Chapter 12

As usual, Mélanie woke up as soon as she heard Sonny stir in his bed. Glancing at the window, she saw the sun was shining; the falls would be lovely with their morning rainbow.

Next to her, she heard Paul talk quietly with Sonny. “What do you say we go for a dip in the lake instead of taking a shower this morning? That way, your mama can rest up a bit longer.”

Sonny gave the idea all the serious thought it deserved... “Okay,” he decided.

They grabbed two towels from the dresser and stepped out, closing the door softly behind them.

Twenty minutes later, feeling slightly guilty for having lazed away the morning like that, she got up as well and opened the dresser to grab a towel as well (Shit! She couldn’t avoid it; she absolutely had to do some housekeeping today – the drawer was empty. At least she didn’t have to wash her own sheets and towels.) In any case, she would soon have to make a decision; her room at the inn was already on the small side with a single bed and Sonny’s cot. Now that Paul was sharing her room more or less permanently and leaving for Montreal every morning at five, there was more room in a can of sardines. As long as they spooned and did not move around too much during the night, it wasn’t too bad but as for snuggling or more, forget it.

Coming up to the lake, she saw that Paul was swimming at the other end. With a shudder, she stiffened her upper lip, walked into the lake up to her knees and dove head first into the water. The lake, fed by a spring above the falls, was always chilly even during the hottest time of the year. Sonny seemed totally impervious to the water temperature; he was sitting in the water at the edge of the beach, looking at how the sun was illuminating the droplets as they poured out of his hands.

Shivering, she hurried out and dried herself off briskly. Paul, having finished swimming around the lake, came out as well.

“Hello,” said he as if they had just met. “Do you come to this lake often?”

“God, no; it’s much too cold,” she replied, laughing. “Usually, I prefer a nice hot shower. It was the sun that urged me to come down. Sonny loves it, however – I don’t know how he does it. Sorry but there were no towels left – I stole yours.”

“Not a problem; I’ll make do. Me, I love the water temperature; it opens the appetite. When I was in San Francisco, I used to go to Black’s Beach; that’s a clothing optional beach near the Golden Gate Bridge. San Francisco Bay has a reputation of being ice-cold; to such an extent that the guards at Alcatraz didn’t even bother walking the walls because any prisoner that tried to swim out froze to death before reaching the shore.”

“Speaking of appetite, let’s go see if the dining room is open; I’m as hungry as a wolf! Come on, Sonny, it’s mealtime.”

“Okay.”

And all three walked in, hand-in-hand.