, I have to get going. I’ll call once I’m at the cabin, and you can let your father know I got there in one piece.

Aren’t you going to call Dad?

No. Katherine said nothing else.

All right, I’ll tell him. I’ll be around if you want to call later. It’s a long trip.

We’ll see. Katherine’s composure slipped as she said good-bye. I love you, honey. She hoped Shelly didn’t hear her voice catch.

I love you, too, Mom. Drive safely.

I will. Katherine pressed the end call button.

Her stomach felt awful. Before resuming her trek to the garage, Katherine picked up a roll of Tums and some Coca-Cola. With her luggage and shopping bag in tow, she had an unsettling sense of herself as a bag lady.

Even with the financial cushion from Mother’s estate, she could be homeless. If she divorced Tom, where the devil would she go, and what would she do? No way could she stay at the cabin during the winter. Katherine remembered Dad bitching about the road not being plowed when he went hunting, and about how cold it got at night. The cabin didn’t have a furnace. The only heat came from the fireplace and the oven in the kitchen.

She muttered to herself, I could always hibernate like a goddamn bear. She sheepishly glanced around to make sure no one heard her before adding, No wonder bag ladies talk to themselves, at least someone is listening.

The attendant had her blue Toyota outside the garage with a K. Robinson sign on the dashboard. While Katherine had the Camry, Shelly would probably ask Tom to borrow his Lexus. She had a better chance of winning the lottery than getting Tom’s pride and joy.

Katherine picked up her keys, put the luggage and laptop on the backseat, and tossed everything else in the front. Sipping a Coke settled her stomach, especially after she burped. Even alone in the car, she said, Excuse me. The now-or-never moment had come, she took a deep breath and turned the key. With Lot’s wife in mind, she pulled out of the parking space, and didn’t look back.

Driving in traffic forced her to focus. Having an accident before she left the city would totally derail her escape. It wasn’t until she reached the Tappan Zee Bridge that traffic finally thinned. She relaxed and settled into the trip.

Katherine cruised along for several minutes, when suddenly, a horn blared behind her. Without the congestion on the highway to keep her alert, she’d drifted back to how she’d just walked out on Tom, and the car drifted with her thoughts. Her heart thumping, Katherine steered back into her own lane.

Since music might make her cry again, she tuned in an NPR discussion about global warming. That kept her focused through Albany. When she saw the Exit 9 Clifton Park 1 mi. sign, it sparked a memory.

Whenever Mother came upstate, she always stopped at a mall in Clifton Park to get groceries. Katherine got a kick out of listening to her rave about the Food Fresh supermarket and how it put the cramped NYC markets—even the biggest ones—to shame. Mother had christened Food Fresh the Food Football Field.

Since Katherine needed lunch and food for the cabin, she took the exit. The mall wasn’t hard to find, with multiple road signs pointing the way, Katherine had the eerie feeling that all roads in Clifton Park led to the Shopping Central Mall. This could be a Twilight Zone episode—you come to shop, but you never really check out. Do-do-do-doo, do-do-do-doo…

Katherine easily spotted Food Fresh. Mother had mentioned a few other shops, including a liquor store and a small deli café next to it. After buying some wine and putting it in her trunk, she went to the café for lunch.

While eating her ham sandwich, Katherine thought about all the times Mother had made this trip. Before she retired from teaching art history at NYU, Mother couldn’t wait for the spring semester to end so she could go to the cabin. The ritual was for her to leave New York in June and come home in September.

The cabin had been her refuge during the years after Dad’s death. When Mother came home last September, no one had any idea it would be the last summer she would spend at her beloved cabin. There had been no warning. In February, she had a stroke, lapsed into a coma and died two days later. The doctor called it a cerebral embolism; a blood clot had broken loose and lodged in her brain. She never knew what happened.

After the funeral, Shelly and Gail helped her clean out the apartment. Shelly wanted Mother’s laptop, but Katherine claimed it along with the journals. Tom helped her sell the apartment. Being Mother’s sole beneficiary simplified everything, they closed the sale in May, sooner than Katherine expected. Tom also wanted to sell the cabin, but Shelly pitched a fit. She wanted it to stay in the family and Katherine agreed with her.

The cabin had rich family history. Dad bought it years ago as a hunting and fishing camp. Neither Katherine nor Mother saw it for many years; it was totally Dad’s sanctuary, for him and his cronies. During those years, the cabin had been an exclusive male club, no women allowed.

