“What the hell does this guy do?” Maddy asked, shaking her head.
“I don’t know,” I breathed.
She looked at me. “How’d you find this place again?”
“The agency. The lady seemed like she knew someone. I think it was luck.”
I got out and shaded my eyes as I looked up at the house. I’d never seen anything like this in real life. It reminded me of a castle. Stone walls and minarets. I could see at least four chimneys.
“Maybe he’s a famous rapper?” Maddy said, “Or like, some big executive?”
“Jeff Bezos maybe?” I joked.
“He probably has a helipad on the roof.”
“He probably does…”
As we started pulling our bags from the trunk, a brown-haired middle-aged woman came out of the side of the three-car garage. “Are you Emma?” she said in a thick Mexican accent.
“Yes, hi.” I smiled.
“Hello. I’m Maria,” she said. “I’ll take you to the cottage. Is this all you have?” she asked, looking at my two bags and Maddy’s three.
“This is it,” I said. “Are we okay to park here?”
“No,” she said, taking one of Maddy’s bags. She handed us a garage door opener and pointed to the bay on the far left. “You can park in there. Mister doesn’t like to see cars in the courtyard. I’ll wait while you move it.”
We moved the car into the garage—which had a lift inside to double-stack vehicles. Maddy mouthed What the fuck? to me while Maria wasn’t watching. And then we followed Maria across an enormous backyard to the lake, dragging our luggage through the perfect grass.
The back of the mansion was even grander than the front. The backyard had a pool and an enclosed gazebo. White Adirondack chairs lined up on a huge sandy shoreline and beyond that a yacht was parked under a cover off the dock.
Farther down, an old pontoon so dilapidated it looked like it had washed up in a storm was tethered to a pole.
“This is your boat,” Maria said. “It’s old, so you beat it up all you want, Mister won’t care. Do you know how to drive a boat?”
“No,” I admitted.
She opened a door on the side of the pontoon and started loading our bags. “I’ll show you. It’s easy. Just like a car.”
We stood behind her as she gave us a quick tutorial on how to start it and raise and lower the prop. Then she untied it, pushed off the dock, cranked it into reverse, and backed out expertly into the open water. She turned us around and started for a large island toward the center of the lake.
Maria spoke over her shoulder as we drove. “The radio doesn’t work and it doesn’t go fast. There’s life jackets and a paddle under the seats. You have to put gas at the marina, I’ll show you on a map. Look at the house so you remember where to go when you come back.”
Maddy scoffed quietly. “Yeah, I don’t think we’re going to lose the house. They can probably see it from space.”
My hair whipped around in the warm late-July breeze, and I had to hold it at the nape of my neck to keep it out of my face. The sun beat down on us. The boat didn’t have a canopy over it. Like an ancient, nautical convertible with no top. It was just wide open to the elements.
Maddy must have been thinking the same thing I was. “Does it rain a lot in Minnesota?” she asked, raising her voice over the sound of the old motor.
“All the time,” Maria said. “I’m so happy he did this. This is the first time Mister’s ever rented the cottage.”
“Why did he decide to rent it?” I shouted.
She waved her hand. “He never uses it. His girlfriend left him a few years ago and he never came after that. Too sad because he always came with her, you know? This has been in the family for fifty years, and now it sits empty. You will like it, it’s very nice.” She nodded ahead of us. “You see the dock with the owl?”
We strained to look. There was a small dock on the island ahead with a plastic owl perched on the end. “That’s it. Very easy to find. And you can see the house from here. See? Very easy.”
I was relieved it was such a short trip. I’d looked at a map of Lake Minnetonka and it was huge. I’d been a little worried we’d get lost trying to go back and forth, but you could see one dock from the other.
When we pulled up, which took a lot longer than the short distance implied—Maria was right, the boat did not go fast—Maddy grabbed on to the pole and pulled us in as Maria showed me how to kill the motor. She showed us how to tether the boat and turn off the battery, and then we grabbed our bags.
We started walking toward the property, the wheels of our luggage thunking on the planks of the dock. There was a tiny sand beach, just big enough for the firepit and four beach chairs. At the top of a zigzagging flight of wooden steps I could see a small white cottage nestled in the trees. We had neighbors on both sides, but they were far enough for privacy.
We lugged our bags up the stairs and were sweating by the time we made it to the door. We came in through a screened-in porch that overlooked the lake. Maddy and I shared a glance. It was adorable. White wicker rocking chairs and a small matching loveseat with thick floral cushions. A cute coffee table and plastic ferns in wrought-iron planters and hanging baskets.
“This is it,” Maria said, unlocking the front door. “No candles allowed, but you can use the fireplace. It doesn’t have a heater.” She pushed open the door and we followed her into a gorgeous, bright, cozy living room. Maddy and I looked around smiling. “Oh wow. It’s even better than the pictures,” I said.
Maria looked pleased.
The house was vintage rustic. Colorful area rugs covered the weathered hardwood floors. In front of a stone fireplace, there was a chunky white couch with a heavy knitted throw blanket draped over the side and plaid throw pillows at each end. There were mismatched armchairs that looked lived in, a hope chest turned coffee table, and a chandelier made of driftwood over the four-person table in the kitchen. The kitchen had a large white farm sink, white cabinets with glass panes with mason jar cups and handmade bowls and plates behind them. No dishwasher, but we’d live.
Maria sighed at the house and shook her head. “Every year I come, I clean and dust. He never comes. Finally I said, ‘Why don’t you make someone happy with this place? You rent it.’ I’m glad he listened.”
“Me too,” Maddy said.
“A place like this should have laughter in it,” Maria said, taking us to the bedrooms. “Memories.”
The bedrooms were off the living room on either side of a short hallway with a single bathroom shared in the middle. The bathroom had a white claw-foot tub, pale blue tile, and an old pedestal sink. I took the room with the cushioned reading nook in the window and Maddy picked the one with the hanging swing chair in the corner.
