For the sake of the company Jeff often had to drive around in the general area, and when he did he kept his eyes open. One day in the summer he had to see an elderly man named Wilt Aldrich about the replacement of a fuel oil tank. Aldrich lived on a small lake about halfway to Lawrence, anonymously named “Blue Lake;” he figured that there must be hundreds of them by that name in the country. Jeff’s first impression of Blue Lake was that it was a pretty little lake, only forty acres or so in size, and only had houses on one side of it. There were woods and a farm field on the far side, so it seemed less crowded than other lakes in the area; even on a summer afternoon it didn’t seem to be very busy.

As Jeff found Aldrich’s house, he happened to notice a “For Sale” sign on the house next door. He didn’t pay much attention; houses located on lakes tended to be pretty expensive, and since they were often used only as summer places it wasn’t uncommon for them to have even less insulation than The Icebox. Still, the idea of living on a lake seemed intriguing, if a little out of their price range.

Wilt proved to be a talker, and a pleasant guy to talk to at that; Jeff didn’t have much to do, so he was willing to listen. Finally, at a lull in the conversation, Jeff thought to mention the house for sale next door, and wondered how much was being asked for it. Wilt named a figure that was within Jeff and Eunice’s price range – just within it, but a figure they could live with. Needless to say, Jeff’s attention perked up. “I suppose it’s like most lake homes, without much insulation,” he commented.

“It was until a few years ago,” Wilt told him. “But George Chambers, who bought it a few years ago for a retirement home, just about froze his butt the first winter he lived there. He had a lot of it redone and walls filled with blown-in insulation in the process, along with a lot of other things. He said it only cost him about a third as much to heat the next winter. He really liked it here. He was a fisherman; he’d be out on the lake in his rowboat when the ice was out, and in a fish shanty when the ice got hard enough.”

“I take it that the house is pretty nice on the inside,” Jeff asked.

“Pretty nice. Two large bedrooms, a full bath and a half bath, a pretty big living room, a porch with a nice view of the lake, and a two-car garage. There’s even a little guest cottage on the back of the lot.”

“The price seems low. You have any idea why?”

“Mostly because George came down with cancer, and nobody in his family seems to want it. It’s been sitting empty for a while so they can make up their minds. They just decided they wanted to get rid of it, and I guess the lawyers finally got to the point where they can do it. I’ve been kind of looking after the place since he had to go to the hospital.”

“That’s interesting,” Jeff said. “I’m thinking I might have to look into it.”

Jeff checked the mileage on the Rambler’s odometer carefully on the way back to Wychbold: it was eleven miles, and he estimated it would be about seventeen to Amherst. It was a bit longer than he’d considered optimal, but well within reason, especially considering that he knew he was going to be working in Amherst sooner or later, but would most likely eventually be back in Wychbold. When he got back to his office, the first thing he did was call the realtor who had the house listed, and then he called Eunice.

Within hours he and Eunice were going through the house with a great deal of interest. It was a lot more house than they’d figured on, but it seemed to be the kind of place where they could live indefinitely. They figured it was a little smaller house than they would want if they had a large family, but there was an obvious way to do an addition. It didn’t take a lot of discussion; they made an offer on the place before they left the property.

It took months for the deal to be completed, partly due to dissention in the Chambers family, but partly due to difficulty getting a mortgage settled. In the end, the fact that Eunice was an employee of the bank was part of what it took to get the deal made. Because of needing new furniture and other things, they talked it over and decided Eunice would continue to work for a while so they would be able to handle the extra expenses.

After they found the house they just didn’t have the opportunity to get away for a while. Finally, one weekend they decided to just take off from the waiting for everything to get settled, so got out the Triumph and made a fast trip up to Donna’s place, at least partly to pass along the news about the house. They didn’t meet Frank on that trip – he was busy with some seminar, and they were never quite clear about it – but they got the impression that things were getting increasingly serious. Maybe it was for the best; it looked like things were finally starting to go Donna’s way.

It was well past the summer recreation season and getting into the cooler part of fall before they could make the move into the house on Blue Lake, but as the leaves were falling the deal was done. “This is going to make a wonderful home,” Eunice said as they worked at moving things in and getting them arranged. “I think we’re going to be happy here.”

