Page 48 of Patio Lanterns

Rick smiled to himself. Yeah, she does.

“You do?” Lark asked Robin. “Doing what? With whom?”

“Things to do, people to see. I’m very busy planning mom’s celebration of life, you know.”

“Well, whatever it is, surely you can change your plans to go out with Aidan tonight. Don’t be rude.”

“Hey,” Aidan interrupted. “Honestly, it’s no big deal Robbie, we’ll do it some other time.”

Robin nodded. “Raincheck for sure.”

The screen door opened and closed, then Dove entered the chat. Judging by her athletic wear and the beads of sweat on her rosy face and neck, she’d been out for a run.

“You’ll never believe what I just heard,” she said, digging out her earbuds. “You remember the Koskies a couple of streets over?”

“Scene of some epic parties back in the day,” Aidan said with a grin.

“I bumped into Debbie Koskie. She told me her folks are thinking of selling their place.”

“Wow, really?” Lark said. “They’ve been coming to Lake Whippoorwill as long as we have. Their cottage is probably close to the same age as ours too.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dove said. “Debbie seemed kind of in shock about the whole thing. It came up really suddenly.”

“Maybe it’s an unexpected health matter, like Mom?” Robin asked.

Dove shook her head. “She told me her parents weren’t even entertaining the idea of selling until some buyer offered them eighteen and a half percent over current market value,” she said. “Given the economy, that offer is just too tempting to turn down.”

Aidan whistled. “Shit, eighteen and a half percent over market value? For that, I’d sell my place and give away the naming rights of my firstborn.”

Lark agreed. “I don’t blame them. You’ve got to take what you can these days. The market hasn’t rebounded, and people aren’t getting as much as they used to.” She said. “The Koskies are right. Even if they weren’t looking to sell, that amount is too good to pass up.”

“Too good?” Robin tilted her head. “I thought you were on Team ‘I Won’t Sell Because I Have to Pass This Cottage on to My Grandkids.’”

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t examine every option available,” Lark told her. “Trust me, if we got an offer like that, we might be having an entirely different discussion.”

“Hearing about the Koskies kind of makes you think,” Dove said sadly. “If people keep leaving, what’s going to become of Lake Whippoorwill? It’s going to be the end of an era. All those years of memories will be wiped out.”

“Some things you can’t ever put a price tag on,” Rick assured them. “Just like there are things that cannot be bought, no matter the price someone’s willing to pay.”

16

Robin

The Dawn Cherries' group chat, A Bag of Dicks, had gone flaccid since they parted ways. The last message showing was from their bass player begging someone, anyone, for a ride to the Orillia gig. That was two and a half weeks ago.

Robin found it very hard to believe that everyone in the band was still too pissed at Parker to even text one another. She decided to make the first move and break the radio silence.

Hey, Dicks

Anyone out there?

Surely, once they came around and started talking again, the Cherries would pull their heads out of their asses and refocus on scheduling a few late summer shows. They should at least be able to land a mainstage at a fall fair. Nothing goes better with tractor pulls and giant vegetable growing competitions than angry women with electric guitars.

Of course, there was also a chance that it was really, truly the end of the line for the Cherries. Robin didn't have a Plan B, C, or D to fall back on if they were kaput.

No reason to panic just yet, she reasoned. Worst case scenario, she and Mutt could lay low at the Blue Canoe and coast for a bit while she figured out their next move. Until Parker said otherwise, Robin was content to be a woman of leisure, enjoying the summer sun, cold beers, the breeze off the lake—and time with Rick.

BRE71 texted that he’d made reservations for them at the Firefly Inn. As thrilling as it was to imagine an evening of candlelight and long, lingering gazes, the fact that Rick chose the Firefly Inn—where the Pelletiers had celebrated their wedding anniversary every summer, but for reasons that did not become apparent to Robin until she was older, went alone—was simply beyond.

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