“Oh?” I asked. “Tell me all about it.”
Dad leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “Do you remember when I used to take you all to the lake?”
The lake…yes, I remembered the summer days spent at Moose Lake. Hot days, icy cold water, and a tire swing with a rope as old as the trees themselves. Dad hadn’t forgotten everything, then. “I do remember,” I murmured.
“Since Sadie needs some time to think, why don’t we go there?” he continued. “We can all relax a bit and talk about things objectively.”
I resisted the urge to point out that it might be best if we stayed in the Otherworld. Sadie, and possibly the rest of us, needed to spend some serious time groveling at Oriana’s golden feet or risk being labeled traitors.
But we’d need Micah to lead those “negotiations.” And Micah was beyond exhaustion—as a good wife, I needed to let him rest. And I did miss those summer days spent at Moose Lake—some of my best memories were of those lazy afternoons with my family. Really, what harm could a few hours of relaxation cause?
“I’ll tell Shep where we’re going in case Micah wakes up before we get back,” I said. Dad sighed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I opened my mouth to insist that yes, letting my husband know I’d be in a different realm for a while would definitely be a good idea, but he pushed on. “Sara… I know we aren’t doing the best job of getting along, Micah and I. I don’t want to provoke him, and he might see this trip as…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
“As what?” I urged. Max and Sadie looked at each other, unsure.
He shrugged. “As a way of keeping you away from him,” he finished. “Convincing you to help me in the Mundane realm instead of listening to him. You know I would never make you do anything you didn’t want to do, Sara, but I don’t think he understands. We’re family. You’re my daughter. You can make your own choices.”
Max nodded. “Agreed. Don’t get me wrong, I like Micah. But he doesn’t control you.”
I turned to Sadie, and the expression on her face was one of complete trust, not just in me, but in Max and Dad, too. They were right. Micah would probably think the worst, and I’d made my decision to stand by my dad’s plans whether Micah approved or not. We were just going to the lake to help Sadie, and maybe experience some much-needed family bonding with our recently returned father. We’d be back before he realized we were gone.
“All right,” I said, smiling at the thought of us and dad at the lake again like old times. “When do we leave?”
Even though I hadn’t set foot on its shores for years, Moose Lake was exactly as I remembered. The forest crowded close to the lake’s edge while sunlight sparkled across the water, reflecting onto the surrounding trees like little dancing pixies. The battered picnic table that had once occupied the small beach was gone, but the fire pit and the listing dock were the same as ever. A lone tire still hung from a frayed rope, dangling far enough over the water that Mom had forbidden us from using it, and shrieked like a banshee whenever we managed to sneak in a few swings.
Once Dad and Max had settled themselves on the dock with Sadie and me sitting on the shore, we began reminiscing about the times we’d spent at the lake before the war had shattered our lives. After a few minutes, it was evident that Dad’s memory was just as battered as the props.
“So tell me about your favorite lake memories,” Dad said, taking a seat beside Max. Max had removed his shoes and socks and was dangling his feet in the water. “Was it swimming? I bet you all loved the water.”
“Nah,” Max replied. “Mom’s fried chicken was, without a doubt, the best part of any and every family outing.”
Dad laughed a bit nervously, then he continued. “But you must have enjoyed being out of doors here.”
“We were always out of doors,” Sadie said from her seat on the shore as she absently yanked up stones and other debris. “In the yard, the woods, whatever. But Mom always needed a reason to cook, and a day trip was her favorite excuse. And the only meal she was any good at was fried chicken and potatoes.”
We laughed, only to be blanketed in an uneasy silence. After Dad and I explained his memory problems to her, she told us she needed to be alone and headed straight for the makeshift brugh. Dad grudgingly said we should let her be, and I agreed, but it still hurt that she wasn’t with us.
“Remember the time she made Beef Wellington?” I asked, hoping to lighten the dour mood. Dad blinked, signifying that that was yet another sacrificed memory, but Max and Sadie both wrinkled their noses.