The summer of 1988, everything changed. Dad had smoked unfiltered cigarettes for as long as Katherine could remember. When he finally went to the doctor for his shortness of breath, he found out he had acute emphysema. Also that year, the New York City temperatures hit record levels, and the drought made air quality toxic. Dad was a virtual shut in, practically unable to breathe if he went outside. That’s when Mother stepped in.

She’d read how in the early 1900s, tuberculosis patients insisted the Adirondack air helped them, especially at Saranac Lake. Dad’s camp was also in the Adirondack Park, near Schroon Lake. Mother figured if the fresh mountain air helped tuberculosis, it might also work for emphysema.

During the heat wave, Mother decided they were going to the cabin, and Dad was hardly in a position to argue. He’d already left his law practice and gone on disability. His choices were limited, either stay in New York and sit inside all summer, or go to the Adirondacks with Mother.

That difficult summer twenty years ago must have been the first time Mother drove upstate because Dad was too sick to drive. She packed a suitcase, got Dad in the car and left. That started an annual summer exodus, which probably added years to Dad’s life.

The young waitress interrupted her recollections. Would you like anything else, ma’am?

No, thank you. Just the check, please. Katherine wondered at what point in her life she’d become a ma’am.

On the way to Food Fresh, she checked her cell phone, and had a short text from Shelly. Are you OK?

Katherine quickly answered, I’m fine. Stopped at Clifton Park for lunch. Am now shopping at Food Football Field. She knew Shelly would get the connection. There was nothing from Tom.

For as many times as her mother had sung the praises of Food Fresh, Katherine had never been there. When the glass doors swung open and she walked in, she whispered, Holy hell!

An old Bugs Bunny cartoon flashed in her mind. In it, Bugs climbed a beanstalk a la Jack and the Beanstalk, and found himself face to face with a patch of gigantic carrots. He stood in total awe of the spectacle in front of him, which is what Katherine did now. As far as she could see in any direction there were aisles of food, the cavernous store seemed to have no end. Katherine pulled an oversized shopping cart from the long line by the door. She had no idea where to begin.

Katherine wandered around. Not once in an undersized Manhattan supermarket had she seen a fondue pot, or a three pound box of Wheaties or a display with seventy-five kinds of dried fruit. No wonder Mother gave the store kudos.

On her way to check-out, she remembered Mother complaining about the ants, and tossed a package of ant traps into her cart. Shopping in the superstore had been therapeutic, but if she hoped to get to the cabin before dark, she’d better hit the road.

As Katherine left the parking lot, her cell phone chimed with another text from Shelly. Good that U R OK. I called Dad. He is worried about you. Call me when you get there. xoxoxo. Katherine tossed the phone on the passenger’s seat. If Tom was so worried about her, why hadn’t he called? Shelly must have used up the allotted family phone time.

Now more angry than weepy, Katherine shot through the intersection and followed the signs to I-87 north. NPR had faded, so she tuned in a local station playing oldies. The songs weren’t old to her, she knew all the words to the first three they played, and even sang along with American Pie. When they played the Bee Gees singing How Do You Mend a Broken Heart, she changed the station.

The Exit 26 Pottersville 1 mi sign finally came into view and she knew to follow the signs to US-9. After that, she wasn’t sure what road to take. At least she’d remembered to stash the directions Mother had given her years ago into her purse.

At Pottersville, she pulled over to look at the directions, and remembered Mother had told them to turn at Schroon River Road, not East Schroon River Road. Katherine moved on, driving slowly on the twisty-turny road. She made the turn Mother warned about, and was relieved to recognize the narrow road with the Schroon River rushing over the rocks on one side, and cabins intermittently interrupting the trees on the other.

The Cavanaughs had owned the cabin closest to Mother’s. Katherine passed it and noticed a pickup truck parked there, which reassured her that there were people close by. About half a mile down the road, Mother’s cabin came into view. It jarred her that it wasn’t Mother’s cabin anymore, it now belonged to her.

Katherine parked the car in front of the porch. Weeds had overgrown the cleared area which doubled as their yard, making it look as though the Adirondack forest wanted to reclaim the property. Remembering Shelly’s warning about snakes, she stepped carefully in the high grass.

After putting everything from the car onto the porch, she stopped and listened to the soothing sound of white water pouring over the rocks. She saw two loons gliding above the water, backlit by the setting sun. No wonder Mother came here year after year. Dad might not have realized he’d found paradise, but Mother certainly did.

Katherine retrieved the key to her cabin and opened the door. The place smelled a bit stale, but not too bad considering it had been locked up for nine months. The living room hadn’t changed much, two plaid recliners sat on one side of the stone fireplace and the matching sofa bed sat on the other. Dad must have liked this pattern. Tartan furniture hardly seemed the choice Mother would make.

