Back to Madeline Island by Jay Gilbertson Read Free Book Online Page A

in it. Mom kept it for me in her cedar chest.”
    â€œI’ll take that,” I say to the waitress, snatching the check away. “My treat.”
    â€œThank you. What should I call you? I mean I don’t mean to—”
    â€œHow about Eve? You have a mom and Eve would be just fine.” Tears start up again and I just redid my face. Waterproof mascara is such a joke.
    We gather up our things and head out the door. I notice eyes peeking out from the kitchen. Outside, the afternoon air is crisp and feels so wonderful; after all, I’m with my daughter.
    â€œWhat in the world is that thing?”
    Of course, she’s pointing to the duck. “That, my dear Helen, is my mode of transportation. C’mon, let’s take her for a spin!”
    She tentatively follows me over. I step up the ladder and turn back to reach down for her arm. After thinking it over, she puts her hand in mine and clambers up.
    â€œIt’s like a bus,” she looks about. “But I can tell—hey—this is one of those amphibious vehicles used in the Wisconsin Dells for river tours. I rode on one of these years ago when my parents took us there for a summer vacation.”
    â€œWould you like a dry land tour of Bayfield?” I suggest as she sits down next to me. “Then a quick dip in the lake? I know you need to get back. Next time maybe you could come over to the island.”
    â€œI’d like that,” Helen states. “The ‘next time’ part, too,” she says softly.
    I look over toward her and my heart swells to bursting.

C HAPTER F OUR
    B ack at the cottage, I’m strolling along the shoreline after changing into warmer clothes; a walk to sort things out seems just the ticket. Since fall is sweeping its arm across the island, the air is crisp and chilly and refreshing, good for clearing the head. Pulling my sweater close, I bend down and scoop up a piece of green glass that was reflecting sunlight. Swishing it in the cool lake water, all the sand and goo slips away, revealing a bubble way inside. Since this isn’t the sea, I guess this would qualify as “lake glass.” I slip it into my pocket and walk on in the direction of the boys’ cottage.
    There’s a grove of birch trees between our places, and the leaves have turned a brilliant yellow. A gust of wind reaches skyward, tossing hundreds of them into the air above me. I smile—then frown, wondering if Helen, what Helen is thinking right about now. Am I a disappointment to her? I’m no princess. I sigh and chuckle, wiping another tear away. Where’d that come from? I couldn’t believe how I lost it at Greunke’s earlier; talk about an “emotional episode.”
    As I wade through the leaves, my boots make a crunching sound and it reminds me of corn flakes. Does she think like this? She’s so smart—slim, too. I look down at my chest and heave a sigh. Missed out on the big boobs, too. Good. They’re certainly hard on a girl’s shoulders. Bras, what an invention. At least she’s got a boyfriend; wonder if they’ll marry? Will I be invited? Probably not, I mean, her mom isn’t even sure if she wants to meet me, and really, who can blame her? The girl who gave away, I gasp, her girl. My imagination drives me crazy sometimes.
    Sighing some more—I think I have to, no, I know I have to figure out what to do about my dad and all. It’s the “all” part I’m having trouble with. After so many years, what will I say? I’ve tried my damnedest not to even think about him. Now, things are different and I’m different and Helen, well, she’s got the right to at least meet him. A red cardinal zooms in front of me and lands on a low-hanging branch. I halt in my crunching tracks and watch. He seems to be looking me over, his head turning from side to side, considering me. I’m so close I can see his heart beating fast as hell in his