It’s not like I could come out and tell her, you know how I know how you take your coffee? Your dead husband wrote a story that seems to be about you and me getting together.

And also, it’s true. I don’t have milk or cream at the cabin, just packets of stevia, mainly because I was thinking about trying to make a cake or something and couldn’t find bags of it at the local supermarket, only a small box of individual packets.

She pours stevia into her coffee, stirs, sips. Her eyes slide closed, and she groans. “Oh my god, so good. Thank you.” A single small hand slips out from under the blanket; the other clutches the coffee without letting go of the blanket, keeping it pinned under her chin. “Nadia.”

I take her hand. It’s tiny, warm, delicate. “Nathan.”

“Well, Nathan. Thank you for the coffee.” Her eyes go to the sun peeking up over the top of the trees. “It’s very beautiful here.”

I turn and lean my elbows on the top rail, mug clutched in both hands. “Sure is.” I inhale deeply. “Peaceful.”

“Have you been here long?”

I shrug. “Couple weeks.”

A long silence. I don’t know how to fill it.

“How long are you staying?” she asks, breaking it, finally.

“Um. Open-ended.”

“Same here.”

I have a thousand questions, and none of them is anything I can ask.

“These cabins look like they were built by the same person.”

“They were,” I say. “Local fella named Roger Klupinsky.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Sure are. He was a real craftsman.” I knock on the beam, reach out and tap the join where the upright meets the overhang of the roof. “These joins are seamless. The floors, too. Everything is just this amazing craftsmanship you don’t see anymore.”

“Sounds like you say that with professional knowledge.”

I nod. “I’m a carpenter.”

“Houses?”

I shake my head. “Movie sets, things like that. I also do some carvings on the side, and that’s what I’ve been doing mostly, lately. Taking time away from work.”

“What do you carve?”

I glance at her. “I got a couple over in my cabin. I can show you some?”

She nods, smiles. “Sure.”

“Be right back.”

I leave my coffee balanced on the railing, amble over to my cabin. I’ve got four completed, and I grab them all. Bring them back to her cabin. I line them up on the floor near her feet, step back and sit on the top step.

She leans down; relinquishing her grip on the blanket finally, and takes one. “This is…remarkable.”

It’s a raccoon, small enough to sit on her palm. I tried to capture it sitting up on its hind legs, its front paws clasped in front of it the way they do, looking like it’s praying.

“It’s so cute! So lifelike.”