Chapter 9: Winter Terms
By winter Rebecca had stopped calling every few days. The silence was different from the old nine years. This one had rules in it. I sent the grandchildren birthday cards with my address and no lectures. Cooper replied. Madison sent a photo of a school project that may or may not have needed Lake Marlin light. I thanked her for the picture.
Trent’s name disappeared from my inbox. Caroline mentioned, once, that she had heard through professional channels that he had described the situation as “complicated family property issues.” Complicated was a word people used when simple boundaries inconvenienced them. I let him keep the word. I kept the keys.
On Christmas I cooked enough for one and ate at the table facing the water. In the afternoon Cooper arrived with a plate from Rebecca’s kitchen and an awkward explanation that his mother had not wanted him to come empty-handed. I let him in. We walked the frozen edge of the dock and did not discuss the master bedroom or the boathouse loft. When he left, he said he would call before the next visit. He did.
