Rain, Rain Go Away

The Forest whispered, aware of her attention.

Duchess wrenched her gaze away. She was drawn to the woods without knowing why. It was too late to explore without grabbing a flashlight. Tomorrow morning would be soon enough.

The ceramic bowl, measuring cups and wooden spoon were waiting on the counter again when she came down the next morning. The cookbook was on the counter, opened to Maple Walnut Muffins, an apron draped over the counter.

She tied it around her back. "You're not subtle, are you? Maybe even a bit of a show-off?"

The oven clicked on, the scent of cinnamon and maple already in the air.

An hour later, she was on the verandah, at one of the cedar tables, muffin and hot coffee beside the open, no-longer-blank journal. She wasn't sure whether to write in it or if her notes would disappear. She turned the pages. Wyndy's diagrams from yesterday were still there, little cozy touches added, tiny hummingbirds hovering, smoke furling from the chimneys.

"Hummingbirds again, Wyndy?"

She gazed out at the lake. A family of ducks swam close to the shore, single file.

Time to figure out what she needed. She thought and wrote as she picked at her muffin. The list grew.

• Contractor

• Cabins

• Wood

• Plumbing

• Windows

• Electrical

(contractor's problem, not mine!)

• Business Manager

• Wi-Fi

• Fridges, dishes

• Coffee Maker

Her pen slipped from her fingers. She dropped her head to her chest.

Her fingers ached. Her coffee had gone cold.

"Oh my God Wyndy," she whispered, "I don't know what I'm doing."

Misty jumped into her lap, purring. She petted the cat, knowing she needed the caresses as much as the cat.