The lake is a shimmering sheet of glass on Friday morning and quiet as a monastery. I can’t think of a more peaceful place to be on Independence Day.
“This lake is huge!” I yell to Su as Samir drives us out to the middle in the Mehta’s twenty-one-foot speedboat. The water skis lie on the floor of the boat, and two tubes take up the back seats.
“What’d you say?”
I guess she can’t hear me over the Evinrude outboard motor. “There are only two other boats out here,” I shout, even louder.
“This is New Hampshire’s largest lake. It’s got millions of islands and coves,” Su hollers over to me. Then she leans her head back, her arms propped on the edge of the boat and her long, tan legs stretched out. The wind blows her dark hair all over her face.
Man, does she look hot in that white bikini! W
