Re: [The Lake: Atticus & Cass]
"Not arguing that they don't have their reasons," he said of thieves. "Not arguing at all." Wasn't, but did think it was interesting how her train of thought seemed to slip between real and not, whimsy and serious. Gnawed on it in his mind as she hauled herself over.
Didn't look at her body. Kept his eyes averted from the wet slip. Wasn't prudishness, but she felt young. Student young, even though he suspected the years that divided them weren't all that significant. But had been a teacher too long. Didn't look at a wet girl in a slip as if she was just a wet girl in a slip, especially this wet girl in a slip. "Didn't mean it needs a more romantic name. Meant that I assumed you would come up for a romantic reason for it to be named what it is," explained patiently of Cerrito. Rowed. Scanned the dock and shore. Wondered where she came from. "Which way am I going?" he asked, pointing his chin toward the shore a moment.
"Like early mornings out here. Like dusk. Like late nights." Glanced at the boombox. "Like the Doors on early mornings. Slow. Deep. Thoughtful. Good for quiet lake mornings."