On a brilliant, sun-drenched day at the lake, I meet Roscoe while taking a much-needed day off to enjoy the water and sunshine. With an air mattress under one arm, and my beach bag hanging on the other, I walk toward the water, pushing off the shore and paddling until the people sunning themselves on the dock fade into little patches of color. I keep my eyes straight ahead before climbing on the mattress and rolling onto my back, falling asleep, seconds later. I sleep peacefully until something crashes into me.
A boat zips past.
The turbulence of the wake pushes another solitude-seeking soul on an air mattress into my path.
“Oops, I’m sorry, Miss.”
Half-opening and squinting my left eye, I search for the source of the voice that’s interrupted my bliss.
“No problem.”
“Ma’am, you sure
