Dear Diary,
Things are oddly quiet today. I went up to the lodge to see if there was anything going on, or just to see, I guess, and it was kind of a ghost town. Edgar and Truman were out on the water, and Alyssa’s off again, but I didn’t see Jane, and Henry wasn’t knitting in his rocking chair. Actually, I didn’t see anybody, but I wasn’t really hoping to see Emily or Henry.
Or Percy. I kind of forget about him. He looks like the sort of guy who works on Wall Street, only maybe that’s just because I don’t know what people actually look like when they work on Wall Street. Something that means you wear a suit in a city, maybe. Accountant, or lawyer, or I don’t know. The kind of guy who doesn’t even have a pair of jeans for weekend grubs, and who didn’t think of buying any for this summer. A clueless sort of guy out of touch with the real world, I guess.
And seriously, nobody’s seen Mary since the 1st? Assuming, of course, that Jonathan saw Mary and this isn’t some sort of fake. Could that happen? Is there any reason why a man would pay Jonathan to pretend he had a wife?
Is there any reason Jonathan would agree?
He values our privacy. And he values privacy enough to have bought this place, and to run it, and keep it up year after year after year. People come for a month, learn to answer to the name he gives them, and go away again. Maybe he doesn’t even know if he actually helped any of them.
I’d say “Maybe he never helps anyone” but I don’t think that’s true. At the very least, Edgar looks like he’s doing better. One in six, huh, Agatha? Well, one in seven, if Mary’s both real and not dead.
Do you know what Loon Lake’s done for me so far? Made me both incredibly creative and paranoid.
Seriously, it’s dead around here. That’s not the best word, but it’s the right word. There’s just nobody, and it’s the first time I’ve really kind of wished there’d be somebody. Is that healing or boredom?
I guess I could call someone, because even if there’s nobody at the desk, it would have to be routed through to Jonathan or Lydia or someone, right? But it’s not Monday. He calls on Monday, and I’ll be damned if I call him twice before then. Once right after the whole panic, okay, maybe, but twice? This time because I just want to talk to someone?
Not even him. It could be anyone. Jane or Percy, whatever. Even Henry or Emily. Probably not Truman, because we both look at each other a little sideways, but if that’s my only shot …
Truman’s figured out who I am. I’m not sure how, because I really don’t look like any of the public photographs of myself anymore, or maybe I just don’t see it. But Alyssa told him her name, and he realized who I am, so he knows our connection. Why I’d be a little skeptical, or protective, or something. Why it matters how I look at him, I guess.
Alyssa’s a grown up. She’s not all that much younger than I am. She finished college and did her paid internship and opted for this, or maybe felt like she was forced into this, because the internship people didn’t offer her a job and her other applications didn’t pan out. Not that she ever really told me that much herself, but I got it second-hand. Which is why the Truman thing is so awkward, because first I’m not someone she’d tell, but I’m connected to someone she probably should tell, if it’s the real deal.
Jonathan talked about a wedding in May, but I’m not sure if Truman’s thinking that far ahead yet. Hell, I don’t even know Alyssa well enough to say if she’s the sort of person to jump with her whole heart or if the idea’s ridiculous, and I’m not going to ask someone who does know. We knew July had the potential to be awkward, but I told her we’d stick to professional during her working hours, and if I really needed her for something personal, I’d come by her cabin after 8.
How long has Truman been coming to her cabin after 8? Does he wake up there, too?
He’s almost got a California surfer dude vibe about him. It’s not just the kayaks and always being on the water. He’s tanned, and blonde, and lean, and easy-going. He’s not my type, but he’s definitely a type. A yeah I’m kind of surprised he’s single type.
Except he’s not single. He’s with Alyssa. Okay, I need to get out of my own head. I’ll do another circuit up to the lodge and pick up a book and take it out onto the porch if it’s not too bright to read. I’ll stay inside if it is, but I’ll at least be out in a public space. See if anyone comes to me.
Rebecca Frost 
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