The lake filled the windows, blue and smooth, with a dock at the foot of the lawn.

We set little Walter down on the hardwood in the middle of the room.

He sat still for a second, then pushed off.

His palms smacked the floor.

He headed for the hearth and the thick rug in front of it.

“Let him explore,” Helen said.

“We’re not in any rush.”

He stopped at a low bookshelf and hauled himself up.