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Story: The Lake Escape

Julia

An ominous, empty feeling had replaced the comfort and familiarity of the lake house, like a hole where a tooth had been extracted—something you obsessed over once it was gone.

Julia was grateful she had Nutmeg by her side.

The dog was her loving companion—a warm, reliable presence in her otherwise upside-down world.

Izzy had left by bus days ago and, through text messages, Julia learned she and her mother were doing well. Their reunion had been tearful but healing. She had told Julia about her hopes of starting a true crime podcast, which she would produce only with her mother’s blessing.

Julia sipped hot herbal tea from the screened-in porch, peering at the lake through David’s glass house.

A swath of moonlight illuminated a patch of water as smooth as an ice rink.

There was hardly a breeze. Sunset had been hours ago, yet the nighttime air carried the lingering remnants of the day’s humidity.

All signs of the season were on full display.

Yet it was a summer unlike any Julia had ever known.

For as long as Julia could remember, Lake Timmeny had been her safe place, a soothing balm for the soul. While she was facing many types of loss—property, friendships, maybe a marriage—there were gains as well—namely a future grandchild.

Taylor and Lucas decided to have the baby.

It was heartwarming when they made the announcement.

Taylor glowed with youthful optimism, slightly tinged with trepidation.

Naturally, she was nervous about the path ahead but felt certain she was making the right choice.

It was endearing—Lucas talked about baby names and the instruments his future child would play.

They were inexperienced, idealistic, and probably overly romantic.

But they were also in love and had the best of intentions—though Julia wasn’t sure how practical their future plans were.

They fantasized about becoming partners in parenting and music—her poetry combined with his songs.

Maybe they’ll have a hit that will bring a huge windfall. Or, more likely, they’ll wake up to the realities of raising a child. But who knows? It wasn’t her place to judge Taylor’s life choices. Her job was to guide and support.

Julia had made a slew of impractical decisions herself, and now she was looking to return to her passion for nonprofit work. She certainly wouldn’t steer Taylor away from what lit up her life, be it poetry or something else—not now, not after all they’d been through.

Still, there were far more questions than answers.

How would Taylor finish high school and be a new mom?

What about college? How would Lucas contribute to his young family’s financial future?

He was now taking college seriously and considering a career in music education.

Julia hoped this would offer him stability while he and Taylor pursued their songwriting passion.

Julia was pleased to see he could be a practical dreamer.

No matter what happened, Julia would support her daughter as only a mother could.

Speaking of mothers, Julia wished she could call her parents to unload her troubles, but they were older now, and she didn’t want to burden them—other than to share the exciting news about their great-grandchild. Other than that, she was on her own.

It would be easy to let all her losses define and overwhelm her, risking a descent into self-pity.

She inhaled the night air as crickets serenaded her from the darkness, their chorus blending with the croakers’ song.

Other than that, she listened long enough to realize that, for a brief moment, the sounds of nature had genuinely soothed her.

It was fleeting, but she noticed a brief absence of sadness.

What had brought about that rare moment of peace? It wasn’t a specific thought but rather the lack of one—her focus on Nutmeg, her surroundings, the feel of the cottony blanket on her lap, and the spicy taste of tea lingering on her lips. It provided her with a momentary respite from the pain.

She recalled Erika’s pledge to practice mindfulness. She and Rick would need all the help they could get.

Erika and Rick’s house stood silent and still, its darkened windows a reminder of all that had transpired.

Detective Baker had arrested Erika for the homicide of Susie Welch.

Rick had been charged with crimes in connection with the improper disposal of a body and evidence tampering.

Both were arraigned at the county courthouse and posted bail, where David had done the same.

And like David, neither wanted to stay at the lake now that their reputations were in tatters.

The media hounded them with a vengeance.

Lucas felt different about leaving. He needed space and time to process everything and asked if he could remain with Julia and her family for a few days until they headed home.

That was welcome news to all, especially Taylor.

One thing was certain, Lucas would be in for a roller-coaster ride—and not just because there was a baby on the way.

His entire identity, what he thought he knew of his family, had been completely upended.

Therapy was a must; thankfully, Lucas was open to the idea.

And Julia and Christian would support him as best they could.

Julia brought her attention back to her breath.

She knew the basics of meditation. She felt the air swim into her lungs, delivering life-giving oxygen.

Next she concentrated on her exhalation, slow and steady, like a gentle release of tension.

She did it again with the same degree of focus, continuing until she had counted fifteen breaths.

In that time, she felt her anxiety slowly ebb.

She was okay. For those breaths, at least, she was present, safe, and whole.

Julia now understood she didn’t need the lake house to achieve this calming effect.

She had what everyone else had, house or not: one day, one hour, or maybe just one minute.

That’s all anybody ever has—this moment, the here and now.

She had read somewhere that depression was rooted in the past and anxiety was nothing but a worry for the future.

That was good for Instagram, but Julia was done with social media.

The apps were deleted. She didn’t have the energy for public sharing anymore, and no longer cared about the false reinforcement it provided.

She had to focus on her daughter and her husband…

Christian .

Why had she given so much of herself away to him?

As she considered this, a single word came to mind: trust. It wasn’t about faith in another person.

No, this went deeper than that. Julia often pushed aside her instincts, she realized, to follow the lead of others.

At the root, she didn’t believe in herself enough, nor did she trust her inner guidance.

And with this sprig of insight came another, something she could trace back to childhood.

