Salvatore sat at the edge of the pier. It was cold, too cold to be there, but there was something in the stillness of the water that gave him a peaceful feeling. Lake Bergman was large. You had to look really hard to see the distant shore. It didn't take a lot of his imagination for Salvatore to pretend it was a vast ocean that spread out to the horizon.

His father had loved to come down here. Tony had only been dead for a few weeks. The pain of that loss was still in the front of Salvatore's mind. The rest of the Dover community had gone back to their daily lives. Salvatore tried to go about his daily routines, pretending that he was fine, but he knew it was an act. He felt like a zombie, sleepwalking from activity to activity, but not feeling anything. He wasn't really there. He was far too hurt, too sad to feel anything else.

He had come down to the pier to try and make a connection to his father. Logically, he knew it didn't make sense. Tony was dead, and no amount of wishing could change that. But Salvatore wasn't thinking about logic. He was trying to feel, to feel his father's presence. He wanted to make a connection.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard anyone approach. He nearly fell into the lake when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Becky Collins. Her long hair hung about her shoulder and little wisps blew into her eyes. She wore a long cape made of layers of her mother's flax which had been treated with waterproofing chemicals. A scarf of dark blue was flung around her neck and a matching headband wrapped around her head covering her ears. The distant sun made the blond flecks in her hair glisten. Salvatore thought she was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

"Hi," he found his voice.

"What are you doing down here in the cold?" Becky's voice sounded more curious than concerned.

"Just thinking," Salvatore answered truthfully. "Why are you here?" The lake was a fair distance from the Dover complex. Salvatore hadn't thought anyone else would make the long trek this time of year.

"I come here a lot. It's quiet, unlike my house. No little sister to follow me around. No mother to nag me. No Jorge..." Becky's voice trailed off.

"You can always come to my house, it's pretty quiet most of the time now." Salvatore replied. He debated whether to ask what the problem with Jorge was, but decided to let it go.

"How is your mother doing? My mother worries that she spends too much time alone." Becky had settled herself down on the pier.

"Maya is a solitary person. She likes to have room to think. You should tell your mother not to be concerned. She...we both just need some time to accept that Babbo is gone." Salvatore felt uncomfortable discussing Maya.

"It doesn't matter if I say anything or not. My mother would still worry anyway. That's one of her favorite things to do, whether it's her business or not." Becky paused and pulled her knees up to her chest. "I'm sorry about your father. I mean being dead and everything. He was a really nice person. When I was indentured to Kate he went out of his way to treat me as an adult."

Salvatore looked at Becky. The wind was coming off the lake and blowing her hair behind her. "Isn't indentured a bit of an exaggeration? I thought Kate was your mentor."

"Kate was an old dried up shrew. You haven't had a mentor yet, have you?" Becky's question sounded almost like an accusation.

"No, but soon. It's time I start thinking about what I'm going to do with my life."

"Well choose carefully. Kate was a huge mistake. She thought teaching was the same as nagging. She wanted me to do what she said without uttering a word, like some little machine. I learned a lot more from Tony."

Salvatore looked at Becky. He wasn't sure what the right response was so he just sat and listened to the wind.

"You're so quiet. What are you thinking about?" Becky's tone was earnest.

"I was remembering the festival at the end of last winter." Salvatore smiled, "Your father tried to teach us that weird game, what was it called?"

Becky laughed, "Curling, it's a Canadian thing. He didn't have too much success, did he? No one could figure out the rules."

Salvatore smiled at the memory. Eddie Collins had tried to teach everyone the rules of curling. He had explained how the sport was tailor-made for Loki's winter. He was sure that his favorite game from home would gain new and deserved popularity here on the frozen lake. Salvatore was only 7 at the time but he remembered the scene well. People sliding all over the ice, brooms flying. He could almost see his parents standing on the edge of the lake, laughing at Eddie and his brood of children as they watched his efforts turn into a free for all. Salvatore smile dimmed as he realized that would never happen again. He would never see his parents together. Babbo was gone and Maya was working compulsively, presumably to keep her mind off her own loneliness. There was no going back, nothing would ever be the same again.

The temperature was dropping and he shivered involuntarily.

