The shadows had deepened outside. Along with the first signs of sunset, the birds and squirrels seemed to be gathering food for the long autumn night. I nibbled some of the crackers we'd brought with us as I read through the manuscript on Dad's computer. He'd always said that he got most of his writing done at the cabin because there was no internet to distract him. Still, it was hard not to get drawn away by the scenery outside.

The book was good. He'd told me about it many times, with great enthusiasm. 'I think this is the one, Lucas. I feel it in my bones'. Of course, what he didn't know was that a lot of what he was actually feeling in his bones was not the glimmer of a blockbuster but rather the disease that would take him long before he could finish his bestseller.

I sat back in the chair, his chair, with its familiar squeaks and sighs, and stared at the words on the monitor. I always considered myself a good writer. In between working hours at my real job, the soul-sucking one, I'd managed to write and sell a few stories to magazines. But I wasn't sure if I was ready to take on a full novel, let alone one that had originated in my dad's mind.

I closed the computer. Denni came in from the deck where she'd been feeding birds with crackers. She was wearing a smile that I'd already committed to memory. No matter what happened once I headed back home, I would never forget this weekend or the woman standing in front of me.

"So, are you going to finish it?" She walked over and leaned her bottom against the edge of the desk and faced me.

I took hold of her hand and ran my fingers over the beaded bracelet on her wrist. "Sure, just as soon as you make a call to your mom."

She stared down at her hand in mine for a second. "I will call just as soon as I have a phone. I promise. Guess that just leaves you to fulfill your half of the bargain."

"Guess it does." I picked my phone up off the desk and glanced at it before holding it up to her. "I've got three bars, so it'll work just fine."

Her long lashes fluttered in consideration as she looked at the phone on my palm. I waited for her to come up with an excuse or to walk away angry. But she didn't. She pushed off the desk and grabbed the phone quickly, afraid, it seemed, that if she thought about it too long, she'd change her mind.

Denni strolled over toward the fire as her fingers flew over the phone. With hesitation, she lifted the phone to her ear and waited. I could hear a voice on the other side. I was sure Denni would hang up. The long pause that followed seemed to confirm my guess but then she spoke.

"Hey, Mom, it's me. It's Denise."

I got up, grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and headed out onto the deck to give her some privacy. Dad's rusted, frayed chaise lounge was folded up and tucked against the side of the cabin. I pulled it out of the cold shadows and gave it a shake to get rid of the dead pine needles and any spiders that might have taken up residence.

The lounge fought against me, wanting to retain the folded shape it had been in for months. With some effort and determination, I managed to pry it open. I settled it in the center of the deck where I could see through the railing and down to the forest below.

I pulled the blanket around my shoulders to ward off the crisp icy breeze shifting through the forest. It seemed the last traces of Dad's ashes had been whisked off to the far away corners of the woods, which was exactly what he wanted.

I leaned back, and surprisingly, the rickety lounge didn't collapse beneath my shifting weight. It was so quiet around the cabin, I could hear the soft murmur of Denni's voice as she spoke to her mom. I'd made the bargain and now I was going to have hold up my end of it. The thought of finishing Dad's novel was exciting but scary as hell. What if I started writing and discovered that my writing was shit? What if I couldn't set the tone or style to match my dad's? There was a lot to consider. I didn't want to start a project that could very well end in disappointment. I would feel as if I'd let Dad down completely.

The sliding door opened and shut. I glanced back at Denni. I couldn't quite read the expression on her face, but I was relieved to see she wasn't angry or upset.

Without a word, she straddled the lounge and settled back against me. I wrapped my arms and the blanket around her. She sighed as she looked at the view. I decided not to pry or ask her how the conversation went. She'd tell me if she wanted to.

"It gets so cold here when the sun starts to set." She wriggled her body against me in a shameless attempt to steal more of my body heat. I was glad to give it. I'd have gladly transferred every molecule of heat to her, leaving myself just a frozen piece of human jerky if that's what she needed.

"Those trees are beautiful scenery, but they provide just a little too much shade. It's great in the middle of summer, but at any other time of year it's too cold."

She took hold of my wrists and pulled my arms tighter around her. "It's a good thing I brought along my Luke shawl with all his hot, hotness. You know what would be fun right now?"

"I can think of at least one thing." I moved my hips forward to let her know that in those few seconds in my arms, she'd given me an erection.

"Oh good, then we're on the same page. But not on this creaky old lounge. Let's go in by the fire. We can pull the blankets and pillows off the bed," she suggested.

"I am in complete agreement with every damn part of that plan. I'll get more wood for the fire and you get the blankets and we'll meet in the middle. Preferably naked."

She wiggled against me. "It's like we have the same mind." She grew quiet for a second. "Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for talking me into calling my mom. I think she really is trying to make amends. We're planning to meet next month."

"I'm glad, Denni."

She twisted in my arms and peered up at me. "So when do you start writing?"