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rocks.”
    Despite his size, he can move pretty lively. I set the handle and gave the rope a short sharp pull. The sweet sound of a bubbling propeller started below. Putting it into reverse, I slowly manoeuvred us away from the rocks. We turned into the wind like a bathtub full of water. Once I had the nose pointed directly into the force, I raised the horsepower and we sliced through the black, foam-capped waves towards home.
    Tim was sitting hunched and forlorn on the bow seat facing me, one huge arm steadying the little canoe, which was shuddering and heaving as it tried to fly. His hat sagged around his head, the rain sheeting off the brim into his beard. I couldn’t believe the dumb jerk had headed out in this storm to rescue me. He’d never driven a boat before.
    â€œThanks,” I shouted.
    â€œWha’?” he asked, lifting his head. I think I was as surprised as he was.
    â€œI said, thanks. Thanks for coming. I was getting kinda scared out there.”
    He grinned and slammed the Beetle’s bottom. And for some reason, his toothy grin didn’t bother me at all.

Chapter Ten
    THE next morning I lay contentedly in bed listening to the thin chinking of a yellow warbler in the small birch beside my window. Then it dawned on me. What the heck was I feeling so contented about? I pushed my face farther into the soft pillow and sighed. If I got out of bed, I’d have to face my family.
    I rolled over on my back. Dinner had been pretty bad again and to make matters worse, Alex Bird had been there taking the whole thing in.
    He and Evan had spent the afternoon catching pickerel way off in the southwest corner of the lake when the storm hit. They’d found shelter with a young couple who’d set up a permanent home and planned to run a trapline in the winter. Lucky ducks. Imagine being able to live on Rain Lake year round.
    They’d all played cards until the rain let up around six, and the two guys showed up just in time to polish off the chicken and potato salad and to get in on Act II of the Honeymooners Go to Camp. Up to then, the rest of us had been making small talk. Very small. But at least Tim hadn’t mentioned my fall in the drink, or that, when he’d rescued me, I didn’t have a life jacket on. I think he didn’t mention anything because Mother wasn’t talking to him. Or to Gran. Or to me. She had just cut another slice of pie for Erica and was silently picking at her own when Evan decided the party needed livening up.
    â€œSo, when are you going home, Mother?” he asked, all innocence and light. “Did Alex give you the telegram? The one from your office? That’s why he came over today instead of tomorrow.”
    Mother looked down at her plate and carefully cut her raisin pie into small squares. “Yes, he did, thank you. And I wasn’t aware that I’d given you the right to read my mail.”
    He shrugged. “I just assumed it was important or they wouldn’t have sent one. So, when are you going back?” He looked at Tim and back at her, like a cat teasing two mice.
    â€œNo one’s going anywhere for a while, Evan,” said Tim. “And if and when your mother decides to go, we’ll let you know.” He looked at Mother. “You didn’t mention a telegram.”
    Ever seen anyone talk through clenched teeth and smile at the same time? It looked like it hurt.
    Mother examined her pie. “It wasn’t important. I’ll go over to the lodge tomorrow and give them a call.”
    Erica spoke up through a mouthful of raisins. “You
can’t
go home, Mama. We just got here. Can she, Tim? We’re going to hike over to Cross Lake on the portage. Right, Tim?”
    Mother looked at her fork. “I didn’t say I was going anywhere.” She placed the fork squarely in the middle of cut-up pie. “And if I go, it will be my decision. I have a job that demands my time. I can’t just