Marriage Seasons 01 - It Happens Every Spring Read Online Free PDF Page A

reality
faced by many of the area's year-round residents. Mobile homes
and sagging houses with leaky roofs hid in the woods along roads
that led to high-end condominiums and gated communities.
Parent-teacher night filled the local school's parking lot with an
odd mix of rusty old junkers and luxury sedans. Steve knew there
wasn't much of a middle class at the lake, and it was tough on those
who tried to make a decent living.
    Bagnell Dam, built in the 1930s, had plugged up five rivers and
created a body of water that now boasted 1,200 miles of shoreline.
Restaurants, arcades, antiques shops, grocery stores, bars, and tattoo parlors proliferated, but these businesses failed at an alarming
rate. Turnover in the strip mall at Tranquility was too high for
comfort, Steve believed. He had been considering a move into
commercial real estate-and keeping that little mall alive was one
of his major goals.
    Congratulating himself once again for his wisdom in buying a
hybrid, Steve ran his credit card through the slot on the gas pump.
As he began to fill the tank, he saw Pete Roberts saunter out from
the store.
    "Hey, Steve. How's it going?" Pete wandered over and started
washing the Honda's windshield. "Sell any houses today?"
    "I'm closing on one next week, and I've got another that's just about ready to go to contract. It's a great market for both buyers
and sellers right now." He made his voice sound as cheerful as possible. "What's new with you?"

    Pete Roberts, a newcomer to Deepwater Cove, might be a
good-looking man, but it was hard to tell under his beard. If he
really wanted his business to succeed, Steve thought, he needed to
lose some of that beer belly, shave his beard, and put on a pair of
khakis. Old, worn-out jeans didn't look professional. And he
ought to wear a long-sleeved shirt to cover up those tattoos.
    "Folks have been in and out of the store all day," Pete commented. He began wiping the streaks from the windshield. "Sold a
lot of minnows and a fair number of worms. They say fishing's
been pretty good. You been out much?"
    "No time for fishing these days. The business keeps me going
nonstop."
    "Everybody's talking about some fellow who showed up on
your front porch last night in the storm," Pete said. "You get a
good look at him?"
    Steve grimaced. News traveled way too fast in Deepwater Cove.
He recalled the heated discussion he and Brenda had gotten into
the evening before. It seemed lately that was the only kind of talking they did.
    Brenda had once been bright, energetic, and fun. But she was
growing more and more unpleasant, and the whole situation confused him.
    Just when she should have been her happiest, she had begun to
turn sour and snappy. On top of that, she had lost so much weight
that she looked downright haggard. Steve had always admired the
soft curves and rounded femininity that Brenda bemoaned while
gazing at herself in the mirror. "Look at these hips," she would
lament, but he loved them. A woman ought to be shapely, he
thought, with gentle mounds and silky hollows in all the right
places.
    It bothered Steve that his wife wasn't eating right, taking care of herself, or looking at the sunny side of life. These days, entering
their house felt like stepping into a chill wind off the lake. When
Brenda emerged from the kitchen or the basement-her eyes distant and her hair straggly-he felt like he had come home to the Ice
Queen.

    Last night Steve had been frustrated and worried. Why on earth
had she thought it was safe to open the front door and hand a plate
of food to a complete stranger?
    She had told him there was paint and mud all over the basement
floor. Then she started crying.
    By that time, Steve was so upset with her that all he could do was
go to bed and hope it blew over by the next day. He had left the
house this morning before Brenda was up.
    "I saw the fellow on the porch," Steve told Pete. "Pretty hard to
miss. I figure he was just some