“I think we are too,” he agreed. “It ought to make a nice home for us for a long time to come.”

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

It wasn’t all that warm out in the guest cottage; Eric had set the thermostat rather low the day before just to get some of the chill out of the place. Now he brought it up to a more normal temperature and set to work.

In the two years he’d lived in the house he’d brought a major portion of his things in from the guest cottage with him, but there were still quite a few things left, most of them things it seemed unlikely he’d ever need again. Over his rather itinerant lifetime, Eric had learned not to collect too many things, since they’d need to be moved soon; he’d also learned to throw away things he didn’t think were likely to be needed anytime soon. Other than a few photos and a brief journal, for example, nothing was left of his years as a climber – nothing but the memories, that is; he had plenty of those.

Once again, the thought of writing some memoirs came to mind. It still seemed unlikely that anyone would want to read them, but with Jeff gone his life didn’t look like it would be as busy as it had been the last couple of years. It might be something he could do to pass the time, he thought; while he’d enjoyed watching a lot of old movies with Jeff and Eunice, he’d about had his fill of them, now.

There were, however, a few items of camping and canoeing gear left, most of them stuck under the bed, including his favorite Lightning brand canoe paddle. He’d had it for over ten years but really hadn’t used it much; for much of his canoeing career he’d used relatively cheap and heavy wooden ones. As he got older he began to appreciate the lightness and the quality of the carbon-fiber wondersticks, so he’d bought this one. While he and Gary hadn’t done any longer trips in years, up until Jeff had his stroke they’d sometimes get together for a day trip just for the sake of getting out and remembering the good old days.

Looking at the paddle and the canoeing gear reminded him of both his mental and physical notes to call Gary. Probably it would be best to do it now while he was thinking about it. He pulled out the cell phone and dialed the number from memory.

Gary answered the phone with the line he’d used as long as Eric had known him, “Hey, it’s me. What’s up?”

“It’s Eric. I thought I’d better call you and tell you that Jeff died yesterday. The funeral is Friday at two at Stiverson’s in Wychbold.”

“God, I’m sorry to hear that,” Gary said, his normal light manner taking on a degree of seriousness. “You and he were real good buddies, weren’t you?”

“For a lot longer than I’ve known you, and that’s been longer than I sometimes want to think about,” Eric told him.

“I know you’ve put a lot of time and effort into taking care of him. How’s Eunice getting along?”

“Pretty good, actually. She’s sorry to see him gone, but glad that the ordeal is over with, too. We did our best to keep him comfortable and happy, but he always seemed frustrated with it, and I can’t blame him one damn bit.” He decided to tell Gary – an old friend who was probably his second best male friend over the years, albeit a distant second compared to Jeff – a truth he’d kept to himself around Jeff and Eunice. “What scares the hell out of me, Gary, is that I’m actually a little older than Jeff was. I mean, it’s only a few months, but still, it was just the luck of the draw, I guess. I mean, it could just as well have been me, rather than him.”

“Hey, I know what you’re saying, Eric. There’s a gal who tries to keep up on the kids in my old high school class. I was talking with her, oh hell, not recently, I’d guess in the past year or so, and she told me we’d outlived about half the class. You get to be our ages, Eric, that shit is going to happen.”

“I like to think I’ve gotten to the point where I can be comfortable with the idea that if it happens, it happens,” Eric told him. “I mean, not that I’m looking forward to it, or anything, but it still seems like the best days are behind me. I was just sitting here looking at that Lightning paddle you talked me into buying, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m going to get to use it very much again. I don’t think I’ve touched it since Jeff had his stroke.”

“I know you’ve had other things to do, but maybe we can get out and get it wet sometime after the weather warms up. Maybe something easy, like Mottville to Bristol, where we can just drift along and watch the banks go by.”

“I could be talked into it,” Eric agreed, and decided to quit beating around the bush. “Last night I was thinking about what you were saying a while back, doing a part of the Albany next summer. I was wondering what happened with that.”