"You're cold. Take my scarf." Becky leaned over and began to wrap the thick material around Salvatore's neck. He could feel her thin fingers as they brought the edges of the scarf towards his chest. Her face was very close to his and Salvatore could feel her warm breath on his skin.

"I hate to see you so sad, so alone. I'd like to help. I know what it's like to be alone."

Salvatore noticed how beautifully Becky voice resonated. It had a deep sound like some of the singers on his father's records. Her accent was more like her father, Eddie, than Shermeen's, but her face had the same softness as her mother's. Sitting so close, Salvatore had an overwhelming desire to touch her. He just wanted to find out what she felt like under her wrap. He could picture her soft curvy figure in his mind. He tried to push these thoughts aside, and tried to concentrate on their conversation "I can't imagine you're ever lonely. Your family is huge, and there's Jorge of course."

Becky hands dropped into her lap and her face took on a lost expression. She stared out toward the water. Salvatore realized that she was upset, but wasn't sure what to do, what to say. He felt like a little boy, pretending to be an adult. Finally, Becky spoke up.

"I'm sorry. I had almost forgotten all about Jorge, sitting here with you."

"Is something wrong? Do you want to talk about it?" Salvatore was genuinely concerned.

"You don't want to hear about my troubles," she said softly.

"Of course I do. It might help."

Becky took a deep breath and looked away. "I'm not sure if I really want to marry Jorge."

Salvatore was surprised. He wasn't expecting anything like this. "Umm, yeah. Well, that's pretty big." Salvatore searched his brain for something wise to say. "Do you love him?"

"I don't know. Jorge is sweet. He's been around for a long time and I'm pretty sure he loves me, but... I just don't know if I'm ready to be married."

"So don't get married. There's no rule saying you must get married."

Becky let out a small snort. "No rules, easy for you to say. I'm twenty three. All my friends are married. Most of them have children already. I'm a spinster in the community."

"Who cares what anyone thinks? Do what you really want to. What do you really want to do?" Salvatore wondered what he was doing. He had no right to give Becky advice, nonetheless he felt compelled to help her.

"I'm not sure what I want. Part of me wants to run this place, but Karim's already got that job. Another part wants to go to Alpha." She looked at him with a funny expression on her face. "Another part just wants to have some fun, be young and enjoy life."

"You're a woman of many parts." Salvatore joked.

Becky giggled, "You know I was very attracted to your father." She had brought her hand back to his neck and began running her fingers along the skin that was still exposed. "You remind me of him. Does that bother you?"

"No." Salvatore could feel his heart pounding. Before he could consider the rest of what she said, she continued.

"Sue Ellen said you kissed her at the wake."

"Yes, well no. I mean she kissed me. She told you that?" Salvatore was practically stammering.

"We have no secrets." She seemed to be engrossed in watching her fingers as they traced along the edge of the scarf. She looked up, her hazel eyes boring into his. "Did you like it, when she kissed you?"

"Of course, it was nice." Salvatore felt a bit uncomfortable talking about kissing Sue Ellen with Becky.

Becky brought her lips close to Salvatore and kissed him. She let her lips linger on his before pulling away slightly. "And that, did you like that?"

Salvatore was breathless. This meeting was taking an unexpected turn. Becky was so close now. He could sense her body close by. Again he found himself wondering what lay under her coat. He found his voice. "I definitely liked that."

"It's really cold here. Why don't we go inside the beach shack and warm up a bit?" Becky indicated the ugly cement hut left over from Dover's early days, now used for lakeside storage.

Salvatore's heart was beating fast. He knew Becky was offering more than warm hands, but he wasn't sure what to expect. Still, how could he let an opportunity like this pass without seeing what was there? His father always told him you have to try new experiences, right? And Maya, she wanted him to make friends, didn't she? Still Becky was engaged. Salvatore was confused. He looked at Becky and his desire and curiosity returned. She was unhappy with Jorge. She'd probably end the engagement, he reasoned. There was no good reason not to go with her. "Sounds like a great idea."

Becky smiled. They stood up and took a moment to kiss one more time on the pier. It struck Salvatore that he had come here to make a connection with his father and instead had found Becky. It seemed like a good omen.