This was an adventure. She was alive and awake and in charge, and Devin needed to see that. A kaleidoscope of landscapes passed like a slide show- farmland, sandy pine barrens, cypress ponds. This is what Kate's mother had referred to as the "Wet South", as they'd made their way to Lost Lake the last time. She'd made it sound unexplored and exotic, something untoward and almost fearful.

Kate could feel a strange heat along the back of her neck, something she hadn't felt in a while. It was almost exotic, like tasting turmeric or saffron after a year of eating pudding. There was a bite to it.
She was annoyed.
She was finally awake and annoyed.

This was an adventure. She was alive and awake and in charge, and Devin needed to see that. A kaleidoscope of landscapes passed like a slide show- farmland, sandy pine barrens, cypress ponds. This is what Kate's mother had referred to as the "Wet South, as they'd made their way to Lost Lake the last time. She'd made it sound unexplored and exotic, something untoward and almost fearful.

She opened her eyes slowly and saw that a pale lavender moth had come to a rest on the back of her hand. She watched it from her pillow, wondering if it was real. It reminded her of her husband Matt's favorite T-shirt, which she'd hidden in a bag of sewing, unable to throw it away. It had a large faded moth on the front, the logo of a cover band out of Athens called the Mothballs.
That T-shirt, that moth, always brought back a strange memory of when she was a child. She used to draw tattoos of butterflies on her arms with Magic Markers. She would give them names, talk to them, carefully fill in their colors when they started to fade. When the time came that they wanted to be set free, she would blow on them and they would come to life, peeling away from her skin and flying away.

Kate picked up the carafe and poured some coffee into a cup. She added sugar and cream until it was the color of caramel. Her mom used to take her coffee like this. 'So sweet it could kiss you,' she used to say.

Our first guests were unconventional- free spirits and hippies. We seemed to attract oddballs, and we didn't know why. Don't get me wrong. We loved it. But I'll never forget the first summer Bulahdeen and her husband arrived. She said they chose Lost Lake because of the brochure. She said that she took one look at the photo of me and George and thought, 'I'm a misfit like them, so maybe I could be happy there, too.'"
That made Kate laugh. "She was right. Misfits need a place to get away, too. All that trying to fit in is exhausting.