Free Lost Lake by Sarah Addison Allen Page A

quickly on the wrought-iron bed and looked around, getting her bearings, remembering where she was. She stumbled into the living room of the cabin. She saw that Devin’s bedroom door was still closed, and a sudden, irrational fear gripped her that Devin might not be there. But she opened her door and saw her sleeping on her back, her limbs spread out like points of a star. Her glasses were perched on her bedside table as if watching her, as if lonely for her.
    Another knock at the front door. She went to it and unlocked it. Lisette was standing there in the morning light, holding a tray containing two plates covered with napkins, and a carafe of coffee.
    The scent of something salty and doughy hit her, and Kate’s mouth began to water. “Lisette,” Kate said, surprised. “What is this?”
    Lisette nodded to the inside of the cabin and Kate stepped back. Lisette walked in and set the tray on the scuffed round table near the kitchen corner. Kate watched her take the white napkins off the plates, revealing fruit tarts and biscuits and bacon.
    She pulled a prewritten note and an envelope from her apron pocket.
    The note read: I have a favor to ask. Will you go today to the Fresh Mart in town and purchase some groceries for me? Eby was supposed to take me, but she said she has inventory to do. The money and list are in the envelope. Simply give it to the girl at the front desk. She will gather the things for me. There are more guests than I anticipated and Eby mentioned that Bulahdeen is planning a party. I will make a beautiful cake.
    “Of course I’ll go,” Kate said. “I’ll be happy to.”
    Lisette wrote on the notepad around her neck: Thank you. The fruit tarts are for Devin. They look like bright little jewels. Like her.
    “She’ll love them. Thank you.”
    Lisette smiled and took the note from Kate, leaving her with the envelope. Then she walked out. Kate followed her and was about to close the door behind her, when she happened to look down to see a small curved bone on the top step of the stoop. Curious, she picked it up and held it up to the light. It was an old animal tooth of some sort, familiar in a way she didn’t immediately recognize.
    She took it inside and set it on the table as she sat down. She ran her hands through her short hair, then rubbed her face and looked at the lovely food on old mismatched floral plates.
    Kate picked up the carafe and poured some coffee into a cup. She added sugar and cream until it was the color of caramel. Her mom used to take her coffee like this. So sweet it could kiss you, she used to say. As crazy as her mother had been, there were times after Kate’s father died that she had seemed almost normal. When they could afford it, Kate and her mother would go to the movies, sneaking in candy and drinks so they didn’t have to buy the overpriced things at the concession stand. They would watch television together every Friday night, with trays of dinner on their laps. Sometimes, her mother would braid Kate’s hair on weeknights, then put her in a nightcap and let her sleep on one of her sateen pillowcases, so her braids would still be smooth in the morning for school.
    Kate wished there had been more good times. Memories that would make going back easier.
    She sat back and considered not returning to Atlanta. Of maybe hiding here forever. Silly daydreams. Of course it would never happen. Eby was selling the place. And Kate had to face the fact that the reason she’d agreed to live with her mother-in-law, Cricket—even though Matt wouldn’t have wanted it, even though Cricket’s idea of parenting didn’t jibe with her own—was because she was fundamentally scared. She had plenty of money now, from the sale of her house and Matt’s shop. She could do anything she wanted. She could move anywhere. But she’d never been on her own. She’d lived with her mother, then Matt. When Matt died, she’d discovered a void in her life she hadn’t known was there. She missed