The hottest part of the day: even high up our mountain, under summer’s blast, the long meadowed slopes down to the lake are scorching to a brown patchwork that will need the cooling rains of Autumn to heal.
It’s way too hot for physical work. Catching some shade on the terrace, a bottle of beer apiece, companionable silence with James is a restful way to pass an hour or so.
wayUntil something catches my eye.
I watch for a few moments, take a swig of beer, and roll it around my mouth. As I swallow, “You know when you see women with their heads together and your blood runs cold?”
“Mmmm?” James replies casually, then jolts to attention. “What?”
I nod across the garden: Beth and Mitch seated at opposite sides of the picnic bench. Heads close enough almost touching, they talk animatedly in
