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House wasn’t an interesting structure, but because it certainly wasn’t the most beautiful dwelling in Blue Lake.
    “It’s very nice,” I said. “But it could use some updating.”
    “Couldn’t they all,” she said with a laugh. Her face was open and friendly. Penny ventured forward to pet one of the dogs, and he licked her entire face with one slurp of his tongue.
    “Gah,” she said in a tiny voice, and it made us all laugh.
    I stole a glance at my watch then. “It was nice meeting your whole family, Lane—what was your last name?”
    “It’s Waldrop. Lane Waldrop. I’m in the phone book. Maybe we could have coffee sometime. There aren’t a whole lot of young people in this town, so it’s nice to meet someone my own age. We could go to Willoughby’s over there, or to Blue Lake Coffee. They roast their own beans, and the coffee is amazing.”
    “That sounds nice! And I’m sure I’ll see you around. I plan to be in town often.”
    “Okay, then. Say bye-bye, Tommy.” The little boy waved, and then he buried his head in his mother’s shoulder. Penny waved, too, but she was looking at Heathcliff and Rochester, who were sniffing at the chocolate on her hands.
    “Leave her alone and be gentlemen. That’s not good for you,” I told the dogs, and pulled them away. I walked on after one final wave to the Waldrops. I hadn’t yet seen the lake up close, and I really wanted to. When Camilla had come in from outside, I glimpsed a stairway in her backyard that probably led down to the water. The rails, if I recalled correctly, had been red; surely I would recognize them if I walked down the beach and studied all of the stairways? And, I assumed, I’d see glimpses of her house, and Sam West’s, between the trees.
    Satisfied, I walked down the little cobbled alley and across a parking lot; I crossed a street called Lakeview and found myself on a small wooden dock that looked out onto the inlet that widened into Blue Lake. To my right, I could see the town curving around the shoreline. To my left was a sandy shore and the colorful bluff. And in front of me, the water undulated and gleamed. The multicolored sailboatsI had seen on YouTube dotted the harbor. The air smelled like rain, and Blue Lake glistened in cerulean splendor beneath gray clouds.
    “This is gorgeous, boys,” I said to the dogs. “How do you not walk here all the time?”
    We strolled to the end of the dock and found ourselves on the cool sand; on this we began our trek back to Graham House. We passed several stairways that did not look familiar. I kept my eyes on the lake, which, as it grew wider and more eternal, made me feel that my journey would never end. Walking in the sand was much harder work than walking on the wooden dock had been, and even the dogs were beginning to slow down. I thought I spotted Camilla’s red stairway in the distance, so the dogs and I picked up our pace. A man emerged from one of the stairways and appeared a few yards in front of me. It was the flannel shirt guy from Bick’s Hardware. He marched up to the lakeshore and a small wooden dock, where a white boat was moored. Sailboats dotted the shore as far as the eye could see, their sails a variety of colors, bright against the afternoon sun. He climbed aboard the white boat and went belowdecks, and he didn’t come out again.
    Then, in an instant, the rain came—not with hesitation or an introductory drizzle, but with a full-out, body drenching cloudburst. “Ahhhh!” I screamed, but it was drowned out by a clap of thunder so loud that my startle reflex knocked me right onto the sand. I got up again and pulled the now-willing dogs toward the stairs. They walked with their heads down, shrugging their bodies against the rain and trying to shake off the moisture as they moved. Every minute or so I got an extra blast of wet-dog-scented water.
    “No!” I yelled as we clambered up the stairs, but I waslaughing, too, because what else could I do when nature had so