Mary filled the kettle and put it on the stove. A cup of tea would rejuvenate her. She dug out the cleaning spray she had brought with her then picked up a roll of paper towels. She walked across the central part of the cottage, the living room, heading toward the opposite end of the building. Mary glanced out the large windows at the lake and paused. There was Robert standing close to the water. He was looking toward the other side of the lake. At anything specific? The fall air was crisp and Mary had to admit that despite the coolness, it was wonderful down by the lake listening to the lapping of the water at the shore and the occasional cry of a loon. Considering the hustle and bustle of the big city, it was great to be surrounded by this calmness, the peace of the wilderness.
She watched Robert stroll toward the logs set up around a fire pit. Mary, Tom, and the kids had spent many an evening out there stoking the fire, talking, and roasting marshmallows. Well, roasting marshmallows not so much since the kids had grown up but it was great to sit around and talk. The kids had come into their own and it was so different to talk with them as adults instead of kids per se. They were all out of the nest, independent, and self-supporting. How different to talk with them about topics like the economy, politics, and other grown-up subjects. Mary smiled. She and Tom had not done such a bad job. The kids had turned out great.
Heading down the hall, Mary put the spray bottle under one arm to have two hands free to rip off a few paper towels from the roll. Once at the washroom, she set about giving everything a final wipe. Mary never wanted to leave any mess behind and she would be horrified if the owner Mr. Bender found any disorder after they left. She had to chuckle though. A cottage never seemed as neat and tidy as one's own home. With people running in and out swimming at the beach, walking in the woods, or carrying plates of food around, a cottage got not only a lot of wear and tear, but an incessant flow of leaves, twigs, and all things creepy-crawly. Despite anyone's best efforts, a cottage was never pristine. It always looked a little primitive.
Mary tucked the bottle of spray cleaner under her arm and headed back to the kitchen. She bunched up the used paper towels intending to put them in the recycling box. As she passed the main area, she glanced out the large window toward the lake. She saw that Robert was coming back up from the beach. Hearing the kettle whistling, she decided to offer the gentleman tea. Tom wouldn't be back for hours and this seemed like an interesting interruption.
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