Eli North stripped off his clothes and waded into the water. The lake muck cushioned his feet, and, when he was in up to his chest, he rested his plastic travel mug on the water’s surface and let his feet drift upward. He had always been good at floating.

The water had that mid-August feel, warm and slippery and heavy with microorganisms, and a flotilla of lily pads protected the tiny beach from water traffic. Not that anyone would be on the water at this time of night.

He tried to focus on the stars, the weightless sensation of floating. Meditation, they called it. A way to set aside negative thoughts. He put the mug to his lips and sucked the whiskey through his teeth so it wouldn’t spill into his nose. His lip was split, only partially healed, and the fiery liquor lanced the wound open again.

Michelle had agreed to meet him after work, but she’d left before he had shown up, two hours late. It was a sad routine, making promises, breaking promises, and there was a part of him that had been relieved when she asked for a divorce in July. At least now they could both move on, her to something better, and him to a place where he didn’t disappoint her all the time.

He thought of Andy.

Across the lake, somebody cranked up the radio. Etta James’s voice slid over the water, a nice change from the usual shit-kickin’ country coming from Dan Simons’s cabin. Classy with a K was how Michelle had always described Dan. Eli took another sip of whiskey and winced at the pain on his lip, at the throb of the surrounding bruise.

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

The music seemed custom-made for the setting, as if it was to be sung only on dark summer nights, against the rustle of cattails and the plinking call of chorus frogs. Maybe the vacationers wouldn’t mind Etta James. Maybe they wouldn’t call to complain. Maybe tonight he could just get drunk and float. He lay there, floating, for a long time, long enough to notice that the music was playing on repeat, which suited him just fine.