And Marci said no, that she wanted to go skating—and that their son, Jason, and his buddies had cleared a hockey rink–size patch of ice on the lake and had been playing hockey there all afternoon. So there would be no snow to clear.

Besides, it’d be romantic, she said. Because they’d probably have the whole lake to themselves, because Country Swing was going on at the Rec Center.

And Phil said that, if she really wanted to go, then they should go.

And Marci said she really wanted to go.

So Phil grabbed a hockey duffel and loaded it up with their skates and a couple of flashlights and a couple of towels and some blankets and some extra winter clothing, and Marci loaded up a large L.L.Bean tote with a thermos of hot chocolate and a couple of Coleman lanterns and a box of wooden matches, and they hopped into Phil’s GMC Sierra and headed west on the Road to Nowhere to Echo Lake so they could go skating.

As Phil drove, Marci talked about how maybe they needed to get Jason a math tutor. Geometry was killing him.

And then she talked about how she couldn’t believe Missy would be heading off to college next fall. And said that people at school were telling her she had a really good shot at getting into (prestigious) Bowdoin College—and that that was pretty exciting.

And then she asked if maybe they could have Lendall Tardy come by and give them a quote for the kitchen. Marci wanted to knock down the wall between the dining room and the kitchen and get new cupboards.

And Phil wondered if maybe they could wait and see if Missy got into a fancy college like Bowdoin before they committed to remodeling their kitchen.

And Marci said that, now that she was working again, they’d be able to handle both the college and remodeling expenses.

And Phil shrugged and said, “We’ll see,” and seemed irked.

And Marci asked him if he was okay.

And he said he had a lot on his mind.

And neither of them said anything else as they came into down-township Almost.

They passed Skyview Park.

And the old Gallagher Potato Farm.

And St. Mary’s Church.

And Ma Dudley’s Boardinghouse.

And the Moose Paddy.

And the Rec Center.

And at a little after eight, they arrived at Echo Lake.

They turned left onto Echo Lake Road, which wended through the woods for about a quarter of a mile and then deposited them in the parking area—which was, as Marci had predicted, deserted.

Phil parked the Sierra and cut the engine and they got out of the truck. He grabbed the hockey duffel from the backseat and pulled one of the flashlights out of it, while Marci grabbed her tote bag. Phil’s flashlight guided them down to the picnic tables—which had been dragged up to the edge of the frozen lake so skaters would have somewhere to sit while they changed into their skates.