“It sure would.” Roxie knew how property values had skyrocketed as people migrated out of cities and wanted lakefront property. “And your father started the furniture store business?”

“Yes, to sell the furniture he and a friend made. I have a couple of his pieces in the house. Whoever dreamed it would turn into four stores, all of which buy pieces from local artisans whenever possible. Right now I’m looking for someone who likes to make chests. I demand good wood and good workmanship, none of the typical assembly-made stuff on the market today.”

“Hm-mm, I know of a couple of woodworkers. I’ll see what they’re doing. One of them had a dovetailed box that was beautiful.”

Rich sipped his drink. “I’ve been to the local woodworkers meeting, but so far, most of them are carving, not building.”

Roxie nodded. “So many of the real craftsmen are dying off—the joiners and furniture makers—and no one is taking their places.” She glanced over to see Loren and Nate with their chairs close together so they could talk more easily. A fluffy orange cat was curled on her lap and Sophie lay between their chairs.

“Do you like sailing?” Rich asked.

“I guess, though I’ve not been out on the water for years. Loren and I were going to take up kayaking, but I never got around to it.”

“Do you canoe?”

“Same story. We have a man at the UFO group who is building a peapod and another with a kayak.”

“UFO?” The puzzled look he gave her made her laugh.

“I know what you’re thinking, but we are not into extraterrestrials. UFO means, in our case, unfinished objects. Or projects. We had a big group the first meeting and now we’ve started a morning group also. We meet again tomorrow night.”

“Intriguing. I always thought that someday I’d like to follow in my father’s footsteps and build special things, perhaps sculpture or…I don’t know, just been too busy to follow the dream.”

She smiled. “I see things sometimes in the houses I tour that I would like to incorporate into my house or yard. I love the gazebo on the edge of your pond.”

Nate stood up. “Thanks. Dad and I built it together. Can I get you a refill?”

Roxie held out her glass. “Yes, thank you. And that guacamole is really good. Not too spicy.”

Nate disappeared behind her.

“Thank you, my secret recipe.”

“You cook too?” she asked him.

“Sometimes,” Rich said so casually she couldn’t tell whether the answer was yes or no.