“Hey, I wish I knew what to tell you, old buddy. It has a serious case of the on again-off agains. I don’t know if it’s going to come off or what. First it was working it out to get everybody together at the same place and the same time, but Jake Hamblin, he’s my sister’s grandson, decided he can’t go at all. So now it’s down to Mike, my oldest great-grandson and me. Hell, he’s just sixteen, and he’s green as grass, so there’s no way the two of us are going by ourselves. I don’t suppose you’re interested, now.”

“I might be,” Eric admitted. “I mean, now that Jeff is gone I don’t have that holding me back. But I don’t want to commit myself just yet. Eunice is handling this pretty well, but it remains to be seen what’s going to happen after the funeral. Pretty simply, if she wants me to stick around, I will. If she doesn’t have any problem with me taking off for a fairly short trip, two, maybe three weeks at the most, well then I might be interested. I can’t tell just yet and may not be able to for a while.”

“Hey, that’s something. Of course, if you decide you want to go that still leaves us with finding a fourth, and I don’t think it ought to be another old fart like we’ve gotten to be. It doesn’t have to be a green kid, maybe someone who’s been around the block a few times. The thing is I’d like to at least break Mike into the idea, get him interested in something other than video games, you know? It’d be nice to have someone to carry on.”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t have very many ideas for names off the top of my head,” Eric told him. “I agree, the fourth really shouldn’t be another old fart like we are, but unfortunately most of the people who come to mind are either old farts, or dead.”

“I’ve been having the same problem,” Gary said. “Maybe one of these days I’ll call Mike up and see if he might have some buddy who might be interested in going. It’s not impossible. He’s in scouts, gonna be an Eagle here pretty soon, and they’re a little more outdoor-oriented than the usual video-gamers these days. He might be able to come up with someone, even if he has to ask around.”

“It might work. I mean, who’s to say? But why don’t you hold off until after the funeral? I don’t want to drop the idea on Eunice until then anyway, and I think maybe I’d better see how she’s getting along after things die down before I bring it up to her.”

“Hey, I guess all I can say is let me know, maybe in a week or two, but I’ll start thinking about it a little again. Why don’t you get your thinking cap on? Maybe you might be able to come up with a fourth. Do you think Jeff might have any grandkids who might be interested?”

“It’s not impossible, but they’re all scattered from hell to breakfast, and none of them are from around here. From what little I know about them they’re not very interested in outdoor stuff. But I’ll see if I can’t plant a few seeds.”

“Whatever happens, let’s keep in touch on this,” Gary replied. “It would be nice to get out on a real trip one last time, even though this will be pretty tame compared to what we used to do.”

“That’s kind of what I’m thinking. God, do you remember the time we did the Coppermine? I could have about shot you for coming up with that idea. We just about killed ourselves with all the portaging on that run . . . ”

The conversation drifted off into stories of trips gone by, and went on for ten or fifteen minutes. Finally Eric realized he had to get some work done, and told Gary they’d have to get together some day to do some serious reminiscing.

“Hey,” Gary said. “That’s about all we’ve got any more so we might as well do it. I guess I’ll see you Friday at the funeral. You take care, now.”

In the warmth of the house, the ringing of the phone brought Eunice back from her trip down memory lane. The caller proved to be Donna, who said she would be coming to the funeral, and, like most of the others, arriving on Thursday; she said she would be flying in to Ft. Wayne.

“That’s interesting,” Eunice told her. “That must be the same flight my grandson Bradley is going to be on.”

“I guess I’ve never met him, but then, there wouldn’t be any reason to. That’s one of Mark’s kids, right?”

“His oldest, if you don’t count Allison,” Eunice told her. She didn’t need to tell the whole story since she was sure Donna knew it – the two of them had traded phone calls and letters sporadically for decades. Back when Mark had been nineteen, he’d been fooling around with a seventeen-year-old local girl by the name of Barbara Nolan, and one thing led to another. Barbara wound up pregnant, and Mark, though he had his doubts, decided to do what he’d felt was the right thing. Allison had been born about four months after the rather brief and low-key wedding.

The marriage just didn’t last – Barbara liked to run around too much, and that was what had gotten her into trouble in the first place. Within a year, Barbara found someone who she decided she liked better and had asked for a divorce and custody of the baby. By then Mark was pretty disgusted with his wife and wasn’t in a mood to argue. Since he was still a college student, he didn’t get hit too badly with child support, and as soon as the divorce was final Barbara and Allison were gone.

