Page 63 of Dream Lake

“Don’t do it, Zoë.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re thinking about doing it, and you’re trying to find all kinds of ways to justify it because of your attraction to emotionally unavailable men.”

“The other day,” Zoë retorted, “you told me that you were emotionally unavailable to men. Does that mean no one should have sex with you?”

“No, it means only a certain kind of man should have sex with me, or he’s going to get burned. And if he does, it’s his own fault.”

“Fine. If I get burned as a result of becoming involved with Alex, or anyone, I won’t ask for your sympathy.” Zoë’s irritable tone caused Justine to glance at her in surprise.

“Hey, I’m on your side.”

“I know that. And I’m even pretty sure you’re right. But it still feels like I’m being bossed around.”

Justine pulled shoes out of the box. “Doesn’t matter anyway,” she said after a moment. “You’re going to be so busy with Emma, you won’t have the time to fool around with Alex.”

Later Duane and Alex carried furniture and mattresses into the house and set various pieces where Zoë indicated. The afternoon sun was ripening by the time the heavy work had been completed. Now it was just a matter of putting an array of smaller items in their places, which Zoë would finish tomorrow.

Alex carried Zoë’s old dressmaker’s mannequin into the smaller bedroom, which hadn’t yet been painted. He unwrapped the mover’s blanket from around the mannequin. It was richly covered in a treasure garden of brooches made with crystals, gemstones, enamel, or painted lacquer. “Where do you want this?” he asked Zoë.

“That corner is fine.” Zoë had left most of her brooch collection pinned to the mannequin, having only removed about a half dozen of the more valuable ones. Taking them out of her bag, she went to pin them back onto the mannequin.

“I’m sorry this room isn’t finished yet.” He frowned as he glanced around the small space. The carpeting was new, but the room still had to be repainted and the old light fixtures replaced. Although a new wall-to-wall closet had been framed, it hadn’t been drywalled or fitted with doors.

“You’ve done an amazing amount of work,” Zoë replied. “And the most important things were the kitchen and my grandmother’s room, which are beautiful.” Scrutinizing the mannequin, Zoë pinned a brooch on an empty space. “I’m either going to have to stop collecting,” she said, “or get another mannequin.”

Alex stood next to her, looking over the array of jewelry. “When did you start the collection?”

“When I was sixteen. My grandmother gave this to me for my birthday.” She showed him a flower covered with crystals. “And I bought this to celebrate graduating from culinary school.” She held up a red enameled lobster with gold antennae before fastening it to the mannequin’s chest.

“What about that one?” Alex asked, looking at an antique gold-framed ivory cameo.

“A wedding present from Chris.” She smiled. “He told me if you own a cameo for seven years, it becomes a lucky charm.”

“You’re due for some luck,” he said.

“I think people don’t always know when lucky things are happening to them. Or they only realize it later. Like the divorce from Chris. It turned out to be the best thing for both of us.”

“That wasn’t luck. That was bailing out after a mistake.”

She made a little face at him. “I try not to think of the marriage as a mistake, but more like something fate put in my path. To help me learn, and grow.”

“What did you learn?” he asked with a mocking gleam in his eyes.

“How to be better at forgiving. How to be more independent.”

“Don’t you think you could have learned that stuff without some higher power putting you through a divorce?”

“You probably don’t even believe in a higher power.”

He shrugged. “Existentialism has always made a lot more sense to me than fate, God, or chance.”

“I’ve never been sure exactly what existentialism is,” Zoë confessed.

“It’s knowing the world is crazy and meaningless, so you have to find your own truth. Your own meaning. Because nothing else makes sense. No higher power, just human beings stumbling through life.”

“But… does having no faith make you happier?” she asked doubtfully.

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