I had visited Spirit Lake a few times when Zack and I were
looking at houses.
I hadn’t really paid much attention, to be honest. It was
probably from my inner spoiled brat refusing to accept that the move was going
to be a reality.
As we drove our U-Haul along the lake front Main Street I
finally was able to take it all in.
A well-kept boardwalk bordered the east side of the
lake. Small shops lined the paved
streets. A bar, a general store, a
library and a few gift shops and boutiques were all that consisted of Spirit
Lake’s downtown.
We passed the storefront that was now Zack’s place of business. The big, picture window still was still foggy
with soap, but the awning was up.
Beach Reads.
“You okay?” I could
feel Zach’s hand on my knee.
I nodded.
I was, or at least, I would be.
I just had to adjust.
I just had to keep telling myself that soon this place would feel like
home.
At least I had Zack. With him, any place could feel like
home.
I repeated these mantras over and over in my brain. I
repeated them to suppress the feeling that something about Spirit Lake felt
wrong.
Something felt very wrong.
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