A lake in the woods have never sounded less appealing than when my boss brought up the company retreat. I crossed my fingers under the conference table he hadn’t booked any rooms at the Lake of the Weary. Lake of the Weary is where I spent most of my childhood, but after my father was killed, my visits to the lake slowly decreased.
My mother could never summon the energy to pack us all up into the car and my brothers and I could never remember the real name of the lake so we hated to ask and bring up memories of our father. Our father had renamed Lake of the Weary the first time we went because we all spent so much time napping in the sun.
“We’ll have to call this Lake of the Weary! You three have never slept so much in your entire lives!”
I think he planned as many weekends at the Lake of the Weary after that initial weekend so we could get away from the hustle and grind of every day life. A way we could get out of town and reset. I was twelve the last time we went to Lake of the Weary and two weeks later, the car accident too his life and everything changed.
I didn’t have to listen to my boss to know we were going back to the place of my biggest regret. My biggest heartache. The place where I made the biggest mistake of my life.