“That’s the idea.”
She walks out onto the back deck.
The boards creak softly under her steps.
I follow a moment later.
She rests her arms on the railing and looks out across the water.
“This might be the quietest place I’ve ever been.”
“That’s why I like it.”
She glances over her shoulder.
“You grew up here?”
“Mostly.”
“My dad built the place.”
Her expression softens.
“It’s special to you.”
“Yeah.”
The breeze moves across the lake again.
Wren turns back toward the water.
Then she smiles slightly.
“You know what the weirdest part is?”
“What?”
“I’m not thinking about the system.”
“That’s progress.”
“I’m thinking about coffee on that porch tomorrow morning.”
“That’s also progress.”
She laughs quietly.
“You might actually succeed at teaching me how to relax.”
“Give it time.”
A small fishing boat moves slowly across the water in the distance.
The peaceful rhythm of the place begins working its way into both of us.
Then Wren says—
“I’m glad you brought me here.”