Mark kept up the child support payments, even though he had little idea where the two had gone, except that he knew that she was no longer with the guy who Barbara had left him for. Either she was well out of touch or not too bright in the first place – and Eunice figured she qualified on both counts – the child support payments were not odious.

When Allison turned eighteen, Mark quit writing the checks, and that had been that. These days he had no idea of what had happened to Barbara or Allison, and only cared mildly. Several years before, he’d heard from a friend of a friend that Barbara had moved to Los Angeles, and that Allison had gotten married pretty young and had a child of her own. The rumor didn’t carry enough details to give things like names, and he’d heard nothing since. The whole episode, right down to a possible first great-grandchild had been more than a little frustrating to Eunice, but there didn’t seem to be much she could do about it but wish she knew more.

Barbara had done a pretty good job of putting Mark off women in general. For several years, when the topic came up he’d stated that once was enough, and that he’d learned his lesson. Then, after he’d moved to being assistant manager of a General Hardware Retailers home improvement center in Jackson, Tennessee he’d met Lori. She was a divorcee as well – her husband had been the one doing the running around in her case, but she was lucky enough to have caught him before they’d had children. The shared experiences – and the shared desire to not get burned again – eventually drew the two of them together.

Lori had proved to be about as good for Mark as Barbara had been bad. They’d developed a very close marriage, one they were proud of, and had produced two more grandchildren for Jeff and Eunice. While the children were still small Mark had been transferred to managing the General Home Improvement Center in Panama City, Florida. They had a nice house, and never saw snow, which Mark really appreciated – he’d never been a person to care much for winter, even when he’d been living in Michigan.

Both the grandchildren – Bradley and Shelby – were in college now; Bradley was a senior at the University of Tampa and Shelby a freshman at Pensacola State. From what Eunice had heard Bradley was engaged, but she couldn’t remember the girl’s name and had never met her. Maybe she’d be able to find out more about that in the next few days.

“That really was a shame about Barbara and Allison,” Donna said, familiar with the facts. “But it’s good to know that Mark moved past her.”

“Yes, we were quite relieved, although it took a while,” Eunice agreed. “But it worked out in the end.” She wanted to change the subject – it was an uncomfortable one around the household – so said, “So what have you been up to?”

“Not much of anything, to tell the truth,” Donna told her. “There are a couple of girls I get together with for coffee almost every morning, but we spend most of the time discussing our cats and our late husbands. My life has really gotten quiet since Trent died, but I guess I’ve finally adjusted to it. How are you getting along?”

“Not bad so far, but having Eric here has been an absolute blessing. He put so much time into taking care of Jeff that it’s unbelievable. I literally don’t know how I’d have gotten through the last two years without him.”

“You were lucky to have him around,” Donna said. “You know, the relationship you and Jeff had with him always seemed a little strange to me, but I guess it worked out. In fact, I don’t think Eric could have managed the kind of life he’s led without the two of you being involved.”

“That’s very true. And the funny thing is that it just happened. There was never any planning or anything like that. In fact, up to just a few years ago Eric was gone at least as much as he was here, out canoeing some river, climbing some mountain, exploring some glacier, or doing something that made me worry about him. But like all of us, he’s been slowing down more than a little, and the last few years before Jeff had his stroke Eric had cut way back on his traveling and adventuring. It didn’t seem quite like him, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I do. But I never was able to figure Eric out. Back when we were in college he was about the most maddening guy I could imagine. For a while there I thought we had something going, but when he took off for that first summer it was like he’d forgotten about me. The heck of it was that I missed him and I worried about him. I mean, it was like why would he do something like that to me?”

“I think I’ve come to understand that none of us knew him very well back then,” Eunice replied thoughtfully. “He always seemed to have his own list of things to do, and the things that were important to us weren’t quite as important to him.”

“I think I finally came to understand that, as hard as it was,” Donna agreed. “It took me an awful long time. I mean, it was years before I was finally able to admit that neither of us was planning on going to the same place or was likely to ever want to. I sure made a lot of mistakes getting to that point.”

“Yes, you did. And some of them were painful for Jeff and me to watch. But we couldn’t have told you the right thing to do, even if we’d known what it was.”

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