A couple new pieces caught Katherine’s eye. A rustic rocking chair sat in the far corner, and an unusual coffee table made of stained wood, bark and odd shaped tree limbs filled the space in front of the sofa. Mother hadn’t mentioned getting those.

Katherine carried her grocery bags to the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks. The setting sun glowed orange through the window over the sink, throwing a spotlight on the carpenter ants that crawled on the counter by the cupboards and all over the sink.

She took her bags back to the living room. Six ant traps were laughable for the size of the problem, and it would be dark soon. It wasn’t a good idea to drive on unfamiliar roads trying to find bug spray. She really didn’t know what to do.

Then she remembered the Cavanaughs, maybe they’d have spray she could borrow. Katherine grabbed her purse and went back to her car. She backtracked the half mile to the next cabin and pulled into the driveway. Feeling more than a little sheepish about her dilemma, she nonetheless followed through and knocked on the door. An attractive young man with long hair and a goatee answered.

Hello there. He came out on the porch. Are you having car trouble? The glare from the setting sun made him squint.

My car is fine. I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a small problem and thought our old neighbors, the Cavanaughs, still had this cabin. But maybe you could help me?

The young man turned and gave her the queerest look. Then he smiled broadly. My God, Katherine? Is Adelaide with you?

Katherine didn’t know what to say.

* * * *

Chapter Two

There followed an awkward silence. Katherine had no idea who this man was, and he didn’t know Mother had died. Before she could gather her wits, he apologized.

Christ, I’m sorry. Please, come in? He held the door open for her.

When she walked past, something about his profile seemed familiar. He had Seamus’ jaw line. Then it hit her. Oh, my goodness, you’re Ryan!

That’s me.

I haven’t seen you in such a long time, I didn’t recognize you with the long hair and beard. She looked around, hoping to see Seamus and Fiona. Are your parents here?

’Fraid not. I live here now.

You live here? You mean year round?

Yeah. I know it’s nuts, but I love this place.

Katherine smiled. Well, maybe it is a bit crazy. How do you manage when it gets cold?

Sheer stubbornness, mostly . . . and a tank of oil for the furnace. He pointed to the fireplace. Lots of wood helps, too. I’m surprised Adelaide didn’t tell you I’m here.

Hearing him say Mother’s name with such fondness and familiarity startled Katherine. She had to tell him what happened, sooner rather than later.

Ryan, could we sit down for a minute?

Sure. He took her arm and led her to the sofa. You look upset. What’s wrong?

He’d asked a loaded question. Resisting the temptation to unburden her soul, Katherine addressed the immediate issue. You were close to Mother?

We’ve been good friends for years. He studied her face. Did you say ‘were’?

Ryan, Mother had a stroke in February. She passed away a few days later.

He stared at her, the shock evident. Adelaide is dead?

Yes. I’m so sorry we didn’t know to tell you. Mother never mentioned being close to anyone here.

No, I don’t suppose she did. Ryan rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair. She usually calls at the end of May asking me to open the cabin for her. I wondered why she hadn’t called yet.

She would be here now, if . . . Katherine couldn’t bring herself to say it again.

Are you here to sell the place?

No. I’m not selling it. I’m here for a vacation.

I’m glad you’re not selling. Adelaide would want you to keep it.

That’s exactly what Shelly said. Oh, God! Katherine frantically dug in her bag for her phone. Excuse me, Ryan, I have to let Shelly know I’m here.

Sure enough, she had another text. Are you at the cabin yet? I’m getting worried.

Ryan stood. Would you like a beer? I sure as hell would.

Yes, please, I’d love a beer. It had been ages since Katherine drank beer, she preferred wine.

Again, Shelly answered almost immediately. Mom? It’s about time you called.

Shelly’s obvious concern amused Katherine. Well, isn’t that the shoe being on the other foot? How does it feel, Miss ‘I’ll call when I get around to it’?

All right, I get the point. Why are you calling so late? I thought your car died in the middle of nowhere.

My car’s running perfectly, I just stayed too long at Food Football Field. When I got to the cabin, I interrupted an ant orgy in the kitchen. Ryan came back and handed her a mug of beer.

Thank you.

Who are you talking to?

Ryan Cavanaugh. He just brought me a beer.

Well, that didn’t take long. Should I tell Dad you’re partying with Ryan already?

Not wanting to let on Shelly made a snarky remark, Katherine continued. I don’t have any spray, so I came next door to see if I could borrow some. That’s when I remembered I hadn’t called you.

