“Sam and Peter can bring their kids down to fish next summer.”

Sophie reached over and laid her hand on top of mine.

Her fingers were warm on my skin.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the courthouse Friday?” she asked.

“The lawyers can take care of the paperwork,” I said.

“Dean’s life is his own business now.

Mine is right here.”

Across the bay a gray heron lifted slowly out of the reeds, its big wings beating steadily over the calm water.

We watched it skim low across the lake until it disappeared behind the tall pines on the far point.

“The water’s quiet today, Sophie,” I said, “and so are we.”

We sat side by side on the wooden pier under the pale morning sky, watching the ripples spread and fade until the water lay still once more.