The Inn At Lake Devine (2011)
““Sad, isn’t it?” she said, watching me study the grainy mural. “Just being in the mountains was considered vacation.” She twisted around in her desk chair and looked at the wall above her. “Did you ever see a grimmer bunch?”
I asked when it was taken and whether they were relatives.
“We think nineteen fifteen.” She stood up and pointed to a child seated on a man’s lap. “That’s my father, and we think he was two or three.”
“Who’s the cook?”
“His grandmother.”
“What was it called?”
“Nothing formal—Tilly Feldman’s place in the mountains, or however you say that in Yiddish.”
“Is it still standing?” I asked.
Linette pointed out the window. “There, the white house by the first tee, improved and immortalized.”
I asked what it was used for now.
“Us,” she said. “Home of the famous Feldmans.”
“When did it become the Halseeyon?”
She groaned and said, “I hate this part.” She reached for an open pack of Virginia Slims and knocked one out.
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
9 / 10
User Reviews: