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in the market. Only this time I’ll be spending my time tending my own investments.”
    “I’ll let you get back to your unpacking. I’ve got to meet someone for tennis. Can we get together tomorrow?”
    “How about dinner?”
    “Is this a date?” she asked in a playful tone.
    “Date—I don’t know how to date. Let’s just have dinner.”
    “You’re on,” she laughed. “Oh, almost forgot. Ray Elkins came by a few days ago. He was looking for my mother. He asked if I knew when you were going to get here. You won’t recognize your old friend.”
    “He was here this morning. He caught me sleeping in.”
    “Did you notice the ‘new’ Ray?”
    “I was surprised to see that he has stopped smoking.”
    “He’s working hard at developing a new image. Not only has he stopped smoking, he shaves daily, wears a tie most of the time, and sometimes his uniform is pressed. And he’s even getting his patrol car washed. All the things that he took pleasure in shedding when he left his college job and moved back up here.”
    “Why the sudden change?”
    “He’s got some real competition in the election this time. He wants me to be his media advisor for the campaign.” She looked at her watch. “I’m going to be late. I’ll tell you more about it when I see you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up. When should I come by?”
    “Is six okay?”
    “That will be wonderful. See you then.”
    Marc watched her go. He leaned back against an overstuffed couch and drank the last swallow of warm beer from the bottle. He liked the old summer house, the smell of the forest coming in through the open windows, the sound of the wind moving in the trees, the sound of the waves on the beach, the smell of sun tan oil on a pretty woman—the memory of an old summer feeling came back briefly.

8

    Lisa gave Marc a teasing smile. “Do you want me to drop you off in front of the restaurant?”
    “No, I think that I can hobble in from the parking lot. But I am thankful that you drove, good eyesight, solid reflexes and all. You kids have it all over us old guys. Doubt if we’d have made it otherwise.”
    “You’re just not used to being picked up for a date.” “I can’t imagine being on a date, picked-up or otherwise. And this isn’t a date,” grumbled Marc as he tried to mask his obvious enjoyment of their sparring.
    “If it isn’t a date, what is it?”
    “Two summer people—old family friends—from different generations going out to dinner.” He glanced at her quickly. “What would your mother say if she thought we were going out on a date?”
    “Well,” said Lisa. “First, she would tell me what a cute little boy you were. Then she would tell me to be careful with recently divorced men because they don’t know where they are for a year or two. And then she’d wish me good luck. She is a real romantic.”
    “Doesn’t sound like her.”
    “Doesn’t it?” Lisa looked across at him with a mischievous grin. “Well, she called this morning. That’s what she said when I told her we were going to dinner. She sends her love.” She reached for the door handle and paused. “Let’s walk a few minutes before we go in,” she said as she slid out of the car.
    “Should you put the top up?”
    “No, it’s not supposed to rain until late tonight.”
    They walked to the pier, and out on the breakwater, an armlike structure of huge, limestone boulders that reached into the lake to protect the harbor. They stood and looked out onto the lake. The sun was still high on the horizon; its path reflected in the waves. Its glare made them squint as they looked west to the Manitou Islands. Below the sun they could see the outlines of darkgray thunderheads moving across the water from the Wisconsin shore. They turned and looked toward the village. Boats jammed the harbor, every slip in the marina was filled, and several large boats were tied up in the deep channel along the sea wall.
    “I can’t believe how much this place has