You know, Ryan had a thing for Grandma. Shelly sounded huffy.

No, I didn’t know that. She glanced at Ryan, standing by the fireplace. We’ll talk about it later.

Watch out for him, Mom, he likes older women, if you get what I mean. Katherine’s amusement at the role reversal with her daughter erupted into laughter.

What’s so funny?

Had Ryan not been standing a few feet away, Katherine would’ve told Shelly how ridiculous her warning sounded. Dear, I think you need to get some rest, you sound a bit punchy. I have to go now and do something about those ants.

I’ll let Dad know you’re safe and having a beer with Ryan.

Tell him about the ants, too. Katherine had to give her prickly daughter a little poke.

Yeah, I’ll tell him, I’m sure he’ll be interested.

You always have been an optimist. Katherine knew Tom would be reading the manuscript by now, and would hurry Shelly off the phone.

You’ll call me tomorrow, won’t you?

Maybe. If I’m busy, I’ll send you a text.

Busy doing what?

Good night, sweetheart, pleasant dreams. She ended the call.

Ignoring Shelly’s phobic warning, Katherine tried to sound casual. I have a picture of you holding Shelly when you were about sixteen. Did you see her when she visited Mother? She’s all grown up now.

I saw her. I met Gail, too. Don’t think either of them like me much.

Why would you think that?

Because I’m a man.

Katherine drank some of her beer before she responded. You shoot from the hip, don’t you?

I suppose so. That’s why I liked Adelaide. She did, too.

Katherine could also speak her mind. Shelly just told me you had a thing for Mother. Did you?

She watched him carefully, he didn’t flinch. We spent a lot of time together. She taught me stuff—about art, about life. He paused and stared at the floor. I’m going to miss her.

Ryan obviously needed some time. Katherine waited. She set her mug on the coffee table and noticed it had the same rustic look as the one in her cabin. In fact, most of his furniture had a similar bucolic design.

This table looks familiar. She pointed to a rocking chair on the other side of the room. So does that chair. I have similar pieces in my living room.

I know. I made them.

You make furniture?

I do a lot of things. I’m a licensed New York State guide. When I’m not doing that, I make furniture. I also paint landscapes now and again.

Mother would’ve eaten up the rustic woodworking. She loved Early American and Shaker furniture. You’re an artist, too? No wonder you got along so well.

She once said we were kindred spirits. The longer I knew her, the more I believed it.

I’m at a loss to explain why she never mentioned you. Why on earth would she have kept your friendship a secret?

Did Shelly ever say anything?

Not until just now. Why would Shelly tell me about you?

Ask her sometime. He finished his beer. So you have ants?

He’d taken a sharp left. Katherine followed him around the corner. Lots, the kitchen looks like an ant farm I had way back when.

It’s a bad season for them. We’ve had a lot of rain, and it’s been warm. It was dusk when you got to the cabin, right?

Yes. How did you know?

Because that’s when they come out looking for food. They party from sundown to sunup, when it’s dark and cool.

What do I do about it? I can’t put my food away, the kitchen is infested.

We spray.

Do you have a can of Raid I can borrow?

Ryan smiled the same smile that had greeted her at the door. Ma’am, it’ll take more than a can of Raid to control those little critters. For some reason, it bothered her that Ryan had called her ma’am instead of Katherine—even if he was kidding.

Then what do you do up here? Nuke them?

Just about. Ben got sick of hearing Adelaide complain about the bugs, so he ordered her a professional sprayer. When I saw how well the damn thing worked, I got one, too.

Who’s Ben?

Ben Sutton. He owns the hardware store in Riverville. The two of us took care of Adelaide, looks like we’ll have to do the same for you. Ryan came over to the sofa, grabbed her hand and pulled her up. C’mon. Let’s go spray some ants.

You’re coming, too? If Mother has a sprayer, I’ll find it. I don’t want to bother you with this.

He gave her a wry grin. Have you opened the cabin yet?

I went inside, if that’s what you mean.

Did you turn on the lights?

No, I could see well enough. When I found the ants, I left to get help.

Come here. Ryan led her to the porch. She could hear the river and the tree frogs, but she couldn’t see past the patch of light from the porch. It’s dark out here.

Yes, it is. Katherine grinned. That must be why you and Mother got on so well, she also had a knack for stating the obvious.

Ryan smirked. You apparently inherited your mother’s wit. Then he crossed his arms over his chest. My dear Katherine, did you turn on the electricity? If it’s this dark outside, think how dark it must be inside. The water also has to be turned on.

"I have to turn on the electricity and the