Blue Heaven (Blue Lake) by Cynthia Harrison

laps. The envelope glue was gone, the ink on the old pages had faded, the creases were browned with age, but the words told the story of a friendship that developed over time, about a world long gone, where soup lines in Detroit delivered many people’s only meal of the day. In Blue Lake, hunting and fishing were not sports, they were survival skills. Both great-grandmothers had gardens and took great pride in “putting up” jars of peaches and green beans. A few of the letters shared recipes written on small cards, in different hands, those of two wives doing their part to wrestle a living off the land.
    And it was in the letters that a plan was hatched between the two men to change the course of Blue Heaven from a summer retreat into a new means of making money for the Delacroix family. In one letter, Daniel found a rough sketch of the cottages. He handed it to her. “No gloating.”
    She just smiled. At last they could share her vision.
    After they’d looked through everything, they got up to stretch and realized it was dusk. Too late to start on the beach stairs.
    “It feels wrong to break up this collection,” Daniel said. “It’s on your property, so I guess you have first claim.”
    “No, you should have your letters and photos. Anyway, there’s so much mess and confusion going on here. I think everything will be better kept at your place for now.”
    “We need copies of the blueprint. I know a guy in Port Huron who does specialized copying. Nobody should handle this original.”
    Eva carefully rolled the blueprint up and put it back into the cylinder. “I’ll take it in to him tomorrow.”
    “I’ll call to let him know you’re coming and what you have.”
    “Maybe I’ll frame the original and hang it in the office.”
    Daniel’s face fell. “That would be nice,” he said, making an effort. Oh . He probably would love that blueprint for his museum.
    After they’d labeled and sorted everything and organized them into boxes on the kitchen table, Daniel said “There’s no way we can stay in your budget now that we have these blueprints.”
    Eva tensed. “Hold on.” Sure, their ancestors had worked together. Sure, they could, too. But this was her project, and Daniel, no matter his many skills and considerable charm, would work on her budget and within her timetable.
    “William Bryman and Louis Delacroix lived in times quite similar to ours,” she told Daniel, trying to hold a reasonable tone even as her hands curled into fists and arranged themselves on her hips. “When the Depression hit, and Louis decided to change course, William went along with him. They built cottages and modified the bungalow. They bought linoleum instead of wood, they used cheaper products without sacrificing quality. They made deliberate decisions to maximize the earning potential for this place. Which is what I am doing.” She let her arms fall loosely around her body, trying hard to smooth out this dispute. Every time she saw Daniel, she liked him a little more. She didn’t want their shared history, and his intense focus on it, to make them awkward around each other.
    “But to be the best…”
    “I hear you. I do. Quality counts. Except you have piles of money, and I don’t.”
    “I’m happy to loan you whatever you need. And I won’t charge you interest. You don’t ever have to pay me back. Once this place gets into Discovery Architecture …” Daniel had been talking all morning about how his writer friend would not be able to resist this new angle of a renovated beach resort. “…you will never have to advertise again. You will be able to raise your rates. You will be able to show off your showplace.”
    Eva rubbed her bare arms. She felt raw. Maybe it was the sun going down, or maybe it was her past come back to haunt her. On the one hand, she knew the kind of advertising Daniel was talking about could not be bought, not on her budget. On the other, she’d been through this before. A wealthy