Her mind flashed again to the locked playroom at Erika’s house. Julia had taken Cormac’s account as gospel despite the gnawing feeling in her stomach. Raised voices. A door that was never stuck before suddenly wouldn’t open. A missing carpet.

After all these years, Julia finally started to listen to her intuition.

She revisited that day, realizing the thing still troubling her wasn’t another detail like the missing rug she’d forgotten, but rather the order of events she’d misremembered.

That one slight change—switching A with B , which event happened first and which was second—was profoundly significant.

She’d always believed the locked door made Erika burst into tears, but now she was sure Erika started crying when they heard the voices downstairs, and that was before she ever tried the door.

What voice would likely cause a small child to cry?

A missing mother’s, of course. That explained why Erika had called for her in the aftermath of the locked room incident. Julia now believed that Erika’s mother had returned for her daughter—and had left in a rolled-up carpet that served as a makeshift body bag.

Julia would call Erika later to share this new insight. Self-doubt might have made the old Julia distrust herself, but not anymore—she was ready to speak her truth.

This applied to Taylor as well. They were in for quite the ride together, and Taylor would need all the help she could get—and that included up-front honesty.

As a mother, Julia had constantly feared doing or saying the wrong thing, as if her daughter were a live ordnance that might explode in her hand.

She had allowed moments of their togetherness to be clouded with insecurities of not doing enough, not being enough, or not saying the right things.

But it wasn’t too late to change. That was the beauty of the breath.

Each one gently reminded her that she was still here, that she had another chance to make her inner world calmer, more centered.

She thought of Christian, who even after his relapse, opted for that one-day-at-a-time mantra rather than a lifetime of self-recrimination.

Despite all his mistakes, she appreciated the wisdom behind his intentions.

Her thoughts seemed to have summoned him, for Christian joined her on the porch with a can of diet soda.

“Beautiful night,” he said, taking the seat beside her.

Julia inhaled deeply. “Yes, it is,” she said.

He looked at her longingly. She took in his handsome face, the luminous yearning of his eyes, and felt love for this man who had deeply betrayed her. She had choices. She could question that feeling, doubt herself, or sink into it. Would this love come and go, like her breath?

“Taylor and I had a good long talk,” he said. “She’s obviously nervous, but she’s so strong and resilient—just like someone else I know.”

Again, his eyes bore into her, beckoning Julia to him, but she held back.

“Are we okay?” he asked. “Jules, I know I’ve screwed up royally—but I love you, I love us.

And now, with a baby on the way… well, I don’t want us to lose everything we’ve built together.

I’m pretty sure I can make this sale happen.

Our buyer is very interested in the business, and he has the experience in the fitness industry to turn it around. Maybe we could even—”

“Don’t say it,” Julia said, holding a hand up to stop him. “We’re not taking on a partner. I’m out, Christian. I’ve started my job search in earnest. My résumé is out there, and I’m already getting leads. Women on the Move wants to interview me next week.”

Christian didn’t know about the global nonprofit that worked to advance women’s economic empowerment and reduce gender-based violence around the globe, so Julia briefed him.

“VP of Global Programs. Sounds right up your alley. You’ll be amazing,” he said. “I hope you get it. They’d be lucky to have you. But what about us? Do we still have a future? Julia, I don’t want to divorce.”

Instead of panicking about making a decision, Julia returned to the breath.

With her eyes fixed on the stars spread out across a black canvas, she took a deep one, held it, and then let it out slowly.

This went on for a while as Christian waited patiently beside her.

Finally, she felt grounded enough to address him.

“I’ve read about something for situations like ours,” she told him. “It’s called a postnuptial agreement. Basically, it’s like a prenup for married people. It details exactly how we’ll divide the finances if we separate.”

Christian’s eyes filled with tears. “Please don’t say it, Jules. Give me a chance.”

“I am, Christian. It’s a postnuptial. I’m not filing for divorce. We’ll meet with a lawyer and draft one I’m comfortable with.” Oh, it felt so good to use her voice. Julia didn’t want to stop.

“What you did was a profound betrayal. This house was not yours to give away. I don’t care what your reasons were.

I don’t care how scared or confused you were.

You violated my trust in a way I can’t easily forgive.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to find my way back to where we were before, but I know this is the first step.

Step two is counseling, which we need to start right away. ”

Christian bowed his head, a man resigned to his fate. “But, Julia, is there a real chance for us? Or is all this just leading to…”

She cupped his hand. “There’s always a chance. I still love you,” she told him. “But we’re going to have to take it a day at a time, one moment at a time. You know that approach better than most.”

“I understand,” he said, unable to mask his disappointment.

They held hands like an old married couple, which technically they were.

Julia’s phone lit up on the table beside her chair. She looked; it was a message from Izzy, who wrote:

I got my mother’s permission to produce the podcast. I know you’re busy, but I hope you’ll be able to work on it with me. Something about Susie’s death has been bothering me, and I think I know what it is. Can we meet?

Julia was about to respond when Izzy sent a follow-up message.

And FYI, I might be back at the lake soon. I went to see Grace one more time before I left and ran into her nephew, Noah. Turns out he’s her grandnephew. He’s funny and handsome, and, well… we have a date next weekend. It’s time to give a nice guy a chance, right?

Izzy added a couple of blushing emojis, and Julia couldn’t help but smile.

While it was difficult to find the right words with Christian, Julia had no trouble answering Izzy.

That all sounds wonderful. And I’d love to help.