The closest they got to real work was filling out paperwork for Arthur’s broker so that he could purchase her stocks. Otherwise, they played house. The work that needed doing after so many years of neglect required elbow grease instead of special skills—Sherri had never minded hard physical labor. She preferred to be busy. The toilet bowl was filled with rust from the high mineral content in the water. Spiderwebs clung to every crevice and corner, and the walls above the beadboard needed to be painted. The house had been sold furnished, but the upholstered furniture was musty and dank. Sherri lifted the cushion on one of the camp chairs to take outside to dry out in the sun. It seemed heavy and suddenly it broke open. Sherri and Arthur laughed until they cried when dog food the mice had squirreled away spilled onto the floor. They hauled the chairs and old pillows and stained twin mattresses with springs sticking out of them to the dump. Fortunately, the caretaker had left some antique furniture worth keeping. Sherri polished the charming bookcases with their leaded glass windows and the matching prairie-style rocking chairs with black leather seats that sat sentinel by the fieldstone fireplace. The stained oak dining table with claw feet gleamed like new with a few coats of Pledge. She carried the rugs out to the laundry line and slapped them with a broom while Arthur pruned the bushes and pried off the thick slatted shades that hung over the windows. The dim house filled with the gentle, dappled light that streamed through the surrounding trees, which had only recently burst into bloom. “You don’t even need shades here,” she said. “Who’s going to see?”

Arthur reached for Sherri and pulled her down to the floor in front of the fireplace. “It’s just us, and it’s perfect.”

“Just us” was OK for Arthur, but Sherri had other ideas. “We made your place so cute, and the lake is so nice. Please can you have a party?”

“Oh Sher,” he said. “I don’t even know anyone here aside from you and Jerry. A party is a lot of work.”

“I’ll do everything. And I know people. I can order the keg, and string up little lights. Please?” The cottage was so cute, so woodsy. She loved the idea of having her friends there. She imagined them sitting in the chairs, drinking beer on the sunporch, standing just beyond the windows on the bluff overlooking the lake. She could hear the hum of conversation and the distant splashing of swimmers jumping off the pier. “Please?” She could almost feel how he softened to her entreaty. “Think of it as a housewarming.”

“The house is already warm.”

She straddled him, took off her shirt, and smiled. She could see what it did to him. She enjoyed this newfound power. “Please?”