Somewhere In-Between Read Free Page B

“Mosquitoes? Black flies?” she asks, eyeing the screens.
    Elke shrugs. “Not so bad. The wind from the lake helps.”
    â€œYes, I imagine that the north wind must be brutal in the winter. I’m surprised you built the house at the head of the lake instead of in the shelter of the trees.”
    â€œYah. Virgil, he tells Helmut the same thing, not to build here. But,” she shrugs again, “the view.”
    She leads them to the den on the opposite side of the living room. “Look at the light in here, Julie,” Ian says. “Don’t you think this would make a great office for you?”
    An office for what?
she wonders, then not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm any more than she has she nods and returns his smile. But something about the view of nothing except the barn and empty meadows stretching south makes her cringe. Mental isolation is one thing, but physical isolation? Could what was left of their marriage survive it?
    Heading upstairs Julie tries to ignore the stuffed animals, the deer, mountain goat, and moose heads gazing down from the log walls. Ian doesn’t ask if they stay, and like herself she senses him avoid their glass-eyed stares. While they tour the upstairs bedrooms, she feels him checking her reaction every now and then. It’s difficult not to be impressed with the opulence of the house, the oversized master suite with a private balcony overlooking the lake. Back downstairs, she concedes, “You have a beautiful home, Mrs Woell,” as they follow her into the kitchen.
    The widow opens a maple cabinet and takes out four pottery mugs. “Yah. It is beautiful,” she says, placing two of the mugs under the coffee machine spigots. “I tell my husband he is spending too much.” She turns to face them. “I say, ‘Helmut, you will never get your money back.’ But it didn’t matter he says, he wants to live here for the rest of his life.” She leans against the counter, crossing her arms in front of her. “
Und
,” she says, “he did.”
    Richard clears his throat and places his briefcase on the table. “You couldn’t build this house today for the list price of the entire ranch,” he says, gesturing for Julie and Ian to take a seat.
    â€œYah, the price is good. Firm,” Elke announces, oblivious to her agent’s slumping shoulders. “Everyone tells me, it is too soon, you must not sell so fast. You must give it some time. Virgil will look after the ranch. So yah, I could stay.” She places steaming mugs in front of Julie and Ian. “But no.” She shakes her head and straightens up. “Now, I go to the city. This was Helmut’s dream, not mine.”
    Hearing the woman’s statement—so similar to her own thought earlier today—Julie watches for Ian’s reaction to her words. But Ian is too intent on studying his surroundings to notice.
    Sipping her coffee, Julie, too, looks around the immaculate stainless steel and granite kitchen. It would be impossible not to admire the imported European appliances, the gleaming wood walls and beamed ceiling, the wood-fired oven built into the kitchen side of the rock fireplace. And, Julie has to admit, the comforting aroma of baking bread wafting from that oven, is the perfect touch. Through the bay window over the sink, Julie catches a glimpse of the lake’s sun-sparkling surface. At that moment a loon glides past the shallow reeds near shore. It lifts its ebony head and releases a warbling call, a haunting plea to some unseen mate.
    A professional house stager could not have planned it better. Beside her, Ian tilts his head and listens with an appreciating grin as a volley of answering cries echo across the water.
    In another life Julie would just as easily have allowed herself to admire the beauty of it all. She envies Ian’s ability to do so now.

3
    â€œPurging?” her sister asks from the kitchen